Unarmed

Chapter 24

Lucas' POV

I head out of my apartment to get some fresh air. It's been nearly a month since my trial ended and while I'm no longer on every news channel, I still regularly get hate mail. Thankfully my apartment is a gated community and nobody can get in.

I pull my baseball cap low over my face as I walk to the gym on the other side of my complex. A week ago Chantelle told me she needed time and that's what I'm giving her. I want to start a new chapter in my life, with her in it. I've been contemplating moving to California and that's a discussion I want to have with her. But the fact that she won't even give me the time of day leads me to believe I just need to move on.

I get to the gym and head straight for the bench press. Pumping iron helps free my mind.

I workout until I am absolutely fatigued. My arms tremor with every movement and I know my workout is done.

As I'm walking back to my apartment, I take a quick detour through the parking garage. Chantelle's car isn't there. I hate to spy on her like this but it's my desperation. If you gave me a concrete answer, I would know where we stand.

I unlock my apartment door and head straight for the shower. As the hot water runs down my chest, I think about how to again approach Chantelle. I hate to beat a dead horse but I really need answers.

Once I'm done with my shower, I dial Chantelle's number.

I just hope that I can handle whatever answer she has for me.

Chantelle's POV

Lucas' face pops up on my phone screen and I hit the red button. It's past 9pm and I'm finally leaving the office. I've been hustling to remind my coworkers of my work ethic after this last month or so completely ruined me.

As I jump in my car, I feel a wave of sadness overcome me and just start bawling. It's so hard, this is so hard.

My heart wants Lucas. Everything in my being wants Lucas. But the small, rational part of me continues to remind me that he's murdered someone. Cop or no cop. Black or white. Someone's life is over because of his actions. It makes my stomach churn.

I head home, eager to open a bottle of wine and sink into a hot bath.

As I'm walking in my front door, I glance at my phone to see that Lucas has left me a voice message. I drop my stuff on the kitchen counter but take my phone with me into the bathroom. I press play as I start my bath water.

Hey, it's me. The message begins. Please Chantelle. I just want 10 minutes to talk. I just need to know where we stand. If it's over, then it's over but please, call me back.

I sigh as the message clicks off then head to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. I do want to talk to Lucas and I do owe him that. I'm just not ready. The thing is, I don't know if I'll ever be ready.

After filling my wine glass almost to the brim, I head back into my bathroom and strip down. I chug half the glass and wait for the tub to fill. Once the tub is almost full, I drop my favorite lush bath bomb in as I sink down into the piping hot water. I am surrounded by an aroma of rose petals as I close my eyes and lean my head onto the side of the tub. I blindly reach for the button embedded into the side, turning on the jets. I allow myself to drift off just slightly as I feel the stresses of the last few weeks leave my body.

When I open my eyes again, it feels late. My fingers are pruney and the bath water is less than lukewarm. I release the stopper then turn on the faucet and rinse myself off. I finish the other half of my wine as I dry off. By the time I crawl into bed, it's nearly 1am. I close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep.

The next meaning, I feel groggy. That glass of wine I had last night was much larger than it should have been. I groan as the light pours into my room. It's Saturday morning and the only thing I want to do is lay in bed all day. I turn over in bed and catch a glimpse of my hamper. And it's overflowing. I groan again as I throw my comforter off of me and get out of bed.

I've been avoiding my laundry for weeks. The last thing I want is to run into Lucas when I have no idea what I'm going to say to him.

I sort my brights and darks, putting my darks at the bottom of my hamper and the brights on top. I'm going to have to make two trips there's so many clothes.

I grab my detergent and a roll of quarters before making my way to the laundry room. It's a struggle to open the door as I juggle my hamper and detergent. I try to use my body weight to push open the door but it's more difficult than I thought it would be. As I'm trying to shimmy into the doorway, someone on the other side opens the door for me.

"Thanks," I say, a bit flustered as I get it together. When I look up, I'm face to face with Lucas.