Page 120 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

I suddenly felt about a thousand years old.

“Thanks for getting my Luca home safe,” Mom said simply, her words earnest and kind.

My jaw dropped as I watched a furious flush burn across Prudence’s face in response.

“It was my pleasure.”

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck!

He nodded, and smiled.

Smiled!

I reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, and to my surprise, he squeezed back.

Luca’s family was…strange. They smiled at each other often. And every time they did, they meant it. Their laughter was never mean. Never condescending. It was genuine. Affectionate. Conversation flowed easily. His mother was constantly asking him questions, then complimenting him—no matter what he said. No matter how inane, stupid, or obviously a lie. The praise was unending. I had never seen anything like it.

Mom: What’s your favorite food nowadays, baby?

Luca: Fruit Loops?

Mom: Well that’s just a fine choice. Isn’t it, Paul?

Paul: Sure is!

Luca’s relationship with his siblings was at least more recognizable, though their easy camaraderie was still unfamiliar as hell. At dinner they picked on each other, but it was all good-natured. Adam—the youngest—was a giant of a kid, all gnarly pointy elbows, and bird-like nose. He was also grumpy as hell, which made me immediately like him. Luca had been so concerned that he’d let his siblings down, but looking at the way they interacted, there was no indication at all that they resented him for his part in their fucked up childhood.

Betty—the sister—was silent for the most part during dinner, though every so often she’d quietly inject vitriol into the conversation, only for everyone to laugh—and move on, like she’d been joking. Even though she clearly hadn’t been. She was smaller than both her brothers, petite in both width and height, and she wore ridiculously massive black band t-shirts that drowned her frame, and a studded black choker around her neck. Somehow, despite their differences, she still seemed to fit seamlessly within the family dynamic.

Both siblings had the same dirty-blond hair their mother had. The same exact shade I’d seen hinted in the picture of teenage Luca I coveted.

Throughout all of this I stayed silent as much as I could, only speaking when spoken to, overwhelmed and shocked by how…happy and well-adjusted everyone seemed.

Luca was the black sheep by choice.

In a way, he had a shield up here—with his family. There was a guardedness to him that I had hardly seen before. He became gas station Luca. Club Luca. Thief Luca. Falling easily into the charismatic persona he had created to survive even the most dire of circumstances.

How was it possible that he could have a family as obviously loving and accepting as this, and yet still worry what they would think if he showed his true face?

He looked healthier now that he’d showered and all his cuts and bruises had been properly treated. His exhaustion was still apparent however as he sat at the dining room table and hid behind his grin. At least that wasn’t fake. Despite his obvious personal issues, he was still happy to be here. Still happy to be surrounded by family, by laughter.

His stolen picture burned a hole in my back pocket, and I wondered, distantly, if his parents would ever know what he’d done. If any of them would ever really know him, at all. His easy acceptance of crime. His double-sided personality. Kindness, and cruelty hand in hand.

Looking around the table, I finally began to understand him. The way he was willing to give up everything to protect this, even himself. I could see why the thought of disappointing them, of hurting these people—was devastating to him. But if they were so important, then…why had he moved so far away?

I couldn’t imagine wanting to leave a family like this.

It was like Amanda all over again, even though thinking that felt disloyal.

Over the course of dinner Luca’s eyes met mine what felt like a thousand times. I learned something new with every glance. When his attention was on me, my belly filled with butterflies and my breath would stutter to a stop in my chest. Confusing. He was confusing. Overwhelming. Perfect. His fingers brushed my arm when he turned to include me in the conversation, an invitation into his family’s inner circle, a secret hidden within his smile each time he caught me looking back.

Without meaning to, I’d begun collecting his smiles.

When he’d told me about his art block and the radio had blared and startled me.

When he’d teased me with his plan to pick-pocket unsuspecting club-goers.

---