Chapter 29
Samantha's POV
I stared at Lucas's rigid back as he practically dragged me away from Ellie and Jackson. His fingers dug into my wrist with unusual force, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. Something had shifted in that confrontation—something beyond the obvious tension between old friends.
"Lucas, slow down," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle despite my growing irritation. "You're hurting me."
He immediately loosened his grip but didn't stop walking. "Sorry," he muttered, not looking back at me.
When we finally reached the fountain at the center of the quad, Lucas released me completely and ran both hands through his hair—a nervous habit I'd come to recognize. His eyes kept darting back toward the path we'd just traveled, as if expecting Ellie to follow.
"What was that about?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Why did we have to leave so suddenly?"
Lucas's attention snapped back to me. "I just... I didn't want things to escalate."
"Escalate?" I raised an eyebrow. "It seemed like you were the one escalating things. What did you mean about Ellie's 'self-healing abilities'?"
A flash of panic crossed Lucas's face. "Nothing. It was just a figure of speech."
"It didn't sound like one," I pressed, watching his reaction carefully. "And Jackson seemed to catch something in it too."
"Can we drop it?" Lucas snapped, then immediately softened his tone. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed about the school punishment."
I studied him, noting the slight tremor in his hands, the way his eyes couldn't quite meet mine. Something was definitely off. After all this time fighting for his attention against Ellie's shadow, I couldn't afford to lose ground now.
"It's okay," I said, reaching for his hand. "I understand you're worried about me."
Lucas relaxed slightly, his shoulders dropping. "I am. I can't believe Ellie's being so vindictive about this."
I nodded, playing the part of the grateful girlfriend while my mind raced. Lucas was distracted, vulnerable. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to strengthen my hold on him—to ensure he wouldn't drift back toward Ellie and whatever secret they seemed to share.
"I don't want to go back to the dorms right now," I said softly. "I can't face everyone after what happened today."
"Where do you want to go?" Lucas asked.
I hesitated, as if the thought had just occurred to me. "Maybe... we could get a room somewhere? Just for tonight? I really don't want to be alone."
Lucas's eyes widened slightly. We'd been intimate before, but never spent an entire night together. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," I whispered, stepping closer to him. "I need you, Lucas. Only you understand me."
The conflict in his eyes lasted only a moment before he nodded. "There's a hotel near the mall. Nothing fancy, but..."
"It's perfect," I said, giving him a small, grateful smile.
As we walked toward his car, I felt a surge of satisfaction. Tonight would cement my place in Lucas's life. Whatever hold Ellie had on him—whatever strange secret they shared about "healing abilities"—it wouldn't matter after tonight.
The hotel room was indeed nothing fancy—standard beige walls, a queen bed with a floral comforter, and generic artwork above the headboard. But it would serve my purpose.
While Lucas was in the bathroom, I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror, adjusting my hair and unbuttoning the top of my blouse just enough to be enticing without seeming desperate. When I heard the bathroom door open, I turned with practiced vulnerability in my eyes.
"Thank you for staying with me," I said softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Lucas smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. I'll always be here for you, Sam."
I moved toward him slowly, placing my hands on his chest. "You're the only one who's ever really cared about me, you know that? After everything with my parents, with Margaret... you're the only one who sees me."
His expression softened, guilt flashing across his features. Good—guilt was useful. Guilt made him malleable.
I silenced him with a kiss. Soft at first, then deeper. I felt him hesitate—his shoulders were tense, his body pulling back slightly. Still thinking about her. The thought made me angry, but I didn't let it show.
I pressed closer, my hands sliding up his chest. "I need you tonight," I whispered against his lips. "Please, Lucas."
His arms came around me slowly, like he wasn't sure. I could feel him fighting with himself—guilt, confusion, want. So I kissed his neck, found that spot below his ear that always worked.
"Sam..." His voice sounded rough.
"Just be with me," I said quietly, unbuttoning his shirt. "That's all I want."
Then I felt it—the moment he gave in. His muscles relaxed. His breathing changed. Suddenly his hands weren't careful anymore. They were hungry, pulling me toward the bed.
As we moved together, I whispered the things I knew he wanted to hear. How much I needed him. How safe he made me feel. How special this was. My voice soft and small, like I might break.
But part of me stayed separate, watching. Even as I moved with him, even as I made the right sounds, I was still thinking.
In the heat of our passion, something strange happened. As Lucas's breathing grew more ragged and his movements more intense, I caught a glimpse of his eyes in the dim light—they seemed to flash with an amber glow, almost animal-like in their intensity. His grip on me tightened, fingernails digging into my skin just short of breaking it, and a low sound emerged from his throat that wasn't quite human.
What was that?