punished lucas

Chapter 4 Truth

Chewing on a thumbnail by the window, Lucas looked over at him briefly then went back to frowning at the trees outside. "Do I look like I know?" he lied. "What did Dad tell you downstairs?"

"Oh, he was real talkative," Nathan said in disgust. "He told me to shut up, sit my ass down and finish my milk, so are you gonna tell me what's up or not? And don't tell me it's nothing, because I'm telling you right now I don't buy it. Whatever you did you're still in big trouble for it."

Lucas glanced over again, trying to seem unconcerned and failing miserably. "Big trouble like how? Like grounded for a few weeks?"

"No, like Dad's gonna kick your butt six times over."

"Kick my butt as in-?"

"As in I'd stuff a cushion down my pants and sit down while I still could. He's gonna take a belt to you, Luke. I saw it in his eyes and you know I have experience with that."

Lucas forced himself to chuckle. "Yeah, right. Dad's not that mad-"

"Are you kidding me, Luke? He totally flipped out downstairs! Have you forgotten how hard he smacked you in the kitchen?!"

"No, but he's not gonna belt me, Nate. He just ... he wouldn't."

"You mean he never did before," Nathan retorted, "but that's gonna change tonight. Trust me."

Luke's smile faded for good then because that wasn't at all what he wanted to hear. Alone in his bedroom for the last fifteen minutes, he'd convinced himself that this was the extent of his punishment: a handful of humiliating slaps to the butt followed by no supper and banishment upstairs for the remainder of the night. He hadn't allowed himself to consider that those two penalties were only the start, that more punishment was yet to come. And he definitely hadn't allowed himself to believe that he was in for a belting like Nathan had received months before. It wasn't supposed to be his turn to feel Dan Scott's wrath across his behind, not yet, not over his HCM of all things. It just ... wasn't!

As Nathan raised his eyebrows at him, reminding him that he was still awaiting an explanation for why the hell their dad was so pissed, Lucas couldn't bring himself to provide one. All he could think about now was the licking he was going to get and the missteps he'd taken that had led to this situation. Nauseated, he looked over at his brother, pleading with him to help somehow.

"This can't happen to me, Nate. I'm nowhere near ready."

"Well, ready or not, it's gonna happen, Luke."

"No." Lucas took a decisive step back and shook his head. "No way. It can't. I'm too old to get punished like that, and I'm not even his son like you've always been."

"Lucas-"

"I'm serious, Nate! We're not close enough yet for him to spank me with a frickin' belt!"

Nathan stared at his brother in open disbelief, waiting for Lucas to correct himself, but when nothing happened, he marched out of the room without a word, going straight down the hall and into the master bedroom. On the dresser were several framed snapshots of Dan Scott with his sons, a few with both boys at once but the majority featuring Dan with either Nathan or Lucas alone. Nathan bypassed the ones with him and his dad and snatched up the most recent photograph taken of Dan with his firstborn son. Back in Luke's room, Nathan tossed it onto the bed facing his brother.

"You and Dad aren't close enough?" he repeated. "That's bull and you know it. Take a look."

Unable to help himself, Lucas allowed his eyes to drift down to the picture on his mattress. He recognized it immediately. It was a still taken from a video shot three weeks prior by Shari Smith when her family, theirs and a few others linked to the Ravens had met up in Hanover Park for a picnic and a friendly game of touch-football. In the photo, Lucas was triumphant. He had just leapt onto his father's back after scoring the winning touchdown for their team and his right fist was raised high in victory, his left arm hugging Dan's neck. Below him, Dan was supporting his weight with ease, and he was just as jubilant as his son, his pride in Lucas plain to see as he looked up at him over his right shoulder. The photo on Luke's bed was only one capturing a very specific moment in time, but there were lots of Dan-Lucas/father-son moments now gracing the various bookshelves, family albums and dresser tops in the Scott mansion, at least two dozen, perhaps three. Each one was a testament to how Dan's relationship had changed with the son he had initially abandoned for sixteen years, how entrenched their kinship had finally become. After a year of living under the same roof, there were virtually no traces anymore of the cutting, neglectful father Dan had been, or of the guarded, suspicious son Lucas had been either, not in this photograph inches away, nor in any of the others decorating the house.