Page 10 of You Belong With Me

And Lucas is many things, butsafeisn’t one of them. Not for me.

The morning is cool, the wind blowing gently as we pick a spot and sit down next to each other on the sand. We sit there like that for a while, quietly, just looking out at the crashing waves—trying to absorb everything that’s happened. The air is briny, and I pull it into my lungs, allowing it to calm me.

I glance over at Lucas, who looks lost in thought. He has his knees pulled up, his arms resting on them, hands clasped. “So, um, how are you feeling about all this?”

My voice pulls him out of whatever daze he’s in, and he turns his head to look at me. “I, um…” He pushes out a breath. “I can’t believe he’s here. I can’t believe it’s real. There’s a part of me that’s scared this is all just a really vivid dream.”

“So, uh…you didn’t know about this?” That seems obvious given his reaction, but there’s so much that still doesn’t make sense. I found all the stalker’s clothes in Lucas’ closet—which would mean he’s been helping Gabriel this whole time. As I suspected, by the way.

His brows pinch together like he’s offended by my question. “You saw him just now. He doesn’t even know who the fuck I am.” There’s an edge of pain in his voice that softens something inside me. “How could I be helping him?”

Just a couple of months ago, Gabriel was his best friend—and now he doesn’t even know who Lucas is. That’s got to hurt. We like to think our deepest relationships can withstand anything, even something like memory loss. But that’s not always the reality, and that sucks.

I’m itching to ask Lucas about all the stalker shit I found in his closet last night, but he’s reeling right now, and I can already tell he’s close to losing it. That’s not a great recipe for truthfulness–and that’s what I want. The truth.

Butnotasking is so damn hard. I have so many questions. Was Lucas my stalker? Was Gabriel my stalker with Lucas just helping him? Were both Lucas and Gabriel stalking me independently? Were they tag-teaming it?Ugh.

Swallowing back all my questions, I nod. “What do you think happened? I mean, someone died that night. There was a body on those tracks with Gabriel’s wallet and phone.”

He tears his gaze away from me, so he can look back at the ocean. “I have no fucking clue.”

Do I believe him, though? I get the sense he’s not telling me something…but I’m a serial over-analyzer, so it could be that. Or it could be my gut telling me that nothing is as it seems around here.

I lean back on the palms of my hands. “So what does this mean forus?”

Not that there is anus, but he did make me his consort last night, and that’s a big deal in our world. Maybe with Gabriel showing up, Lucas can just…choose someone else to be his consort? That would be the most obvious solution. Why does that thought make me want to puke, though? Like,why?

Ugh,I’m so damn confused. I never asked to be his consort. I didn’t want it. I fought tooth and nail against it, but…also the thought of him picking some other chick makes me feel angry and anxious.

Lucas looks down at me, his expression blank. “Technically, you belong to Gabriel,” he says flatly. “He claimed you over a year ago.”

He’s referring to a random society rule that’s barely used nowadays. According to the bylaws, any male member of the Burning Crown can lay claim to a Deb by simply announcing his intention at an official event. If there’s no objection by the girl, or anyone else, then it’s a done deal. That’s it. It’s like the Preference Ceremony but for the common folk. It’s more chill, and less ceremonial, but just as binding.

And the only way out for the Deb is if the guy “releases” her…or dies, or in extreme situations, a tribunal can be called. The rule is so unbelievably restrictive and barbaric that no one ever uses it.

Except Gabriel did. Kinda.

A few days after we started dating, he announced his “claim” on me at a Burning Crown event. But it was a joke. Everyone—including me—was laughing. He was making fun of the ridiculousness of it.

“You and I both know Gabriel never really claimed me,” I say. “It was a joke.”

“Oh, he claimed you, Wyn,” Lucas says. “And he knew what he was doing. He made it seem like a joke, so you wouldn’t object. I know how his brain works. But the reality is, he announced his intention at an official event, in front of everyone.” He pauses. “An event I just happened to arrive late to. Do you think that was a coincidence?”

I press my lips together and shake my head. He’s not seriously going to hold me to a century-old rule, is he?

“You saw Gabriel back there.” He looks back at the ocean like the weight of what he’s about to say is too much. “There’s no way he’ll release you, Wyn.”

I shake my head. This is unbelievable. “So, what, you’re just going to choose another consort, then? Or go crawling back to Ava? I hope she tells you to go fuck yourself.”

I know she won’t, though. No sane girl would reject what Lucas has to offer. Except for me, I guess. But I’ve never said I was sane.

His white shirt is pulled tight against his back, and I can see his muscles tense. He lifts his chin, and a tic starts in his jaw. My question clearly makes him uncomfortable. I doubt he’s even thought about the whole consort thing or what that means with Gabriel coming back.

“You’re my consort until I select someone else,” he says quietly, his voice hardly rising above the sound of the crashing waves. “Until then, you’ll hold the position in title only.”

In title only. Translation: Lucas will go back to ignoring me.

Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse—being Lucas’ sole obsession, or not existing in his world at all.

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