AN: Okay, I swear I haven't forgotten about this or either of my other two stories. I promise. My life has just taken a turn that I wasn't expecting and my time on the computer has drastically lessened. I am, however, plugging faithfully away at updates and hope to not go more than two weeks between updates. Just no guarantees on which story'll get it when :D
I want to take a couple lines though and say…WOW and THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed this story. I have gotten the highest count of reviews of all time with this story and the last two chapters. I was floored and truly touched that they were received so warmly.
To: azmar, brucas224, IamCaroline, tigger167, sarah, 23KT23, BRUCAS 2007, whiters, brookenlucas4eva03, onetreehillgirl066, BDavis427, missdenmark, Salma, Brucas2006, bella, broodyprettygirl, flipflopgal, Kelly-Starfly, Simoman, queen08, BRUCAS123, beepersheartsbrucas, and SV, thank you so much for taking the time to leave me a review for the last two chapters. It absolutely made my day, and made everything perfect for me.
Lynn (justlikebrooke), I'm glad I was able to restore your faith. I look forward to your reviews like none other for you always have such expressive things to say. Allie (othfan326) I'm loving your reviews and are so incredibly thrilled that you're following the story. I promise I haven't given up on Need.
Sorry folks for the long AN but it's been a long while since I posted an update and I don't think I did one on my last chapter, so I had some catching up to do. I struggled with this chapter which is why it took me so long to post (I honestly did have a majority of it written, just wasn't happy with it) so bear with me. I'd love it if y'all left me a little note telling me if I did alright. Either way, enjoy, and thanks for taking the time to read! XO, Z
-
Miles was drunk. Shit faced, falling down, slurring, plastered. And it wasn't even dark yet.
His bitch of a wife had the power to ruin him, to take everything that he'd worked so hard for and flush it down the toilet. As it stood his financial standings were severely depleted thanks to her conniving ways.
He stumbled into the next bar, not really caring where he was, or what time it was. He needed the oblivion only a good bar hopping could bring him. The fact that he'd flown to New York, it being the biggest city as far away from Brooke as possible that he could think up, indicated just how badly he was reeling from it all.
When he'd first seen the fiery brunette he'd been entranced. She was such a bright presence in his dull, boring life that he'd been hooked at first glance. He was drawn to her, desperate for anything to lift the black curtain that had fallen on his shoulders.
He cussed softly. He'd never meant to turn into the person he'd become, but her refusal to marry him made him desperate. He couldn't lose her, she was the only reason he'd survived. If only she knew of the times he'd brought the barrel of daddy's gun to his temple. If only she knew of the numerous cuts that lay hidden beneath the arm guard he didn't even take off to shower.
The loss of his baby, that shattered him. When she ran away, he'd been so scared. When his firecracker threw in his face the death of the only good thing he'd ever managed to do Miles was lost. Officially floating on the dark seas, waves cresting higher and higher as the storm over took him. He was floundering.
The arrival of the first set of divorce papers almost killed him. He had to physically drag himself out of bed after three days of no food or water, not really caring if he lived or died.
Somehow, without his knowledge, the desolation was transformed into the game he'd been playing for the last four years. He became a shell of the man he'd once been, lost all sight of the man he'd hoped to become, with Brooke by his side. He was twisted, a horrible monster that not even he wanted to admit existed. He did the only thing he knew how to do: he turned nasty. A slow progression that took him from the guy he was to the evil husband he is now. He hated it, but he couldn't stop it. Not any more. He didn't want to. Anything to bring the same kind of pain and heartache to Brooke that had been dumped on him for so many years.
"Bartender, wrack em up. And keep em coming," was the motto of the day. He slammed the first shot, taking fierce pleasure in the burn that traced its way down his throat. Oblivion was a very very good thing.
-
Brooke collapsed on her couch, thoroughly spent from the whirlwind she'd just experienced. Her emotions were everywhere. Just trying to think hurt. She sighed and rubbed her temples gently.
Her life was fast spiraling out of control, and the twenty-six year old had no idea how to stop it. Between the magazine upset at the last minute photo refusals, the design conflicts that had arisen in the last two days, Lucas pulling the stunts he'd pulled, Miles being in town – she frowned for a moment, at least she thought he was still in town – and her guilt over Chloe, all mixed in with the feelings she was battling over Lucas being back in her life in any capacity, Brooke was surprised she hadn't broken down and curled into a tight ball, rocking in her insanity.
A drink sounded really really good at that exact moment, but alcohol couldn't be her crutch. She had to find something else to calm her nerves.
An open window that she must have forgotten in her haste to leave allowed an ocean breeze to tease her hair, and she smiled. The sea. As always, her therapist, her tormentor, her forgiver.
Sliding out of her shoes, Brooke glided to the back door and stepped out onto the familiar deck, stretching in the warm sun as the waves crested and slammed against the shore. She stepped down into the sand, her toes reveling in the feel of the tiny grains underfoot, a mini massage with every step.
She approached the shore, standing just outside of the sea's long reach, listening to the sounds of the sea. A child's laughter floated on the updraft, a light tinkling sound that lifted her aching soul. A dog barking at a seagull resting on the edge of a rock, the squawking as it flew away and surveyed the land beneath its down swing.
These were the sounds she'd become accustomed to, that she'd grown up with over the past years. When Miles first left, she slipped into her suit and dove into the warm embrace of the sea, swimming out all her frustrations and anger. When she first had complications with her pregnancy, she'd stood as the water washed up against her tiny frame, begging and praying for the healthy birth of her child. In some ways, she felt akin to the sailors on the Dutchman…she'd bargained her soul to Davie Jones for the life of her baby.
Was this her penance now? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life married to a man she despised, as she watched the man she loved wallow in a life he didn't want? There had to be something she could do, a task to complete that would free her from these unearthly binds.
The ringing of a phone brought her thoughts crashing back to reality. A couple hundred yards down the beach a woman answered a cell phone, her laughter echoing as she enjoyed the conversation.
Brooke deserved to be that person, didn't she? She should get the chance to make things right, to feel the love she so desperately craved.
"What do I have to do? What's next in this live I've chosen? Will you help me?"
For a split second the exhausted woman thought she might actually get an answer. Ironic laughter ripped from her throat as it sunk into her head that she was holding her breath for a mythical legend to solve her problems for her. That was rich.
"I'm screwed," she muttered.
-
Lucas needed to get out. He'd just made quite possibly the biggest mistake of his life, chasing away the one woman he knew he could love unconditionally, all because he was…shit, he didn't even know what he was.
"You idiot," he grumbled, smacking himself in the head. Pushing open the door to a bar around the corner from his apartment, he walked up to the bar and sat down at his usual stool.
"Hey Adam," he greeted the bartender when he nodded in his direction.
"Hey man, what's up? You're in here early," came the casual reply.
"It's been one of those days dude. I need a beer, and badly," Lucas said, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion and defeat.
A few moments later the precious amber liquid appeared in front of his nose in a frosted mug and Lucas sighed appreciatively. He wrapped his strong fingers around the handle and brought the lip to his mouth, relishing in the almost acrid tang as the cold drink slid down his throat.
Yes, this was exactly what he needed.
Polishing off half the mug in one draught, he took a minute to survey the bar, see who else was in there. A couple in the corner near the back were obviously there for privacy and peace as they necked in the booth. A couple of guys battled it out over the eight ball against the fall wall, and a group of women giggled as they watched. He almost smiled.
The only one person sitting at the bar was a man, dark haired, looking like death warmed over. And Lucas thought he'd been having a bad day.
Lucas gestured to Adam, who finished putting up a couple glasses before joining him.
"What's up man?"
"Who's the guy? Do we need to worry?"
"Who, him? Naw. He's so plastered he couldn't find his ass with two hands and a map. I cut him off about an hour ago, he's waiting until he sobers up enough to get me to give him more beer. Not gonna happen," Adam shrugged.
Lucas eyed the poor guy warily. After he'd had to help Adam clear out the bar a couple years back when some particularly rough guys thought they'd lay stake to the property, he'd pretty much taken on the role of bouncer when he was there. Which more often than not was daily, seeing as how he did like to eat, and they fed him.
A grunt from the other end drew his attention once again to the man, and he could tell he was talking to himself as he saw his mouth moving.
"Stupid…fucking marriage…damn bitch…haven't won…screw you Brooke," was about all he could catch, but it was enough.
Brooke? No way. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that this guy could be talking about his Brooke. It just wasn't possible. For one, they were all the way across the country. For two, it was just too weird. Not even fate was that sadistic.
"Hey man, why don't you go on home," Adam said sympathetically. He really did feel for the guy. It sounded like whoever this Brooke was had really worked him over, done one hell of a number on him.
"I have no home! Not anymore! That bitch took it from me!" The bartender's words unintentionally sparked the fire that was banking inside Miles, and it roared to life. "All I wanted to do was love her! And she screwed me!"
Lucas was intrigued. Despite himself, he was drawn to the drunken sod. There was something…disgusting, about the man.
"I asked her to marry me a dozen times! She kept saying no! She left me no other option!"
Adam tried to calm the guy down, tried to get him to quit yelling and just take a breather.
"And then she fucking lost it! The one thing that could have brought us closer, and she got careless! You know what I think?" The drunk was swaying, his finger swirling in the air as he tried to shove it in Adam's face.
Not waiting for an answer, he barreled on with his tirade.
"She wanted to lose the baby. She hurt herself on purpose, she killed it," he sneered, spittle flying out of his mouth. Adam visibly stiffened, and Lucas gripped the counter top painfully. Whoever this guy was talking about, he obviously didn't know what he was saying.
"That bitch," he spat, "she killed our baby, and then tried to divorce me!" He laughed humorlessly, settling down somewhat now that he'd gotten the crux of his tangled web out in the open.
Lucas, for his part, sat stock still. There was just no way. But there was no way it wasn't, either. There were too many similarities, too many parts in the story where they matched up.
"Fucking Brooke Davis," the guy muttered darkly, his hands cradling the empty mug he'd refused to give up when Adam had denied him a refill.
Luke felt the anger consume him, eat him alive, burn up his insides until all that was left was a raging fire that left no room for rational thought or sane considerations. This just had to be Miles, the evil husband, who held so much, who hurt Brooke so much. His fingers curled into an iron clad fist, his hand going white with the pressure.
"You need to leave," he said coldly, not wanting to cause a scene but not wanting to remain in the same breathing space as the asshole.
Adam looked up at the tone the normally kind blonde used, and was slightly shocked to see him so obviously pissed off. When the scoff and grunt of dismissal originated from the guy he'd honestly been eyeballing as a candidate for a stint behind bars, he became concerned. That probably wasn't the smartest move he could have made.
"I've already told you that you're cut off. Don't make me call the cops man," Adam chimed in. Lucas was no light weight. He could throw a punch or two, make the guy's life miserable. For that matter, he himself could scrap. The guy seriously didn't want to stay and cross them. He considered the blonde a friend, and if push came to shove, he'd back up his buddy.
"You two prissys don't know what you're talking about. Just leave me the fuck alone," Miles hissed back, refusing to lift his eyes. "She's a bitch, I'm pissed, and I'm not opposed to taking my frustrations with her out on your sorry asses."
"Don't talk about her that way," Lucas commanded.
Adam looked at Lucas strangely…he knew the woman the jerk was whining about?!
"Or what?" Miles challenged.
"You really don't wanna find out," Lucas returned. His fists were starting to ache with the tension. His anger coiled inside him, begging to release in the form of his fist connecting with the dipshit's face.
Miles' mocking laughter was his response. "Whatever pretty boy."
Something in Lucas snapped and the anger coiled and ready to spring burst forward. Before he could even register the movement of his feet he felt the satisfying smack as he collided with Miles' face.
Miles staggered back, caught unawares by the punch, and stumbled into the stool behind him. He fell to the floor in a loud clatter and banged his head against the floor.
"Leave, now," Lucas repeated.
Shaking his head clear of the cobwebs connecting with the floor had brought on, Miles stood up, brushed off his jeans, and then launched himself at Lucas. He managed one good jab to the jaw before Lucas brought up his own arms to defend himself.
Cursing, Adam jumped the counter and tried to separate the men. The boys playing pool dropped their cue sticks in an effort to aid the bartender, but Lucas and Miles were too far gone.
Hell bent on killing each other, but for completely different reasons, Miles landed a knee in the stomach and a fist to the kidneys. Lucas, having a much stronger desire to see the scumbag in a hospital, had connected with Miles' face a few more times and had drawn blood.
One of the girls sitting at the tables picked up her cell phone and called the cops. Adam, hearing her on the phone, tried hard to break them up so he could get Lucas out of there, but luck wasn't on their side. What seemed like seconds but was probably a minute or so later the door to the bar burst open and two cops came barging in.
"Break it up!"
-
Rachel had gone home and done exactly what Brooke had told her to do. Stripped down, unplugged or turned everything off except her cell phone, and slipped into the hottest bubble bath she quite possibly had ever taken.
After soaking out the stress in her muscles Rachel snagged a thing of ice cream, her favorite plush pillow and blanket, and snuggled into the couch. The past two days had definitely justified some personal down time and a chance to unwind.
She still didn't know where it had all gone wrong. Sure, when they'd gotten off the plane she'd had to stamp down the panic that Lucas would actually get back on another plane and fly back to Brooke, but he'd seen reason and gone home instead. Then that night she'd gotten the phone call that maybe had started the ball rolling.
"Hello?"
"Hey Rach…let's go out tonight."
"Luke?"
"Duh, who else were you expecting?"
"Very funny. We just got home Lucas! And you want to go back out again?"
"Hey what happened to the party girl huh? 'Always up for a drink, a dance, and a fuck?'"
"Oh that's still true, but there's a limit to what I'm willing to do when, you know." She really was tired. Rehashing all the drama with Brooke had left her feeling drained and empty.
"Please, Rach. I don't want to stay inside. Not when I don't know what's going on with Brooke, if she's okay…I can't."
Rachel sighed.
"Alright, meet me at Durango's in thirty."
"Sweet."
That night, they'd gotten drunk. She snorted. Drunk was playing nice. They'd gotten down right smashed. One minute they'd been laughing and cutting up, the next minute Lucas had been smack in the middle of the dance floor, body glued to the curves of some bimbo that looked vaguely familiar.
They hadn't really talked much about Miles or the miscarriage, but she could tell he was bothered. She may not be the most perceptive of their little band of friends, but she knew well enough when things were spiraling out of control. Like right then for example.
When she saw the airhead tug on his arm in an effort to hijack her friend Rachel had put her foot down. No way was she going to let him go back down that road and end up loathing himself again. She had waltzed up to the pair, slipped her arms around his waist and given the blonde idiot the evil eye.
Just what exactly she'd said to chase the bottle blonde away Rachel didn't remember, but it had been effective, which is all she'd been aiming for. Lucas was angry for a little while, but Rachel stood her ground. Sure enough, less than thirty minutes later he'd shifted moods, was eternally grateful for being saved from what would undoubtedly have been a horrible mistake, and then turned dark and broody.
It was no surprise to Rachel when Lucas started turning in on himself. What had caught her off guard was the sudden insistence on another round of shots, and then another, and another, before he up and disappeared again. It seemed magic was on his list of to do's for the night, and as far as she could tell, he was doing beautifully.
Unfortunately he'd decided to add getting in trouble with the bouncer to his list of accomplishments and she'd found him as he was being escorted out the back exit. The meathead who'd cuffed her friend and tossed him summarily into the alleyway wouldn't let her go with him, and she'd had to push her way through the crowd to the front door to leave.
After finally tracking him down, they'd gotten a cab and gone back to his apartment in hopes of possibly sleeping off whatever it was that had Lucas so…screwed up. It would have worked too, if he hadn't seen a billboard on the way home with her picture plastered all across the front, and then heard a commercial for an upcoming fashion show that would center around her clothing line.
By the time the cab had actually pulled up in front of his apartment he was gone. And there wasn't a damn thing Rachel could do about it. Didn't mean she wasn't going to try though. When each and every damn attempt to bring him out of his funk failed miserably, Rachel'd done the only thing she knew left to do. Called Brooke.
If only she had known that she'd be calling on the fierce brunette again.
-
The ringing of her phone hours later snapped Brooke out of the half conscious state she'd drifted off into on the beach.
Groaning, Brooke sat up and shook the sand from her hair, stretching the kinks out of her body. She fumbled for her cell, finally flipping it open with an exasperated greeting.
"What."
"Brooke?"
"Rachel?"
"Hey listen…are you still in New York? Wait, that's a stupid question. Forget that. Can you come back?"
"Huh? What's going on? You alright?" Brooke was confused. This was definitely one of the stranger conversations she'd had in the last seventy-two hours.
"I'm fine, but, well, I could use your help."
"My help? What for?"
"You see, uhm…"
"Spit it out bitch," Brooke urged, wanting to know what was going on.
"Well, Luke's in jail."
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah, I know, same fucking reaction I had. It gets worse," Rachel added, the hesitation blatantly obvious in her voice.
"Worse? Do I even wanna know?" Brooke rubbed a hand across her forehead, her headache suddenly back with a vengeance. God she was so tired.
"Miles is in there with him."
Dead silence met that particular statement.
"Brooke?"
"I'll be there as soon as I can." The phone clicked shut, Brooke cussed up a storm, and Rachel sighed in relief.
"Damn you Miles," was Brooke's last thought.
-
Lucas nursed the shiner and gingerly moved his jaw, testing for soreness. The punk hit like a girl. He nearly laughed. Then it occurred to him that he was going to, at some point or another, have to explain why it was he was in jail with his ex girlfriend's soon to be ex husband, and the irony of it all hit him with a vengeance. Brooke was going to slaughter him.
Scowling in the corner, Miles glared darkly at the other inhabitants of the jail cell he was currently occupying. They'd separated him and the blonde asshole who'd taken a swing at him after they'd resumed the fight at the police station. If only they'd locked the sumbitch up in a completely different sector, but no, they'd just had to put them in neighboring lockups. He could see the blonde flexing his jaw, and all Miles wanted to do was reach through the bars and hit the other side. Fucking idiot.
Miles was pissed. He was still drunk, infuriated, and just itching for a fight. One word, one stray glance, and the next sorry s.o.b. to feel his wrath wouldn't get off as lightly as the first one had. He still didn't know who he was, or why he'd hit him. The only thing he registered was that somehow he knew Brooke. Which automatically landed him on Miles' shit list. Worthy of being pummeled into oblivion. If only the damn cops hadn't shown up.
Lucas, well, he wasn't sitting in the dark like Miles. He knew full well why he'd done what he did, who he did it too, and…okay, maybe he didn't know what the consequences would be, but he had hopes that it wouldn't be too bad. After all, he had warned the guy, and Adam had asked the guy to leave, Lucas had just been helping.
Right?
He swore quietly. He was in for it now.
-
Brooke hopped the first flight to New York – again – and hailed a cab to Rachel's place. When she banged on the door, she had no qualms about the volume of the sound she was making. If she was stuck in her own personal version of the Twilight Zone from hell then everyone else could suffer too.
Rachel threw open the door, purse and jacket in hand ready to take off. She didn't even stop to apologize to Brooke, or say thank you. She just grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway toward the elevators on the way to the parking lot. They needed to get to the station, and she really didn't want to be alone with Brooke's anger for too long. After all it wasn't her fault Brooke was angry, Lucas and Miles shared in that particular burden. And they could damn well share in the fall out.
The car ride to the precinct was silent. Brooke was inwardly fuming over the fact that she was back in New York coming to the rescue of one blonde brooding boy again and this time he managed to tangle her up smack in the middle of it all. Rachel was quietly tossing scenario after scenario over in her mind trying to come up with one that wouldn't result in them all back behind bars, this time for attempted murder.
She'd yet to come up with a viable plan. To say she was worried would be an understatement.
Turning the corner, Rachel pulled into the parking lot and slid into the first available space. Brooke was out the door and half way up the steps before Rachel had even thrown the car into park.
"Brooke! Hang on!" Rachel shouted, hurrying to catch up with her friend on a mission. The morbid inner Rachel wanted to be there for every second of the show down about to happen. She even wished for a split second that she'd thought to bring a camcorder, this was going to be good.
Brooke didn't even hesitate in her stride. She wanted answers, she wanted them now, and only the two currently residing inside those stone walls could give them to her. Rachel would just have to hurry her skinny ass up.
Slamming her way through the front doors and up to the receiving desk, Brooke paused just long enough to catch the eye of one of the desk sergeants. Thankfully the station was one of the smaller ones, and she didn't have to go through myriad doors to find the person she'd need to speak with.
"Can I help you miss?" Eyeing her warily from behind the counter was an elder man in his forties, slightly graying hair completing the rumpled look he was sporting. If Brooke had taken a minute longer to observe the setting, she'd of realized he was probably nearing the end of his shift.
"Yes, I'm here for Lucas Scott and Miles Duncan. I was told they were being held here?" Brooke tried to calm herself down. The last thing she needed to do was piss off the officer behind the desk. Then they'd all be screwed.
"Scott and Duncan? What are they being held for?"
"Public intoxication and disturbing the peace," Rachel supplied, skidding up to the counter next to Brooke.
"One moment," the officer said, stepping away to search the registry for their names.
Brooke stood tapping her manicured nails gently on the counter, Rachel shifting anxiously from foot to foot next to her. Two seconds longer and Brooke was sure she was going to scream in frustration.
"Right, here they are. They're being held in two separate cells, we had to move one when they started fighting again. The bar's not pressing charges, and if they both agree to go their separate ways then we can release Scott tonight and Duncan in the morning after he sleeps off the PI. You know them?"
Rachel opened her mouth to answer but Brooke beat her to it.
"One's my husband and the other's my ex boyfriend. Do you think I could see them?"
The poor officer's eyebrows rose at the identification but he merely nodded in agreement. He'd seen and heard weirder, and a part of him felt sorry for the men in lock up. Yet another love triangle, two men who couldn't come to terms over one woman. Not that the slip of a woman in front of him wasn't worthy of a good bar brawl.
"Who do you want to see first?"
"Miles Duncan," Brooke stated, finally ready to put an end to all this shit. She was done playing.
Another officer lead Brooke to a holding area where it was indicated that she was to stay put. A few minutes later Miles shuffled into the room looking anywhere but at the woman standing defiant in front of him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She hissed, not even waiting until the officer had backed off for privacy.
Miles just shrugged, not willing to acknowledge that he'd done a damn thing wrong. As far as he was concerned, the world was out to get him and he was just trying to survive. He almost snorted. Not even he could believe that blatant lie.
"I swear to god Miles, this is it. I'm done. You've ruined the very last thing for me, you've squandered away your last chance at staying within my good graces. You are going to refuse to press charges, you are going to hop the first flight back home, you are going to sign those damn papers and then you are going to disappear off the face of the fucking earth!" Brooke was nearly screaming by now, all the pent up anger she'd been simmering on finding its outlet in the form of the bowed shoulders and weary body before her.
"Brooke…"
"NO! I'm done Miles! If you don't do this, I'm going home and calling them. I'm calling your family, the investors, everyone, I'm opening up that little closet that holds all your skeletons, and I'm spilling all! I've kept your secrets for you for long enough! I'm tired!"
"You cant!"
"Watch me, Miles. Just watch me as I dial that phone and end it all. You think I don't know what everyone has told you? The stipulations they've put on the cushy life you've been living?"
"Brooke please don't," he begged.
"Oh its too late to plead. Any shot you had at appealing to my kinder side flew out the window when you got drunk and hit Lucas!"
"He hit me first!" Lucas? So that was his name? Miles filed away that little tidbit of information for later. She did know him…his interest in the stupid blonde climbed a couple notches.
"It doesn't matter! You still hit back!"
"What? That doesn't even make sense!"
"Miles, I'm not having this argument with you. Seriously. You're going to sleep off whatever hours the cops demand for the PI and you're going to decline pressing charges, then fly your sorry ass back home, and sign me back into freedom. If you don't, so help me god, I'll pick up my phone and call every single person that has any control over you and make your life a living, breathing, hell." Brooke's chest was heaving she was so riled up. But oh did it feel good to finally put all her thoughts into words.
Miles just stood there, watching as the woman he'd lost himself to threatened every aspect of his life, all to get away from him. Was he really that despicable? Something indefinable broke inside him and shattered into a million pieces. He stared back at her with blank eyes.
"Do you understand me?" Brooke hammered home the last nail in the coffin that was their failed marriage. She knew she was being a cold hearted bitch, but she was done playing games. She'd given him numerous chances to fix it. He'd stalled, now it was time to play hardball.
Miles nodded numbly and turned his back on the only thing that had kept him functioning on even a tiny level as he returned to the cell to await the morning.
Brooke inhaled deeply and let it out on a huge sigh. Her only hope was that Miles would get the picture this time, and stick to the plan. She didn't want to ruin him, bring him to his knees like that. She just wanted out. Damnit, she had a right to a life too!
And bingo, she was back to fuming.
"Easy Davis, calm down. Time to handle Lucas," she talked herself into a tentative peace, waiting for the officer to bring in her Broody next. Him, though, she was going to take home.
The door opened again, this time admitting the blonde one. It was like night and day, the difference between Miles and Lucas. He was sheepish beyond all recognition, and for a minute Brooke considered letting him off the hook. Then the evil glint in her eyes came back and Brooke stood her ground.
He was mumbling something as the guard stepped back and went to retrieve Lucas' personal effects. With Brooke vouching for him, and no one pressing charges, he was free to go. Not that he knew that. And Brooke had great intentions of keeping that particular piece of information away from him for a few moments. She wanted to play.
"So you wanna tell me what happened?"
"Not really," was the mumbled reply.
"That wasn't really an option. Try again."
"It doesn't matter."
"Like hell it doesn't Lucas! I don't have to bail your ass out of here! You really want to stay in jail?" Okay, so maybe this wasn't the direction she'd envisioned for this particular conversation.
"I didn't ask you to come here, Brooke. If you want answers, you're not going to get them from me. Why don't you go talk to your precious husband," he nearly sneered. He was tired, depressed, and emotionally strung out. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Brooke and her mind games or demands.
"What?! Are you serious?" Brook scoffed. Crossing her arms, she waited for Lucas' better sense to kick in.
"Yes, Brooke, I'm serious. I don't need another mother, not that you'd know what that meant anyways." As soon as he'd said the words, he immediately regretted them. He would have given his life to take what he'd just said back.
Brooke paled. He didn't. He wouldn't be that cold. He couldn't mean it.
"Screw you Scott," she spat, tearing out of the room like a bat out of hell.
"Brooke! Wait!" Lucas shouted after her, instantly sorry and desperate to fix it with the brunette. But she didn't listen. She was done caring.
She slammed through the doors she'd just been shown through, brushing past the officer waiting on the other side with a plain manila envelope.
Two tears slipped down her cheek, the anger still burning too brightly to allow for the shock and pain and heartache that his careless comment had inflicted. She hadn't asked him to be a part of her life like that, he'd pushed and she'd finally opened up, and this was how he repaid her. She'd be damned before she let that happen again.
Rachel jumped at the sound of the door slamming and watched, curious, as Brooke flew threw the precinct.
"Brooke?" Rachel called out to her friend, hoping to find out just what had happened.
When no answer came, she went up to the desk to see if she could talk to Lucas, maybe he knew what happened.
"Excuse me, but could I please talk to Lucas Scott? I need to sign his paperwork for release, and I was hoping to speak with him for a moment."
The officer that had helped them initially looked over the documents in front of him, and instead suggested she just sign the paperwork for Lucas' release and talk to him on the way home, seeing as how everything else was taken care of.
Rachel absent mindedly signed what was put in front of her and accepted responsibility for her friend's possessions. She stood waiting for a few moments when she finally saw the tousled blonde head making his way into the main lobby.
"Lucas! Finally! What's going on?"
"Where's Brooke?"
"Huh? What? She left, do you have any idea what's going on?"
"I kinda said something I shouldn't have, and stuck my foot in it pretty deep," Lucas hesitantly admitted. He had shoved his hands down deep into his front pockets, and rocked back and forth on his heels. He felt horrible.
"You did what?!"
"I know Rach, I didn't mean to! I'm just tired and sore, and confused. She pushed and I snapped!"
"Oh Lucas, you're a class act, you know that? Come on, let's see if she took the car or caught a cab," Rachel said, tugging on his arm to drag him outside. She was ready to go home, and hopefully talk to Brooke. And beat Lucas' ass for being an insensitive prick.
The car was waiting out front just where Rachel had parked it, which meant, Rachel hoped, that Brooke had caught that cab. It wasn't like Brooke didn't know her way around New York, but still. She made a mental note to track her down in a couple hours if the woman didn't show soon.
-
Brooke stumbled along the dark street blindly, her tears clouding her vision. Her anger fueled her along, kept her from breaking down completely.
She really wanted, no, needed to know, just what went wrong back in that police station. She'd been so happy to see Lucas again when Rachel had dragged him through her doorway. She'd honestly thought they could be friends again, reconnect.
And now? Now, he was an ass and said shitty things while she fought hard to keep the tenuous balance her life had managed the last few months or so. She didn't ask for any of the things that had happened in the last week or so, hell, she hadn't asked for anything that her life had turned into except for maybe the fashion career.
Vaguely Brooke registered the hotel looming ahead of her and she stopped to flag down a cab. She had no where else to stay than Rachel's, and she knew it wasn't within walking distance. She needed to get off the streets, and she wanted a nice hot bath. Anything to soothe the scrambled thoughts and chaotic frame her mind was in.
Brooke turned her mind again to what had happened in the station. It felt amazingly wonderful to have finally told off Miles. Of that she was certain, and was completely satisfied with how the show down with her husband, soon to be ex, went. When Lucas had entered she was sure he had been sorry, and she's almost let him off the hook.
But for some reason she'd snapped when he replied differently than she'd been expecting. Before she could really register what was going on she was flying out the door, his fate be damned. The sound of his voice calling out to her barely registered, and even now she wasn't entirely certain she'd heard right. Chances were he'd been calling her back so he could rub it all in her face just a little bit more.
No, that wasn't fair. Her Broody wasn't like that. He probably felt as horrible as she did right now. She certainly hoped he did anyways. Worse even.
The sight of the yellow cab pulling up to the curb broke Brooke from her train of thought. Slipping into the back seat she gave the driver directions and leaned back against the glass. A lone tear slipped from her huge green eyes.
-
The car ride back to Lucas' was silent. Rachel was contemplating the several thousand ways Lucas could make it up to Brooke for whatever it was his stupid male mind had come up with, while Lucas fumbled to focus on even one tiny thing. His head was swimming with everything he'd absorbed in the last three days, and he was exhausted.
He'd thought for sure that he'd gotten past all his hang ups on the past. Being in Brooke's house, near her, within the same breathing space though had drastically changed his mind in that particular area. He loved her, he had to finally admit, and it scared the ever loving daylights out of him.
If he was brutally honest with himself he'd admit he never stopped loving her. The unfairness of it all nearly robbed him of his breath. She was married. Married. It wasn't like a boyfriend that he could beat up and chase away. She had committed to spending the rest of her life with this guy. It didn't matter, at least not in his head right then, that it wasn't happy. Or that she'd been trying to divorce the man for the last four years.
All that mattered was that she was married. Oh, that, and she had a kid.
A kid, for that matter, who probably knew him better than she did her own mother. Enter problem number two, the size of a giant. He needed to back up in order to truly appreciate just how huge this particular problem was.
Echoes of their fight the night before still bounced around in his head, things she'd said that had found a place inside his heart. He'd never meant to chase her away, but he was reeling. He was lost and didn't even have a hint of what the next step was supposed to be.
He was smart enough however to know that beating up her husband probably wasn't the next step he was supposed to have taken.
And then there was the whole thing at the police station. He had most certainly NOT meant to say the things he'd said. Or behave the way he had. He had intended on groveling, doing some judicious begging, and hoping beyond everything else that she wouldn't be so mad at him that he'd never see her again. He had too many things he had to make up for, namely starting with letting her walk out his bedroom door so many years ago.
Okay, so he was hurt. So he was angry that Brooke had a child with another man. So he was incensed that she'd be coming to their marriage having already had one.
Wait.
What?
Their marriage?
It fit thought. It made him happy. Yes. Their marriage. He was going to marry Brooke. He was going to help her raise her daughter. He was going to prove to her that the love he felt for Brooke was all encompassing. That, after all these years, she was still it for him.
Everything suddenly felt insanely better. Screw whatever they'd gone through in the last couple of days. Lucas knew what he wanted, and didn't plan on stopping until he got it. He would figure out what it would take to get it later.
He wanted Brooke Davis.
He wanted his Pretty Girl.