Chapter 23

Dana answered the door, and Lucca was there. They were a silhouette in the doorway, resplendent in the afternoon light. Even from that first moment, something felt off. Dana expected a Lucca that was relaxed, maybe even eager to have Valerie to themself for a few days; but instead, they seemed dour, and tense. They seemed unhappy.

“It’s good to see you,” Dana told them, backing off a step.

“It’s been a while,” Lucca responded, something lukewarm in their tone that Dana could not identify.

“I’ve been busy, just-” she gestured back toward the house, but trailed off. She felt uncertain and off-balance; she did not know what to make of the situation, or of Lucca’s bearing.

“Yeah.” Lucca’s voice was wooden. They gestured in through the door. “I’m sure you’re in a hurry?”

“Oh, uh— yeah. Come on in.” Dana stepped out of the way.

Lucca dropped a black canvas duffel bag off to the side as they stepped in; it landed with a thump next to Dana’s packed luggage, a sturdy, scuffed, and well-used roller bag.

“Where is your little project?” Lucca lifted a hand, gesturing vaguely towards the interior of the house.

Lucca’s choice of phrasing struck Dana as odd. A few weeks prior, she had gone over the high points of the contract with them, and Dana supposed they had taken a particular interest in the ’toy’ designation the contract used for Valerie.

“I was just in the office, working. She’s leashed up in there.”

Dana moved to lead the way, but Lucca was already walking. Their more neutral expression had drifted into a frown.

The two walked in silence down to the lower level. Lucca had been in the home enough times that they knew the way, and did not need any guidance. They had even helped design some of the home’s more unique features— its restraint systems, and the remote monitoring.

They rounded the corner into the office, and found Valerie, her trembling latex-clad form curled on a cushion; her face was flush, her lips gently parted, and she was breathing heavily. She was staring at nothing in particular, her hands balled into shiny black fists. The girl’s obvious lust would’ve normally lit a fire in Dana’s breast, but she was too off-kilter and distracted by Lucca’s attitude. Lucca looked down at the girl, unimpressed.

“That’s what’s been taking up all your free time?” Lucca sounded annoyed, dismissive.

“What, did you miss me?” Dana teased, half flirting. She instantly regretted the quip, and knew the tone was all wrong for the tenor of whatever was going on with Lucca that evening; but the words slipped out before she could think better of them.

“You’re just hyper-focused on it,” Lucca replied, and Dana winced internally.

It was a coded expression between the two of them; an old, old promise Dana had asked Lucca to make, to help her recognize when a new interest was slipping into unhealthy obsession.

Dana blinked at this— it may have been true at one time that her little fantasy project was a kind of hyper-fixation, but with Valerie actually a part of her life now, it had become something more.

“Hey,” she said softly, just loud enough for Lucca to hear. She reached a hand out to their forearm— a plea for something that she was not sure she could name. Lucca did not turn, and did not meet her eyes. Just as she was about to withdraw her hand, they reached over with their other hand and squeezed hers. It felt like a dismissal, and she dropped her hand down to her side.

Dana swallowed heavily and stepped back. Her heart was pounding and she felt less certain than ever.

“I’ve got to catch my flight.”

Dana hated how uneven her voice was in that moment. She turned and fled from the chilly distance of Lucca’s demeanor.

Dana dragged her suitcase out to the garage, loaded it into the trunk, and drove herself to the airport. She felt as though dark clouds swirled around her every step of the way, and she was suddenly dreading the six hour cross-country flight.

She had left earlier than she needed to, which turned out to be a blessing— she missed her exit and made several wrong turns, distracted by spiraling thoughts about the situation she had just left.

New hobbies— fleeting or otherwise— had stolen her focus away for weeks or months before, but in those instances Lucca has been bemused, and understanding. They, too, occasionally got lost in some new project. This was different, and Dana did not understand why.

She waved away the drinks that the flight crew wheeled through the first class cabin, and snapped shut the laptop that had, anyway, put itself to sleep an hour earlier. She had meant to use the flight to do a final round of revisions on the next day’s slide deck, but she only got as far as opening the folder with the slides in it before losing herself again in her brooding. She stared out the window as the sky shifted from overcast gray, through the oranges and pinks of a setting sun, and finally to inky darkness as the plane flew east.

If the problem was not simply one of free time, Dana reasoned, then it must be one of subject; either she or Valerie must have been at the root of Lucca’s anger. Dana knew that Valerie and Lucca had not had any contact since the night of the rescue; so that left herself.

The memory of Valerie’s rescue felt surreal; the nighttime plane flight, the ’emergency’ landing on a nearly-empty highway… but Lucca’s support, and the protectiveness and fierceness they showed for Dana and for Valerie, had felt as solid and as true as anything Dana had ever known.

The only substantial communication that they and Dana had after that was a few weeks later; after discussing an upcoming project, they’d spent a few hours chatting, and Lucca had pressed Dana for details who Valerie was— and why Dana had been so busy and distracted.

Dana had told them, then, about her relationship with Valerie, and briefly about the contract; she’d told them, even, of her original plan, and her change of heart. That part of the conversation had not gone well; she had seen the disapproval bloom in Lucca’s eyes. The end of that conversation had been uncomfortable and, she remembered, not entirely unlike the mood that Dana had just left.

However, days after that conversation, Lucca themself had asked to talk again.

“What you did was wrong. Unforgivable.” Lucca had not minced words.

“I.. yes.”

“But it could’ve been worse,” Lucca had continued.

One of the things that Dana respected most about Lucca was that they were pragmatic; which often meant recognizing that there were degrees of both good and bad.

“I… I couldn’t be that person,” Dana had replied, after a long pause. “I couldn’t do that.”

“We don’t know if we’re the kind of person that can pull the trigger until we try to pull the trigger. It would’ve been better if you’d never tried to find out, but at least we know you’re not.”

…and that had been that, or so Dana had thought. She was not sure that they forgave her, exactly, but whatever good will it had burned apparently still left her enough in the black to be counted a friend.

The only explanation Dana could think of, however, was that Lucca had subsequently re-considered their position; that the disapproval she had seen had never really faded, and had blossomed into contempt, or judgment.

The depth of the pain she felt as she arrived at this conclusion was unexpected; despite the geographical distance between the two, Lucca had become a more important part of her life than she’d realized.

Dana and Lucca had bounced off each other a number of times over the past few years. Dana had formally asked her out a time or two, and been rebuffed- Lucca told her they did not date, wouldn’t be in a relationship with anyone. Dana had asked why, of course, and Lucca had refused to answer; and she hadn’t pushed them on it.

She had taken it personally, at first, but over time had observed that, in fact, they never dated anyone. It did not seem to Dana that it was due to a lack of interest, and certainly not a lack of carnal desire. She thought Lucca was one of the loneliest people she knew, and it seemed to all be self-imposed, but Lucca had made it clear that the topic was not up for discussion. They never made it anyone else’s problem, either.

Despite, or perhaps because of this, Dana had not exaggerated when she had described Lucca as her best friend. They had supported her through loss and heartache, and likewise rejoiced in celebration with her when there were triumphs that called for it. Dana was regularly awed by Lucca’s confidence, and the way they were relentless in pursuit of their goals.

Lucca’s survivalism and skill were no the reason that they were the first person Dana called when she had needed help to rescue Valerie. In truth, it was because Dana couldn’t imagine facing something so hard without Lucca by her side.

Dana did not have many people she considered to be a friend, but her closeness with Lucca had always made up for that.

As the plane descended toward the runway, Dana was lost in spiraling thoughts of sadness and anger at herself; and her fear and certainty that she had ruined something she did not even realize that she needed— or wanted— to protect.

The hustle of deplaning, collecting her bag, and getting transport to her hotel kept her mind occupied enough that she did not fall further into despair. As she sat at the small desk in her hotel room trying, again, to revise the next day’s slide deck, a part of her began to wonder if leaving Valerie alone with Lucca was the wisest choice, after all; but regardless of what Lucca thought of her, she could not imagine that they would harm another person with that anger.