Chapter 34

Valerie woke with a start; she had dreamed again of the inside of a car trunk, of darkness and fear and the certainty of her own eventual destruction, if not death.

The soothing warmth of a body was pressed against her back; arms cradled her gently, one beneath her neck and the other curled around her waist. Dana— she knew the woman’s embrace by feel.

She and Lucca had left the house the evening before for dinner, leaving Dana to shower after her trip, and tend to her own self care. When they returned, Dana was wrapped in a towel with her hair still damp, asleep on top of the bed covers. Lucca had helped Valerie maneuver her under the covers; and then the two of them had finally made good on the idea of watching a movie together.

Valerie was surprised to learn that Lucca enjoyed musicals.

Afterward, Lucca had moved their things into one of the guest bedrooms. They directed Valerie to sleep wherever she wished, and she chose to slip quietly into Dana’s bed; naked, but for the ever-present collar and her new jewelry, as she knew Dana preferred.

At some time during the night, Dana had shed the towel and wrapped herself around Valerie— their usual way of sharing a bed.

When Valerie awoke from her nightmare, and she felt Dana’s arms holding her safe, she cried bittersweet tears; for the joy of those arms’ comfort and familiarity, and the knowledge that the comfort was a temporary phase in her life. The words she had exchanged with Lucca two days prior bothered at her like an aching tooth.

This is for her, not for you.

She drifted back to sleep.

Valerie woke more fully later; sunlight barely filtered in through the dimmed bedroom windows. The bedroom’s indirect lights suffused the room with the barest warm glow, and rain sounds whispered out of the speakers. Valerie was reminded of the first night she had spent in Dana’s home, and the sense of wonder, promise, and disbelief she had felt. Those feelings had dimmed as her life settled into routine, strange as it was.

Lucca’s arrival in her life over the past few days had brought Valerie fear and pain instead of wonder or promise. It was not the overwhelming bone-deep terror she had felt, trapped in a stranger’s car trunk hurtling down the highway, but an anxiousness that was, somehow, simultaneously gentler and softer. Valerie had all but begged Lucca to break her, and Lucca had assented; she thought the last scene they shared was only the beginning, and imagining what they might do with her — to her — over the coming weeks and months left her dizzy.

She was not afraid that Lucca would truly harm her — not now, after the time they had spent together and the words they had shared — but she was nevertheless frightened of learning the lessons that she had asked Lucca to teach her.

Valerie slipped out of the bed and into a quiet house. Her head felt dull from too much sleep; a rarity. Even though Valerie had no daily responsibilities, Dana generally kept rigidly fixed hours, and expected Valerie to adhere to the same. Although she was rarely exhausted, Valerie was more accustomed to being slightly sleep-deprived than she was to being over-rested.

She rinsed the crust of sleep from her eyes and cleansed her face. The steel ring dangling from her septum ached, and she whimpered aloud when she nudged it too vigorously while she scrubbed her skin clean. She gently cleaned the new jewelry, as Lucca had instructed her.

Valerie padded out into the kitchen, feeling clean and just barely starting to feel awake; there was no sign of Lucca or Dana. She supposed the two had gone to get coffee, again, and talk; she presumed about her.

A part of her, dreamy and only half-awake, wondered if she had imagined them; it was absurd, surrounded as she was by evidence of their existence. She considered it might all be a strange dream, and she would soon awake to a death-black car trunk; or in her old bed, late for work; or perhaps worst of all, lying next to Heather.

She shook off the strange reverie, resolving that even if this was a dream, she would nevertheless benefit from caffeine and breakfast. The fridge still held leftover pizza, from Lucca’s interview session with her; but after literal minutes spent staring at the box and thinking of the grease and congealed cheese, she opted for cold cereal and oat milk.

She wished she could indulge her caffeine addiction with a cup of coffee, but she had no clue how to operate Dana’s complicated espresso setup, and had so far been too embarrassed to broach the subject of learning it. She settled for black tea; she was sure it was an incredibly high quality blend, but tea had never been her thing. With enough sugar and more of the oat milk, it was nearly pleasant. More importantly, she knew how to prepare it.

Valerie set about tidying up the house; Lucca was not the neatest houseguest, and while Valerie, on her own, was fairly messy— Dana had given her responsibilities, and it was something to do, and she begrudgingly admitted that it felt good to accomplish a task.

Dana and Lucca sat side by side at a picnic table, looking out over one of the smaller artificial reservoirs that dotted the hills near Berkeley. The sun was only just peeking over the mountain to the east, and there was still a chill in the area; but without the cooling fog off the bay, it would warm quickly enough.

Dana wrapped her hands around a large cup of cheap gas station coffee to ward off the morning chill. She took a sip, and grimaced. It was not her first sip, nor her first grimace; it was not good, but it was still coffee. Lucca occasionally sipped from a glass water bottle they had brought along with them. The engine of their blue mercedes ticked as it cooled a dozen feet behind where they sat.

“You can’t do what you’re doing, Dana. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

Lucca restrained themself from growling.

“Don’t. It’s not consent and you know it.”

“I didn’t force her to sign the contract. She can leave whenever she wants.”

“Leave? And go where? You’ve seen her finances. Debt up to her eyeballs, and that was when she at least had an apartment.”

“…I paid off her debts.”

Dana’s words were a muttered retort, and Lucca did not look mollified.

“Did you tell her that?”

Dana’s silence was answer enough.

“Keep the contract, if you want. Goddess knows it’s a big enough carrot.”

Lucca stood up brusquely and stepped in front of Dana. She looked up at them; grumpy, if not sullen. She took another sip from her coffee, and grimaced; but didn’t reply.

“I’m serious,” Lucca said. “I won’t let this continue.”

“Okay.” Dana sighed. She slumped on the bench, staring at the sandy clay beneath her feet. “Okay. Heard.”

“Specifically?”

“I’ll… tell her about the debts.”

“And?”

“And if she leaves, I’ll make sure she isn’t homeless.”

“And you’ll tell her that, too.”

“I will.”

“Good girl.”

Dana shot them a poisonous glare, but it was not without affection. Lucca folded their arms, unable to keep a slightly smug look off their face. Dana sighed, and looked away.

“I… I’m sorry, Lucca. I got carried away. The last few weeks have been…” She trailed off, struggling to find words to capture how much of a dream come true it had been, at least before Lucca had brought their pragmatism to bear on the situation. She felt guilty, now; deeply so. She could not unmake the decisions — the mistakes — she had made, and she feared the damage she had done to her relationship with Lucca was irreparable.

“You could really help her, you know. She’s six different kinds of trauma wrapped up in a trench coat. That girl has waded through hell to get where she is.”

“You sound like you admire her. A few days ago I wasn’t entirely sure she’d be alive after you were done with her.”

Lucca frowned and opened their mouth to speak; Dana lifted a hand to forestall their response.

“I’m exaggerating. You know what I mean,” she said.

Lucca pressed their lips together and stared at Dana for a moment before responding.

“Okay. Yeah. I know. I got to know her. She’s special, Dana. Do you know how smart she is? Did you ever see her work?”

Dana shook her head, lifting her gaze to look out over the rippling water.

“She needs therapy,” Lucca continued.

“Yeah… yeah. Yeah. You’re probably right about that.”

“And transition care.”

Dana looked up at Lucca, tilting her head to the side.

“You’re sitting on more money than you have the sense to do anything with and she’s shaving her face every morning while trying not to look at herself in the mirror. Also, get the girl some fucking books to read or something.”

“Do you think she’d also like a pony?”

“Dana.”

“Okay. Okay. Do you want to be there when I talk to her or do you trust me to do better?” Her tone was carefully neutral. It was an honest question.

Lucca stared at her a long time before answering. Dana pushed down her indignation that they didn’t see it as an easy question. She supposed, ultimately, they had a point.

“Don’t let me down, girl.”