Handcuffed

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

He broke a few hours after we got home.  Leading up to that, I could tell it was coming.  I was quiet around him, just waiting.  It didn't make me feel any better when I looked at him; he was too calm and it was only a matter of time.  I was cautious and did what I could not to set him off.  I even cooked dinner for us.  I wasn't sure if the fact that Clare was still not home helped him.  She might have set him off or could maybe help him cool down if she was here.  Looking into his glazed-over eyes, I wasn't even sure if he cared.  He was too lost in his thoughts. 

"Luke?" I asked gently after I shut the stove off and turned to him, where he was sitting at the table.  He glanced up to me with a blank expression, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.  He looked fine, controlled.  But I knew not to believe it.  The energy was there as was the reason for it.  It was only a matter of time.  "Um, dinner is ready."

He nodded and stood up without saying anything.  He wouldn't look to me often; maybe because he didn't need the evidence of my harassment reminding him of what happened to me.  Maybe because he didn't know how to interact with me properly right now.  Maybe just because he was lost in his thoughts.  Hell, maybe all of those things did it. 

Getting his plate, he made his taco as I did the same.  The silence that existed between us was very unsettling once we sat down at the table and started eating.  For me it was anyway; who the hell knew what he was thinking or if he noticed.  I didn't want to push him at all; I didn't want him to break even though I knew it would happen at some point.  I wanted the opposite, to distract him or make him feel better.  I wasn't sure but talking with him could result in either.  My intentions were to distract though.

"I wonder where Clare is.  She should be home by now."  I internally kicked myself.  I should know that bringing her up wouldn't help.  In general, anything to do with her wouldn't help. 

He kept his eyes down, away from mine and on the table.  I saw him pause though and purse his lips.  He didn't say anything though and went on eating. While we did so, I tried thinking of something else to say.  Sighing, I decided to ask him a general question by the time we were nearly done eating.  I didn't realize how stupid I was for not thinking it through before I asked. It was so stupid, it was Clare-worthy. 

"How was your day today?"

He looked up at that, meeting my eyes and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up.  His gaze not breaking, I stuttered to clarify what I meant.  "I-I meant how was work today?" I said quickly after, this time looking away from him.  But it didn't matter.  He only heard my first question and it set him off

"How was my day?" He asked and I watched as a menacing smile spread across his face.  "How was my day?  Compared to your's, it was pretty fucking good!"

"Luke," I groaned.  "You kn--"

"Compared to yours, it was fantastic!  Of course, that was until I pick you up from school and see you were fucking abused beyond what I believed could happen to you in such a short amount of time.  I am so fucking pissed!  Pissed at the school, at myself for letting you go, and pissed at you for not being as worked up about it as I am!" He was yelling by now and I could only sit there, taking in his words.  Taking a deep breath, he stood up and took his empty plate towards the sink as he continued.  Looking at him, I saw he started to shake slightly again.  "What the fuck is wrong with people?!  Hell, what the fuck is wrong with me!  I let you walk into that hell!  I did this to you.  And why?  Because I want to give you a good future.  I want you to be free.  I want you to have a life but I guess that's just to much to fucking ask for!"  He was getting louder, his eyes becoming more lost in his fury.  He turned away from me, towards the sink, and he kicked in the bottom cupboard in a swift movement, making me slightly jump.  Starting at him from where I was sitting, I watched as he shook harder and smashed whatever he could in his reach - cups, plates, a vase, the radio on the counter.  He threw it all to the floor and smashed it, the noise making me shudder with how much louder it was getting.  When I saw him pick up a chair and throw it against the wall, I stood up and started to leave the kitchen, heading up towards the stairs.  I didn't judge him, I understood.  He just needed his space right now and to let his anger out.