Put Me Back Together(83)

His attention drawn back to the newspaper, he held out a paper take-out bag from the coffee shop. “I got you a cruller,” he said as he took a bite of a raspberry danish.

I peered into the bag suspiciously. “No chocolate icing?” I complained.

Raising his eyebrows at me, Lucas grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down onto the bed in front of him, tickling me mercilessly. “Not even a, ‘Thank you, Boyfriend, for going out in the rain to get me a tasty breakfast?’” he said as I squealed and squirmed, crushing the newspaper underneath me. Then he leaned forward and gave me a kiss so deep that suddenly I didn’t feel much like laughing at all. “How can you stand that much chocolate so early in the morning, anyway?”

I gave him a look that was equal to the alarming nature of his question. “How much you have to learn,” I said, shaking my head.

As I hoisted myself up off the bed, I pressed my hand down on the newspaper, crushing it further. “Careful, I’m reading that,” Lucas said. As he straightened out the page, I looked down to see the front page headline.

Kindergarten On The Run?

I spun around, holding my stomach as it clenched painfully. Telling Lucas had not stopped the automatic reaction I had whenever I caught wind of a news story about Brandon.

Lucas took my hand and pulled me back around while simultaneously folding the newspaper over with his other hand. “There, it’s gone,” he said. Getting to his feet, he took me in his arms. I breathed in his scent and breathed out the bad memories. After about a minute of breathing like this and feeling his arms around me, my stomach had unclenched.

Like I said, magic arms.

“That’s why you ran away from Tim and me that day on campus, isn’t it?” Lucas said, putting it together. “I remember there was a news report blaring out of his ear buds. That idiot always plays his music too loud.”

“You remember that?” I said.

“Of course I remember it,” Lucas said. “About five seconds later you slipped and fell on your ass. How could I forget that?”

I pressed my hand against his cheek as his dimples popped. “That’s not what I remember,” I said. “I remember you picking me up.”

“I’ll always pick you up,” Lucas said. “I’ll always be there for you, Katie.” I closed my eyes at the sound of his lovely words and wondered if I would ever believe them completely without wondering why. “I promise I’ll throw the paper out right after I finish reading this article.”

“Deal,” I said, giving him my best half-smile.

Lucas shook his head, still looking down at me. “I still can’t really believe you’re ‘the babysitter.’ I must have read dozens of articles about you over the years. I think I even saw a picture of you once, but your head was turned away from the camera.”

I remembered that picture, too, and the way my father had torn it out of every newspaper he could get his hands on. He’d walked down the block ripping the front page off the newspaper on every front stoop until my mother screamed at him to get a hold of himself.

“Yeah, that was me. Being the sole surviving victim of a notorious child murderer sure can do wonders for your celebrity status,” I joked. I was trying to lighten the mood, but Lucas didn’t laugh. I think he could tell I didn’t really think it was funny, either.


“I’m sorry,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “I hide the paper and then a second later I bring it up all over again. I shouldn’t be talking about my amazement like it’s important. It’s just a lot to get my mind around. But we don’t have to talk about any of it if you don’t want to. Not if it hurts you.”

I shrugged. “It’s a good hurt. I’ve been holding that day inside of me for six years. I have to get used to talking about it. Making the subject off-limits would just be more hiding.”

“So they know he left Vancouver?” I asked tentatively as Lucas picked up the folded paper. Though I didn’t want to read any details about the crime, which always surfaced in any article about Brandon, I definitely did want to be aware of a possible manhunt.

“His probation officer reported him missing when he didn’t show up for an appointment,” Lucas replied cautiously, watching my face for distress. “The cops are on it—if he left the province, it’s a violation of his community supervision—but they don’t seem to be aware that he’s in Kingston.”

I nodded, unsure how to feel about this news.

“Although,” Lucas went on, “they could know where he is if I anonymously tipped them off.”

Grabbing the cruller, I stuffed a piece of it in my mouth to stem my rising anxiety. Sugar beat panic, right?

“They’ll put together in about two seconds that I go to school here, Lucas,” I said as I chewed. “They’ll realize he’s after me and start asking why.”

“They’ll probably assume he’s just still blaming you for the whole thing,” Lucas said. “His lawyers did try to pin it on you. They’ll probably issue a restraining order to protect you.”

I swallowed the last bite of doughnut before answering. “I’m pretty sure staying away from me is already part of his sentence. ‘Stay away from the victims.’ I remember hearing it during sentencing. The only living victim right now is me.”