Page 66 of Veiled in Brick

Luke glanced at me hesitantly. “About what? I mean, he’s, er—worried.”

“Worried?”

“About this whole…situation.”

“He knows?” I returned disbelievingly.

“Yeah, he knows,” Luke scoffed. “I told him—kind of a big deal, no?”

“I mean he knows and didn’t say anything to me,” I murmured, the guilt that had burrowed its way into my chest twisting into something far beyond annoyance, but just shy of pissed. “Like you said, kind of a big deal, no? He didn’t even fucking text me. I know we’re not on the best terms, but is he that much of a bitter old man?”

“Oh.” Luke paused. “No-no, that was me. He was actually gonna call you, but I—” He caught the side-eye that I gave him and faltered in his words, “um—told him not to.”

My anger, if I could call it that, faded away. “Why?”

“You have a lot going on—James and Liam, throw in a stalker that you don’t know—was trying to save you the emotional distress.” He glanced at me thoughtfully. “I know you’re not fond of it, anyway.”

“Oh.” In hindsight, I supposed that James contacting me would have been a bit of a roller coaster on top of everything else. I began to speak a version of a thank you, but Luke continued on with:

“Plus, Jay has a lot going on too.”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Does he?”

“His story to tell; not mine.”

I huffed out a breath. “Yeah, okay. So, what does he know about…” I waved a hand at myself. “All this?”

“Everything?”

“Everything?”

“Not gonna hold back details, Zoey,” he admonished me. “Made Jay feel better to be more in the know.”

I quickly grumbled, “Yeah, yeah, fine.”

“Any more ideas on who this guy is?” Luke questioned.

“According to Brenda,” I started monotonously, “he’s tall, our age, white, thin build, dark hair and eyes, a crooked nose, and zero other defining features.”

“A run-of-the-mill twenty-something-year-old white dude,” Luke muttered.

“Uh huh, not exactly revolutionary information.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure more out soon—”

I held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I know. Don’t want to talk about it.” Luke nodded, the silence became all too much, and I felt the need to ask again, “So…is this awkward?”

Thankfully, Luke laughed, glancing at me with reassuring eyes. “It’s not awkward, Zoey.” Though I could tell that he was sincere, I itched for conversation—anything to steer the subject away from where it could potentially veer and keep my mind from focusing on the eerie sound of our walking against the cobblestones. Thankfully, it was only a few more loud footsteps when Luke spoke again. “So…you got slapped. What’s the deal with that?”

I laughed gently. “Oof.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I’m surprised I didn’t get a shiner.”

“Jeez.”

He had murmured more to himself than to me, and though I could tell he was curious, he didn’t press the matter any further. I was grateful for the lack of insistence and for whatever reason that, along with the promise of entertaining banter, cleared my mind of any remaining unpleasant thoughts. I launched into a retelling of the slap heard ’round the world in vivid detail and Luke listened intently with widening eyes, well-placed laughter, and four-letter-worded replies until we were walking up the stairs to the complex. I ended the tale before it reached any detail of Liam’s lips on mine or the thought of such, and began to fish through my purse for the key to Liam’s apartment. I found it, unlocked the door, and allowed us both inside.

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