Chapter 12
The letter went to her home, addressed in Lucas' messy scrawl. It came a couple of months ago, and once in a while she picks it up and stares at it, unwilling, or unable, to open it. She talked it over with her therapist, but despite her encouragement, she still found herself conflicted about reading it. Today, she finally signed the last of the paperwork and completed what she set out to do. So, maybe it's time to begin to deal with other issues after all. She uses a small metal ruler as a letter opener and tears the envelope.
"Dear Brooke, I realize you do not want to hear from me, and I want first to apologize for not respecting your wishes. I hope you will agree that what I'm about to write justifies my intrusion. I have recently found out the reason for the attack to your person last year. A few days before the attack, a young woman tried shoplifting at your store. You stopped the attempt, and got physically assaulted for it. This young woman has a close friend, who happens to be the younger brother of Xavier Daniels. Xavier heard his brother and the young woman discussing the shoplifting incident, and told them you had to be 'taught a lesson'. That, plus whatever Daniels could steal from your store, was the actual reason for the attack. I hope this information, together with the stiff prison sentence imposed on Daniels helps put that awful incident behind you.
I hope I'm not overstepping when I express my wishes for your continued health and happiness. Always yours, Lucas Scott."
For the second time in one day, she feels like a huge weight drops from her shoulders. She confronted Victoria, accusing her of arranging the attack. Victoria denied it in the strongest terms, but Brooke couldn't shake her doubts. Victoria is a nasty, selfish creature, but she didn't do it. She didn't send someone to hurt her. The tears are both relief and a deep ache that won't go away. What could have been. What should have been... She straightens her shoulders, shakes her head and takes her pills. She heads to bed. One more thing to do. A little thing, and she'll be able to face the rest of her life.
=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=
Bounce the ball... one, two, and shoot. Just net. Grab it, turn around. Run, pivot and run again. Ball to one hand. Jump. Grab the rim, dunk the ball. Hold onto the rim. Let go... Someone is clapping. Skillz, a silly smile on his face. "That was beautiful, dawg."
Lucas holds his knees, dripping sweat and breathing deeply. Practice ended an hour ago, and he just lost himself to the flow of the ball and the hoop. Skillz comes closer, and Lucas finally catches his breath to answer. "Thanks."
Skills gives him a friendly clap on the back. "Since when can you dunk?"
Lucas smiles. "It's a recent development."
"No kidding!"
"I'm just trying to keep my form. I don't want get too embarrassed going one-on-one against..."
"Nathan Scott? Small forward for the Bobcats?" Skillz laughs. "Keep dreaming, dawg."
Lucas glares playfully at his friend. "Yeah, right. Rub it in." Getting his ass handed to him at one-on-one by Nathan feels nice, after what the poor bastard went through.
Skillz grabs the ball, bounces it twice and throws. The ball rolls around the rim and goes in. Skillz does a little dance. "And he scores, ladies and gents."
Lucas grabs the ball and they walk towards the office, in friendly silence. In Lucas' office a girl is waiting for them, back turned to the door. Bubblegum pink hair, straight with ends curling in at her neck, large hoop earrings, an off-white summer dress with dark green trim. She seems familiar...
"Oh, hello... cutie!" Skillz mocking voice and his eyes expressing his appreciation for the shapely derriere.
"Well... thank you, handsome." She doesn't turn around, but both Lucas and Skillz would recognize that voice anywhere.
Lucas stops at his office's door, heart skipping a beat. She finally turns around, a half smile on her face. Skillz doesn't miss a beat, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. "If it isn't our missing cheer princess! Good to see you, littl'Brookie. Like the pink."
She hugs him right back. "Good to see you too, Champion." Skillz is blocking Brooke's view of the door, so she asks. "Where's Lucas?"
Skillz laughs and gets out of her line of sight. "Not far." Lucas and Brooke's eyes meet, and they both stand still, not knowing what to say. Skillz stands aside, looks at Brooke and at Lucas and laughs again. "It looks like you two have a little catching up to do." He moves towards the door and pulls Lucas in by his shoulder. "I'll just leave now. See y'all later!" He closes the door behind himself.
Lucas breaks the silence with a clever comment. "Eh..." He can't stop staring at her. Pink hair, the simple dress. Breathtaking. Anger, fear and an attraction that goes straight to his groin. Then he sees the tired eyes, the stress on her shoulders, her hands kneading one another. She's tense and afraid. Anger, fear and lust go right off the window. She's hurting. He rushes forward and wraps his arms around her. An instinct buried deeply in his soul. She's hurting.
Brooke buries her face in Lucas chest and begins to cry softly. Two hugs. One, a friendly balm. The other... home. She lets go, the smell of unwashed male sweat, the feel of his strong arms around her. His solid chest. Her arms wrap tightly around his waist. She lets herself go, the first time in a long time. Drops turn into a deluge. They stay together, a minute, and then five. It takes a while for her to find her words again. "Lucas..."
He steps back, hands on her shoulder, his baby blues staring right into her soul. "Brooke..." A million questions in one word. He guides her to his chair and squats in front of her, holding her small hands in his rough big ones. Giving her a little space. Waiting.
She searches for something to say, but every word she's been planning to say for weeks have disappeared. Her eyes roam, finally seeing the ring on his left hand. A dagger of ice stabs her heart. Her voice turns to a whisper. "You're... you're married."
Lucas looks at the ring, as if surprised to see it there. He answers a bit too quickly. "Divorced."
She frowns, looking back to his eyes. She sees the hurt in them, but she has no idea where it comes from. "Taylor?"
"Yup." Hurt turns to a small smile. Good memories and a friendly parting. Maybe a little too friendly, which is the reason for the smile. Watching the play of emotions, Brooke is confused. Lucas sighs. "It's a long story." He decides to change the subject. "Pink?"
Brooke's confusion turns into a watery smile. "Too long dealing with bankers, lawyers and managers. Needed a change, the opposite of stuffy." She flicks her hair with her fingers. "This kinda felt right." She looks at him, turning her head sideways a bit. "You like?"
He looks at her face for what seems like a long time, but it's actually a few seconds. Finally he nods. "Yeah." Another long pause. "It's... different." He wanted to say 'sexy'. He is also very curious whether the rug matches the curtains, but he is not brave enough to ask. "What are you doing here?"
She approaches him, sets a hand softly in his chest. "I had a question to ask. I wanted to do it in person."
He grabs the hand and squeezes it. "Ask away?"
She seems lost in thought for a moment. Then she smiles, one of her genuine ones, with the dimples and all. She pulls her hand from his and takes a half-step back. "You've already answered it, in a way. I wanted to know if I had totally lost you."
Lucas thinks back to the hug they shared a few minutes before, and laughs softly. "I guess I did answer it."
"I'm, so, so sorry..."
Lucas grimaces. "For what?"
"For everything. For hurting you."
"I told you back then. The door was open and the choice was yours. You made your choice. I even understood your reasons..."
It's Brooke's turn to grimace. "Don't prevaricate, Broody! You put yourself out. Again. I answered you with a letter. You were angry and hurt. I know. And I'm sorry." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Can you forgive me? Again?"
Lucas stands, steps back and looks at his hands. "In a way, I already did. In another way, I don't know."
"Sorry. I don't understand."
He shakes his head. "I'm not sure I do either." He leans against his desk. "How long are you in town?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. Depends."
"Depends on what?"
"I don't have anywhere else to be. So I'm sticking around, until..." The sentence seems to tail off into nothing. Lucas waits for a bit, but loses patience.
"Until what?"
"Until you forgive me, I guess."
Lucas smiles, mischievously. He would rather Brooke stuck around. "It might be a while."
She slaps his arm. "Stop it. I'm happy to stay."
"Ouch!" She giggles at his fake drama. "Where?"
"What?"
"Where are you staying, damn it!"
"I have no idea." She points to a small yellow suitcase standing at the corner. "That's my stuff. Do you have a place I can crash?"
"Of course."
She stares at him a bit, trying to guess what he's thinking. Something fun, probably. "Can we get out of here?"
He turns serious. "I need to go home for a shower. I'm supposed to have dinner with Peyton and Nora tonight. Wanna join?"
She looks at him suspiciously. "You think I'd be welcome?"
"Of course you would." Nora and Peyton have been bugging him about bringing in a date to their dinners for a while now. "I'll call ahead anyways."
"I'm going to need a shower too."
"We have plenty of time. Are you driving?"
"No. I came by cab."
"That's fine. Let's go to my place. Maybe I can introduce you... to someone."
"Who?"
"You'll see."
"Lucas Scott!"
"You'll see, Pretty Girl."
She growls. "All right. Let's go." She still hates surprises. Loves them, but hates them.
It's a couple of hours past last bell, so Lucas' car is the only one left in the staff lot. The Mustang looks old, but lovingly cared for. Lucas puts her suitcase in the trunk and, as a good Karen-raised southern gentleman, opens the passenger door for Brooke.
Brooke smiles to herself, pleased with the attention, as Lucas arranges himself on the driver's seat. He gets out of the parking lot, and much to Brooke's surprise, turns away from the downtown area, towards the beach. She closes her eyes and lets the sway of the ride and the soft rock from the radio soothe her frayed nerves. It's a twenty-minute drive. She can smell the ocean nearby when Lucas parks at the old Scott beach house, next to a green Mini.
The beach house is a large two-story pale wood and glass modern place, with a wrap-around porch, a huge living area downstairs and several bedrooms upstairs. It was built for weekend fun and entertaining and Brooke recalls quite a bit of hard, liquid fun she enjoyed there. It's been changed, though. Softer lighting, pastel colors, metal and leather furniture replaced by light wood, fabrics and a few personal touches. A bit of a woman's touch too. Not a family home, but more homely than Brooke remembers. They walk in, Lucas still carrying Brooke's suitcase. "Place looks good, Broody."
"Thanks."
"Is it temporary?"
"No. This is home now." There's nobody around, but Brooke can't avoid noticing the pink sweatshirt hanging from the back of the sofa. Lucas raises his voice. "Sam! We have a guest."
A sullen teen girl voice answers. "Coming! No need to shout."
Lucas and Brooke wait, listening to the heavy steps down the stairs. Short stature, mousy brown hair worn loose, jeans shorts, not too tight, all star sneakers, no socks and a cute green tank top. Soft looking, not an athlete. Brooke's instincts yell bookworm, but that just might be the company she keeps. A soft look towards Lucas, and a hard defensive stare to her. Coiled. Vaguely familiar too.
Lucas voice interrupts her line of thought. "Brooke Davis, meet Samantha Walker." Brooke turns to Lucas with a frown. "I'm fostering her."
The sense that she met this girl before plus Lucas letter click in Brooke's mind. "You were the thief"
Brooke turns rigid with fury. "What's she doing here?"
Sam raises her voice. "And you're still a bitch."
"Hey!" Lucas turns to Sam first. "Manners! She's a guest." And then to Brooke. "Later."
Brooke crosses her arms under her breasts and Sam goes back up the stairs and slams a door. "Fine, Lucas. Spill."
"It was a few months after you left. Taylor and I stopped at a roadside biker bar in South Carolina for a drink and a bite. She was there with a group. Three guys and an older woman. There was an argument, loud. She got up, tried to leave. One of the guys grabbed her, slapped her, threw her on the floor and was about to kick her in the ribs. Taylor stopped him. Hard. The other two guys tried to help. Taylor and I stopped them even harder. We got a little banged up. They ended up in jail. Drug trafficking, assault, kidnapping, rape. She had spent over a month getting brutalized and raped by these guys. Afterwards she just clung to us . We let her cling, took her in. We got married to help with the red tape. She's a smart girl with a good heart, but she's a long ways away from fine." His face softens when he talks about Sam.
"And Xavier?"
"Sam has been in the system since she was five. Sam and Xavier's little brother, Jack, are best friends. Jack lived with Xavier, and Sam was often crashing at their place. After Xavier got arrested, child services took Jack in and found him a placement two hundred miles away. They didn't like that and decided to run, with some money left around Xavier's home. A week later, Jack was found in a ditch with no money and two broken legs. Sam was gone."
"Fuck."
"Right."
"How did you make the connection?"
"She heard someone asking about Xavier's conviction. She started asking questions and it clicked. It frightened her, that I might send her away, but in the end she spilled. Hence the letter."
Brooke stares at Lucas, her mind spinning. She speaks in a near whisper. "I thought my mother had sent that guy after me, you know? I confronted her, she denied, but I was never fully convinced. Your letter took a big weight from my mind. Thanks."
"No problem." He looks a little embarrassed, and changes subject. "Spare towels at the closet in the hallway upstairs. Take the second room to the left. It's got a view to the beach and an en suite bath with a jacuzzi."
She smiles and slides a hand softly down Lucas' arm.. "Well, thank you. You still know how to please."
An hour later, Brooke is nearly ready to leave her room when Sam comes in, without knocking, and closes the door behind herself. Brooke is about to complain about knocking when she hears Sam muttering to herself. "... stupid bitch."
Brooke lets out a little annoyance in her tone. "What did you call me?"
"Taylor used to call you that. The 'stupid bitch'"
Brooke flinches a bit, hurt rather than mad. "It fits, I guess." Sam keeps glaring at her. "My loss, her gain."
"They were very good together."
"That doesn't surprise me, little girl."
"Don't call me that." Brooke shrugs. "She said you might come back."
"So?"
"She left you a message. 'Don't hurt him again. I have a shovel.'." Brooke doesn't comment. "If you hurt him, she'll have to get in line."
Brooke waves her hands, dismissively. "I'd rather die than hurt him again."
