Chapter 6 - Tangled Bonds

The rain was beating the fogged windows of the diner like a nervous heartbeat, a low-key rhythmic to the neon beat of the city which still vibrated in the veins of Mia after the commotion of the dive bar. It was ten days after the night of the first fateful night, September 11, 2025, and the odor of coffee and grease was warm and heavy in the air of the place, a sharp contrast to the musky odor of whiskey and sweat in the bar. Mia was sitting opposite Lucas on a battered bench, the red vinyl squeaking as she moved, her crimson dress giving way to plain black sweater and jeans that seemed to be shielding her weakness after the nakedness of the night before. The gown wrapped around her figure, the neck of the sweater low enough to show the shape of her collarbone, which she had not been aware of until Lucas stared at that part, and his hazel eyes darkened with something she could not identify. Her heartbeat increased, the rhythm of a traitor, the phantom fire that Jace Wilder had stirred in her, his obsidian stare a phantom burn that never healed even in the dull security of the diner. The fluorescent lamps glowed on the face of Lucas, and the little stubble along his jaw and the tension that narrowed his lips. He agitated his coffee, the spoon clanging on the ceramic, and Mia observed how his fingers moved, with their strength, with their slow, purposeful movements, the same hands that had held her firm in the bar, the touch of which now was a thing that gave her chills. Since last night, you have been aloof, he said, and it was a low tone, with a roughness that cut through the hum of conversation and the clatter of crockery in the diner. His gaze looked into her and was seeking and she could feel the solidity of his care, a rope that pulled her back out of the abyss Jace could be. She smiled involuntarily, and her fingers played along the edge of her unmused mug, the hotness sinking into her flesh, but producing little effect in unfreezing the knot of cold in her stomach. I am just tired, she told, and the words were hollow and her mind was wandering to the velvet growl of Jace, You know where, a promise that was making her dreams. I wish to say something to you, he said, and his voice changed to something less strong, nearly weak. He hesitated, looking out of the window where the rain was beating the glass, and the neon veins of the city were lost in a rainbow of color. My dad left me when I was a child. Left my mom and bills and a broken heart. I was taught to be the stayer, the protector. His voice was harsh, and raw, and Mia felt her chest clench and she could see the boy that he had been, small, scared, determined, in his eyes. His hand stretched across the table and his fingers touched hers and the touch caused a spark in her, a warmth that was in contrast to the cold memory of the touch of Jace. She did not withdraw, and his thumb was tracing the line of her knuckles, the gesture itself simple, a silent invitation to protection which she was not sure she deserved, and the door of the diner opened, and a blast of cold air came in, and Mia caught herself wishing that Jace would walk through the door and his leather jacket would shine with the rain and his smirk would be one of defiance. However it was only a delivery boy and she sighed and her shoulders were lowered and the tension was released. His hand hovered and her touch was a lifeline and she thought maybe Lucas sensed the war within her, the tug of his warmth in the darkness that Jace represented. That is why I came in that first night, I said, and I got my voice straight. "I couldn't let him hurt you. But it's more than that now." The words were suspended between them, laden with the unsaid, and the breath of Mia came in and her mind was churning to figure out the change. Was it still the trick, or was he entering into the real? Her body was reacting before her mind could follow, a glow rising up her neck, her thighs drawn together as a little ache ached low in her belly. She took a bite of her coffee, the bitterness making her forget the heat in her, and endeavored to listen to his narrative. Always, you have been there, she said lowly, and her voice shook with the burden of her thankfulness--and of her shame. The recollection of Jace and how he had made her bare in the bar, how he had made her feel naked, did not match up with Lucas and she despised herself because of the way her mind had failed her, because her body still responded to a man that threatened everything she treasured. Lucas clenched his fingers on hers, a possessive addition to the gesture, and she was aware of the strength in his grip, of the security that it gave, and her heart stuttered. I will always be, he thought, and the diner come back, the rain was a distant roar, and in its place the intensity of his gaze, a heat that echoed the forbidden flush that Jace had awakened in Mia. The waitress came in, rattling with her tray, placing their food greasy fries and a burger in the case of Lucas, a salad in the case of Mia, and the spell was broken. Mia withdrew the hand, her fingers aching in the place he had touched them, and kept herself busy with her fork, piercing a piece of lettuce leaf as though it would hold her in place. but her thoughts would not rest, and she was thinking of the bar, to how Jace had thrown his voice round her, a velvet snare she could not get out of. She was asking herself whether he was standing out there, watching, waiting till she fell, and his presence a shadow that grew bigger with every hour. Lucas took a bite of his burger, the mute sound of it was very grounding, and she had to eat, the crispness of the greens no comparison to the storm that was raging within her. Mia shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of ash. Well, but the gossip... it is all over. The idea of the office, of the investigative questions of Emma, knotted her stomach tighter, the pretence of dating, a thin thread that might break when pulled. Lucas wiped his mouth with a napkin, and did it with a deliberation. "Let them talk. So long as we are both on the same page, it does not matter. They were words of comfort, but there was something in them that held her. Were they on the same page? The deception had been a defense against Jace, but the caresses of Lucas, his admissions, made the line indistinct, and she did not know where she was, between the security he could give her and the peril that beckoned her name. She was thinking of Jace once again, of how his leather-clad body had moved about the bar, a predator in his natural habitat, and she was wondering whether he would find her this evening, whether his whisper would turn to a roar. His hand again touched hers and his thumb rubbed her knuckles in a pain that caught her breath and she looked at him and saw not only her friend but also the man who had revealed his soul, who had remained where others had gone. I do not want to lose you, he said, and his voice was like a low rumble that shook through her, and she felt the veracity of it, the intensity of his concern, a connection that bound her and him in a web that she could not break, and knew that this was a turning point. Lucas was her light but Jace was her darkness, a temptation that she could not resist. The rain was dripping, a monotonous beat, and she questioned when she would be unsteady on this limb, when she would be sucked down by the snarl of friendship, pretence, and forbidden lust.