Chapter 29
I wasn't expectingthe magnitude of what was happening with Lucas until I walked into Rush House. It's so weird being back here. My apartment with Lux is small, but bright and airy, with a balcony that overlooks the water. Rush House is the complete opposite–huge, old musty, and dark.
I feel that darkness the minute I walk through the front door. Lucas's angry voice carries through the ancient house, vibrating off the dark wood panels.
"No! No! That fucking bitch is dead!"
What the fuck? I thought this was about Gabriel.
I follow Christian's clipped stride down the hallway to the living room where we all hang out. When he opens the door, and lets me step past him, I immediately reel back.
The room is completely destroyed, with glass scattered across the rug, and tables turned over. Several Burning Crown members are plastered against the wall, avoiding Lucas as he paces in a rage.
"Dude, Lucas. What the fuck?" I ask, venturing deeper into the room.
Mistake. He spins on his heel and the second he sees me, he turns his crazy-ass-focus on me. "Roman, fuck. There you are. Did Christian tell you what happened?"
I approach him like a stray cat I'm trying to capture, picking my way around all the broken glass. "Yeah, he did. I'm really sorry to hear about Gabriel."
He shoves a finger in the air, pointing at his brother. "Did he tell you why Gabriel did what he did?" There are tears in his eyes, but they're tears of rage.
Goddamn. Christian wasn't lying. Lucas has lost it.
I look around at everyone in the room. Ash is standing against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Jackson is standing by the pool table, silent, though I know he's on guard, waiting to step in if Lucas gets any more out of control.
"Everyone out," I say over my shoulder.
I don't have to tell them twice. Everyone except Jackson, Christian, and Ash file out of the room. Once everyone is out, I turn my attention back to Lucas.
"Dude, just calm the fuck down and tell me what happened," I say, keeping my voice calm, level.
"It's that fucking cunt," he yells that last part. "She did this. She drove him to it."
I can't even guess what he's on about, so I have no choice but to ask the obvious question. "Who are you talking about, Lucas?"
He's pacing again, and his breathing is heavy, and I'm confronted with the very real possibility that my best friend might be having a psychotic break.
"His fucking cunt girlfriend. Who the fuck else would I be talking about?"
It's at that point that I realize just how self-absorbed I've been lately because he says that like I should know who Gabriel was dating. Normally, I would know. Very little happens in our circle without me knowing. But the truth is, I've been so focused on Lux and my own shit that I haven't been paying attention to anything else.
I walk up to Lucas, and take him by the arms, shaking him a little. "Whatever happened," I say firmly. "Losing your shit isn't going to help. You need to calm the fuck down and talk to me. Then we can figure shit out from there."
That little speech does seem to sober him a bit. He pulls in a breath, then looks away. "He's gone, man." He glances back at me, and I can see the emotion in his eyes. His voice lowers to a near-whisper, "He's fucking gone."
I pull him into a hug. "I know, man. I know. We'll figure it out."
The first order of business is getting this guy into some kind of counseling. I'm not fucking with mental health. My brother went untreated for too long, and I still wonder if things could have been different if we'd gotten him help sooner.
Lucas pulls back and resumes his pacing, though his tone is calmer now. "This didn't have to happen," he says, shaking his head. "I fucking told her—"
Yeah, clearly something happened that I'm not aware of, but this doesn't seem like the time to get into the details. I walk to the mantel and pull a blunt and a lighter from the wooden box we keep there. I light the blunt and take a long pull, then hand it to Lucas. He ignores it at first, but I insist.
"Take a hit. That's not a request," I say, shoving the blunt into his chest. He grabs it from my hand, and takes a pull, then walks it over to Jackson.
Lucas falls into one of the armchairs, his gaze empty, like he's somewhere else. When he speaks, he doesn't look at any of us, just stares straight ahead. "I'm going to make her pay for this," he says robotically, all of his emotion tucked away somewhere deep, deep down.
I risk revealing what a shit friend I've been, but I have to know. "Who's going to pay, Lucas?"
Lucas' gaze flicks up to meet mine, and there's hate in his eyes. "Wyn Barker. She's the reason this happened."