Conflicted

by Missy Johnson

  “Why psychology?”

  I turn to him. “What?”

  “Why did you choose psychology?” he asks patiently.

  “Because I want to understand why people do what they do,” I say, after thinking about it.

  “You wanted an explanation for what happened to your cousin.”

  I shrug. “I guess.”

  “You’re never going to find it, Lacey. You’re searching for answers that just aren’t there. The human mind is too complex to figure out.”

  I nod. I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to know why. Is it so wrong that I want answers?

  I turn to him. “Is it worth it?” I ask. I’m annoyed at his ability to make me feel like I’m holding back, when he’s doing the exact same thing.

  “What?” he replies, his brow furrowed.

  “Whatever keeps you from reconnecting with your son. I want to know if it’s worth it,” I repeat.

  He sighs and stares at the ground below him, sweeping the dirt aside with the point of his shoe.

  “The only thing keeping me from trying is the fear of rejection,” he finally says. “I know that contradicts everything I’ve just said to you, but I’m trying to make you learn from me. I’ve made mistakes in my life that are unforgivable and I have to live with that. I’ve learned from them and moved on.”

  “But have you really moved on?” I ask pointedly.

  He chuckles, giving me a sideways glance.

  “I didn’t think so.” I try a different tactic. “If you reach out to him, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “At this stage what I stand to lose is significant.” He gets to his feet before I can continue to question him. “I should get back to the office. I hope coming out here with me helped you. Even if only a little.”

  “It did,” I say, standing up.

  I walk behind, watching him thoughtfully. Was he really as bad a father as he thinks he was, or is that his guilt talking? I couldn’t imagine losing a child, especially at the hands of someone you love—someone who is supposed to protect that child at all costs. He’s like a complex puzzle that I can’t quite make fit back together. I want to keep pushing, but just like with Lucas, I’m afraid of pushing him too far.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucas

  “So, have you told her yet?”

  My sleep is interrupted as Eva flicks on the light and bounds onto the bed. She’s way too happy for what has to be too early in the morning for conversation. I bury my head under my pillow and mumble something incoherent. Eva clicks her tongue and grabs hold of the pillow, ripping it from me.

  “Hi to you too,” I mumble, sitting up. I yawn and run my hand through my hair. “Harry let you in?”

  “I’m assuming that Harry is your roommate?”

  I nod and she rolls her eyes.

  “Then I guess he let me in. He’s passed out by your front door. His leg was wedging the door open.”

  I sigh. It’s a wonder we haven’t been burgled.

  “Are you going to answer me?”

  “No, I haven’t told her, and I don’t plan on it either.”

  Eva shrugs. “Then get used to her and Aaron.” Her eyes widen. “Maybe she’ll be your new stepmother. That’d be fun, right?”

  “Why are you here, Eva?” I groan. I roll over and bury myself under the covers.

  She rips them off me too and throws them on the ground. “Because you offered me a place to stay, remember?”

  I grunt a response. Vague memories of a conversation had two nights ago come back to me. Her house-sitting gig was up and she needed somewhere to crash. I just wasn’t expecting her to arrive at some obscenely early hour of the morning.

  “And also to make sure you’re not moping over some girl because you don’t have the balls to do anything about it.” She stands at my bed, her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “I’m not here for much longer. I want to make sure you’re okay before I leave.”

  “Fine, but why do you give a shit?” I grumble. I stand up and grab a pair of jeans crumpled on the floor. “I’m just some dude you met in a bar.”

  “No, you’re just some poor, lost puppy I’ve adopted and decided to put my time and effort into helping,” she says sweetly, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I laugh and wrangle free.

  “I pick up damaged soul everywhere I visit.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  She follows me into the kitchen. “You cook?” she asks, her voice dubious.

  I laugh and nod. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was old enough to reach the stove. It was either that or starve.

  “Okay, sure. What’s your specialty?”

  I open the fridge. “Eggs and bacon?”

  “Sounds yum,” she says, planting herself on a stool at the counter.

  I cook enough for the two of us and Harry, just in case he decides to join the land of the living. Eva watches me with interest.

  “So, where to from here?” I ask her.

  “From Australia?” she asks. She shrugs and looks thoughtful. “America, I think. I’ve been everywhere else but there.”

  “When was the last time you were home?” I ask. “Do you miss your family?”

  She laughs, her eyes sparkling. “You ask a lot of questions, Lucas. I love my family, but I can’t handle being in one place for very long. I get anxious. I’m at my best when I’m out there, seeing the world.” She sighs dreamily. “Life is too short to waste.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” I ask, flipping the bacon. “In the one place, I mean?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe. I want a family of my own someday. I’m just not sure how they fit into everything yet.” Her eyes fixate on mine. “What about you? Do you have a five-year plan, Lucas?” she teases.

  I chuckle. “I’m happy if I can plan till the next week.”

  “Ah, that must frustrate those around you.” Eva grins. “Do you have a good relationship with your family?”

  “That’s complicated,” I say, hesitating. For some reason I feel like I can talk to Eva, but there’s shit I don’t tell anyone. Not even Lacey.

  “Complicated can be good,” Eva says.

  “Not this kind of complicated.” I grin, even though I’m not in the least bit amused. I let out a sigh and carry our food over to the table. Eva brings over the two juices I’ve just poured, and our cutlery. We sit down and help ourselves.

  “You don’t like talking about yourself,” she observes. “Tell me something. Something nobody else knows.”

  I snort. Where do I even start?

  “I’m pretty sure my father is fucking my best friend.”

  Eva whistles, her eyes widening. Holy shit. Where the fuck did that confession come from? That is the most honest thing I’ve said in years. I drop my fork and rub my forehead.

  “Oh wait—I forgot to add that I’m in love with her.”

  Wow. Admitting that aloud feels weird and confronting. It’s so less threatening in my head. Shit, my life sucks.

  “Wait, your father? Your father is sleeping with the girl you’re pining over? The one at the restaurant the other night? Lucas, you didn’t tell me the other man was your father.”

  “Does it make a difference?” I laugh bitterly.

  “Of course it does,” she exclaims. “That’s all the more reason to tell her how you feel.”

  I don’t answer, choosing to stare at my hands instead. It’s not that easy. If I tell her, then she’ll have questions. Even if we managed to get past all that, I’m still too chickenshit to actually take a chance and be with her. That hasn’t changed.

  Eva sighs and throws her hands up, muttering something in Swedish. She stands up and carries her plate over to the sink. Leaning against the counter, she turns to me, her crystal blue eyes serious.

  “If you only take one thing from me, take this,” she says. “You’ll regret not telling her. You might have your reasons, but eventually you’ll regret it. Trust me.�
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  “Spoken with experience,” I say and she just shrugs.

  She walks over to the couch and picks up her handbag, throwing it over her shoulder. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to go. Let me know when you’re ready to be a man.”

  As I watch her leave, I don’t even know what to say. Why is she so passionate about my fucking life? She’s as bad as Ariel. What is it with chicks wanting to interfere? They just can’t help themselves.

  I toss my own plate into the sink and wander into my room. Walking over to my wardrobe, I think about the last time I saw Laurie. She was standing in my doorway, clutching that stupid bunny she insisted on carrying everywhere, begging me to let her hang around with me for the day. Normally I’d have let her, but I was angry at the beating I’d just received at the hands of my stepfather—all thanks to Laurie. She’d told him about me being late to pick her up from school, even though I’d begged her not to tell. I reach behind my back and under my shirt, wincing as I run my fingers over my scars.

  Feels like it was yesterday.

  I slide open the wardrobe door and reach up above the top shelf. Right at the back I have a small cardboard box stashed. I bring it down and sit on the bed, the box in front of me. One by one I go through the photos, the only memories I have of that part of my life. Most of it I’d be happy to forget—the constant abuse at the hands of not only my stepdad, but often my own mother—but hidden among those were the odd good memory.

  Mum was sick. I knew that, but it didn’t make my childhood—or lack of it—easier to swallow. If anything it made it harder, because as much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn’t. How confusing is that for a fucking kid? I learned very young that it’s the people closest to you that will hurt you the most.

  I pick up a photo of Laurie and smile fondly, running my fingers over the faded gloss. This was taken the day after her sixth birthday, which was when she got that stupid bunny. She took him everywhere. I asked her why once and she told me he would protect her when I couldn’t. But he didn’t save her that day.

  I had the chance to and I didn’t.

  Shoving the photos back into the box, I feel anger surge through me. She’d still be here if it wasn’t for him. And for that I’ll never forgive him. Just like I’ll never forgive myself.

  Standing up, I storm back into the living room where I grab my keys. I’m done. I’m sick of trying to work out why the hell he’s back. I have nothing left to lose because he’s taken the only thing I have left to care about. Fuck the consequences, I need answers and I’m going to get them.

  One way or another, this ends tonight.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lacey

  Ariel: Call me? I’m really worried about Lucas.

  I read the message from Ariel, a twinge of guilt rippling through me. She’s being more of a friend to him these days than I have. The truth is, I’ve been avoiding him because it’s easier than dealing with my feelings for him.

  “Lacey, are you free tonight?”

  I turn around and smile. Aaron leans against his desk, his dark eyes studying me. It’s Friday night, and like most Fridays, I don’t have anything planned.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Great. One of my friends is in town. We’re meeting for dinner and I thought you might benefit from meeting her.”

  Her? Why does that single word crush me?

  “Sounds great,” I say in an overenthusiastic tone to hide my disappointment.

  I don’t see him much for the rest of the day, so I busy myself by pretending to study the case when really I’m searching Google for any female connection to Aaron who might be the mystery woman joining us for dinner. I slam my laptop shut and lean back against my chair. I’m crazy. I have literally gone insane.

  Aaron picks me up right on seven like he promised. He wears the same suit he was wearing at work, which makes me think he came straight from there. Not that it matters. He looks incredible anyway.

  I slide into his car, aware that he’s giving me the once-over. A shiver races down my spine. I hope he appreciates that I raided Ari’s closet, stealing her favourite navy blue silk dress, the front cut so low I’m afraid I’m going to fall out.

  “You look stunning,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing through me. Then he laughs, shifting the car into gear. “Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.”

  “I’m not complaining,” I say, biting my lip. Inside I’m bursting, loving that I’m having an effect on him.

  For a moment I almost forget about his friend—that is until we walk into the restaurant and I see her sitting at the table, waiting for us. She stands up, her smile infectious as she waves us over. Her long blond hair is piled stylishly on top of her head, the loose curl escaping, cascading down her neck.

  “Hey you,” Aaron murmurs. His eyes shine as he leans in to kiss her.

  She laughs and throws her arms around him. I stand there awkwardly, not sure how to respond. Eventually Aaron remembers I’m there.

  “Lacey, this is Lucy. She’s a friend of mine, and a psychiatrist who does consulting for me sometimes. She’ll be doing the assessment on Duane.”

  “Hi Lacey, it’s a pleasure to finally meet the girl I’ve been hearing so much about.” Lucy takes my hand and squeezes it warmly. She’s so friendly that I can’t help but grin back.

  During dinner we talk about the case—or more they talk and I listen. I watch them interact with interest. Aaron is the most relaxed I’ve seen him, and the way she keeps reaching over to touch his arm and laughing at everything he says makes me wonder if there was something between them. Or still is. I tense, surprised at how jealous I feel when really I have no right.

  It’s a just a stupid crush.

  After dinner, I wait next to Aaron’s car for him to drive me home. My arms crossed over my chest, I wait for them to say goodbye, tensing at the sound of their laughter. Finally, Lucy waves and walks towards her car. I try and hide how bad a mood I’m in as Aaron unlocks my door, opening it for me.

  “I hope you found that useful,” he says, locking his seatbelt into place. “Luce is a great person to have on your side. I think she’d be great for you to consider working with in the future. She’s going to set you up with a meeting with the director of the facility she consults at.”

  I resist the urge to laugh. Useful? I spent the whole night staring daggers at his girlfriend. I barely heard a word she said. I hate this feeling of jealousy, especially when I have no claim on him.

  “You seem to get along well with her,” I say, clicking my jaw.

  “She’s a good friend.”

  “Just a friend?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

  “Just a friend,” he confirms. He narrows his eyes at me, the tiniest of smirks appearing on his mouth. “You okay over there?” he asks.

  “I’m fine,” I grumble. “You two just seem awfully close.”

  “Uh huh,” he says, amused at my tone. “Good friends usually are. You don’t have any good friends of the opposite sex? You don’t think it’s possible?”

  “Friendships with the opposite sex are rarely that straightforward,” I mutter. I lean forward and flick on the radio, hoping that signals the end of the conversation. It does, and we drive the rest of the way in silence.

  Halfway to my place, he pulls to a stop outside an apartment building. I glance over at him, confused. Did he forget I’m still in the car?

  “Sorry, I just have to send a file off,” he murmurs. “Do you want to come up and wait? I’ll just be a second.”

  “Sure,” I say, curious to see where he lives. I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of the car. The walk up to his apartment I spend psyching myself out. Why did he stop at home? Surely the file isn’t that urgent that he couldn’t wait an extra half hour?

  As we step out of the elevator, I’m so nervous. Everything about Aaron makes me jittery, especially when I have no idea what his intentions are. I follow him inside, ignoring the curious gaze of his doorman. We walk over to the
elevator and wait. My hands in front of me, I play with my fingers while he is distracted on his phone. I swallow past the giant lump in my throat, trying to force myself to calm down. At this rate I’ll pass out in his apartment. I cringe at the thought. I’d die if that happened.

  We exit on the top floor, where there is only one apartment. Of course he’d have the penthouse. He earns enough to own this whole building. He unlocks the door and flicks on a light.

  “The living room is through there—make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Wine?”

  “A wine would be nice,” I croak, my voice sounding foreign to me. Hell, I don’t even drink wine. If he notices how weird I’m acting, he doesn’t say. He disappears, and comes back a few minutes later carrying my wine and a scotch for himself.

  “I’ll put the television on for you,” he says, pressing a remote. “I’ll just be a sec.”

  I wait a few seconds and then walk over to the window. His view is incredible. In the distance I can see the harbor and the bridge, surrounded by lights. I glance around his apartment, taking in his tastes. Everything is perfectly in place and expensive-looking. I walk over to the sofa and run my finger over the soft leather . My hands are shaking. I take a deep breath and a big sip of my wine. Relax, Lace.

  “Sorry about that.”

  I jump and turn around, not expecting him back that quickly. He smiles and nods at the window.

  “Pretty impressive, huh?”

  “I don’t know why you leave your place with a view like this,” I joke.

  He laughs and steps closer to me. My skin prickles as I try not to think about how nervous I am, or how hard my knees are shaking right now. He stares at me, one eyebrow lifted, as if he’s waiting for me to say something. Panic sets in and I say the first thing that enters my head.

  “I should be getting home,” I murmur, wetting my lips.

  The room spins and I have to force myself to breathe. He leans in further, so our lips are almost touching, his dark eyes playing with me. I nearly melt into his arms as his fingers touch my back.