Page 75 of No More Secrets

“Why would a bounty hunter be after you? What did you do?” There is something hard and untamed about Lucas, but she can’t imagine him murdering someone. At least not intentionally or unless they deserved it. She thinks of what he did to Bob and Barton.

Lucas drags his hands down his face. They drop into his lap. His lips purse, and it looks like he’s biting the inside of his mouth before his mouth pops open. He exhales heavily. “I’ve done a lot of things.”

Her eyes grow large. “Like what?” she asks, intrigued. If she was smarter, she’d be scared, but if he was going to hurt her, he would have done so already. He’s had plenty of opportunities.

He shakes his head.

“Come on, tell me.” When he doesn’t, she pouts. “Then tell me why you thought Sophie was after you.”

“That’s the one thing we’re not talking about.”

“Well...” She chews her lip, thinking. If she can get him talking, she won’t have to talk about herself. Her life is too depressing, and she finds his much more interesting. He’s a mystery to her. And if she’s going to live at his place, that is, if she’s still welcome, she wants to know more about him. “Sophie’s a bounty hunter. If you thought she was after you, that means you have a warrant. But since she isn’t, you don’t?”

“Not for what I thought.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” The lines between his brows deepen. “Guess things didn’t happen as I remember them.”

“Meaning?”

He slowly shakes his head. His elbow on the table, he turns toward the window again, his fingers absently tapping his mouth. Her gaze snags on the rigid scar under his tattoo. She loves the intricate vine. One day she’ll get her own tattoo. But it’s the scar that compels her to ask, “What happened?” His eyes swing to her, and she juts her chin at the scar. “Your arm? Why’d you do it?”

He lowers his arm to the table and rubs a hand over the tattoo. “I was in a bad spot.”

Like her friend Jace. He didn’t see any escape from his mom’s abuse until he decided he wouldn’t let what she said define him. That he was better than how she saw him. Every day is still a battle, but so far he’s managed to overcome his struggles. She owes him a phone call. Shetold him she’d reach out when she made it to Hollywood. He must be worried.

She picks up another fry only to stop when it’s halfway to her mouth, registering that Lucas is talking.

“I was arrested when I was sixteen while trying to buy beer. My friend brought a gun. I didn’t know he had it, but when he pulled it out, I grabbed it from him, thinking he was going to shoot someone, and it went off. I almost killed the guy working there.”

The fry hovers near her mouth. “Holy shit.”

“Long story short, I spent six months in juvie. Something...” He takes a beat. “Something happened while I was there. I was...” He swallows roughly, agitatedly rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. “I was assaulted.”

Shiloh slowly puts down the fry and sits up straighter.

“When I got home, my headspace was shit. I tried to kill myself.”

“Did it hurt?”

He gives her a blank stare, then a bark of emotionless laughter. “Yeah, it hurt. Like hell.”

Her heartbeat slows. There’s an ache in her throat. “Then what happened?”

He sighs, weary, and Shiloh notices the exhaustion pulling at his face. “My mom found me and slowed the bleeding. Then the ambulance took me to the hospital.”

He stops talking, and Shiloh is quiet for a stretch, processing what he went through. She has an idea of what his recovery must have been like, having witnessed Jace’s. “I’m sorry for what happened.” All of it. The arrest, the attack, the suicide attempt.

“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yours either.”

His mouth flattens, and the tension in his face bleeds out. “I’m starting to realize that.” He holds her gaze for a few beats; then the corner of his mouth curves up.

Shiloh smiles back. Then she picks up her burger and crams it into her mouth, taking the biggest bite ever. Lucas watches her with a bemused smile, shaking his head. “What?” she asks, mouth full.

“Nothing. You remind me of someone.”

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