Ruin

55

Um...

The kiss...

Shit!

I had to restrain myself from laughing out loud.

I honestly forgot about that for a while.

Yuh better remember.

You know your luck and how things have a habit of popping up.

Remember how you'd thought you had hidden the hickeys from Odaine that day?

And look how that turned out.

Lucas would a must fuck yuh up if him find out 'bout this.

Facts!

This is exactly the reason why I don't intend on telling him about it.

If he can react like that in a dream, if he were to find out, imagine how he would in person!

I'd never heard Lucas sound so deadly, and I know it was just a dream, but damn. He sounded lethal as fuck.

Because he's dangerous.

He gave you that vibe from the day you met.

He's dangerous, yes.

I can admit that.

But, would he kill someone though?

That's the bigger question.

One that I need answer to. I think about it for a while longer.

Would he?

Although I don't put it pass him, I can't say for certain. Lucas seems layered. And most of those layers I haven't yet peeled back.

The man layered like a fucking onion and it feels like I've only barely managed to peel back the top layers.

My mind continues to race as I think about all of this. Then the fact that I'm trying to piece things together with what has been happening in my life recently, especially over this past weekend, makes it ten times worse.

There's so much happening, yet it feels like there's so much left to uncover.

Honestly, I feel so confused sometimes. Mostly because it feels like I'm clueless as to what's really going on around me.

And I hate the fact that Lucas isn't making me any more wiser.

That's if he even knows...

This feels like the whole Odaine - Mrs. H. scenario all over again.

I sigh again and adjust the seat belt which feels like it's about to strangle me.

"I'm OK," Lucas finally says, drawing me out of my thoughts. "Just tired."

At his words, I look over at him once more. The death grip he had on the steering wheel loosens a bit, but the tension is still evident in his shoulders, and his jaws which tick repeatedly; suggesting he's grinding his teeth.

He seems more than tired. He seems angry.

But about what?

As far as I know, we left Montego Bay on good terms.

My mouth itches to ask him what's really wrong, I can tell something else is bothering him, but I won't push it.

Not when he's like this.

"Oh," is all I say.

Before we fall into a period of comfortable silence for the second time since I woke up.