Page 4 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

FOUR

Did I make the fastest lunch ever? Well, I’m not familiar with any Guinness World Records, but slapping cold cuts on some bread, a handful of salad from a bag, a squirt of Luke’s favorite honey-mustard sauce took all of two seconds.

Was I trying to eavesdrop?

Maybe.

Okay, so, yes.

I could tell myself I wanted to hear him tell her what he wouldn’t tell me. What he was feeling, what he wouldn’t or couldn’t admit. But what really bothered me was that he’d tell her.

And not me.

I understood they’d been together and shared an intimacy that didn’t include me. I understood he had a life outside of me. Not everything had to involve me.

He had every right to his secrets. Rationally, my brain knew that.

But this was Luke.

My Luke.

We’d been through everything together. From high school to the peak of fame and fortune. Extreme highs, devastating lows. We grew up together to the point where our parents were great friends. We were inseparable, even within Atrous. We were never apart. We shared everything.

But the last few months, something changed with him.

I noticed it. Everyone did. But then Luke would flash his smile and say he was fine.

But he wasn’t.

These last few weeks, he’d withdrawn from me—which, in hindsight, was a red flag—and then I had to go on that stupid week thing with Bec and her friends.

I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have left him. He was hurting and I hated that he wouldn’t tell me what was eating at him.

This wasn’t like him. This wasn’t like us.

So if he wouldn’t tell me, then maybe he’d tell Vana.

That was why I was listening.

So I could help him.

I needed to help him.

I stood by the door, tray in hand. I’d honestly hoped to hear his side of the conversation. That was all I’d wanted. But he had the call on speaker.

I had to wonder if it was so he could pace while he talked, or wring his hands or pull at his hair like he did whenever he was stressed.

“Thanks for calling me back. I wasn’t sure you’d get my message. I know you’re busy,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how things ended. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.”

“Luke,” Vana said softly.

“You deserve someone who’ll be there for you,” he replied.

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” she said. “Hard to say I was surprised when you’d always been in love with someone else.”

There was silence. “What? ”

“Look, I’m on a schedule,” she said. There were muffled voices in the background, and I could easily picture her in the dance rehearsal studio. “I’m sorry for how things ended too. For what it’s worth, I appreciate you calling. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Luke.”

More silence.

“You need to figure yourself out before it kills you,” she said gently. “You need to tell him.”

There was another beat of silence before Luke stammered. “That’s not... that’s... Vana, it’s not like that. I’m not...” He let out a frustrated sound. “That’s not what it is.”

“It’s okay, Luke,” she said. “You know it is. I really have to go. Take care.”

Then there was more silence, followed by what sounded like Luke throwing his phone.

While I stood there, dumbfounded.

He was in love with someone else?

He needed to tell him?

Him?

Who the fuck was she talking about?

Then, with the best or worst timing ever, my phone buzzed with a call in my pocket.

It startled me so much, I stepped into the barn, walking in as if I’d just crossed the yard from my cabin.

Luke was standing by the studio door, looking pale and startled.

I fished my phone from my pocket and saw Maddox’s name. I hit Answer. “Hey.”

“Hey, wassup?”

“Perfect timing,” I said. “I just walked into the barn.” I put the tray on the coffee table and tried to act as normal as possible. “Luke, sandwich,” I said, nodding to the food. I sat on the sofa and sighed. “Maddox, my second favorite dickbag.”

I said his name more for Luke’s benefit than Maddox’s.

Luke tried to smile as he walked over and picked up his sandwich. He gave me a nod of thanks before he took a small bite .

“Hey, so Roscoe and I can come up tomorrow. Does that suit you guys?”

I looked at Luke. “Maddox and Roscoe can come up tomorrow. That cool with you?”

He gave me a half nod, half shrug that I took as a yes. “Sure. But Luke said to bring beer and steak.”

Maddox laughed. “He did fucking not, but whatever. See you then.”

I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch. “I know Madz got the cell booster thing for Wes when he had the kid, but it was kinda easier when we weren’t reachable here.”

Luke almost smiled as he chewed. “Agreed.”

“How’d the call with Vana go?”

He made a face—a storm of regret and a darkness in his eyes. “As expected.”

“Feel better now that you’ve spoken to her, though?”

He shook his head and let out a noise that told me the opposite was true.

Fuck.

I took a bite of my sandwich and spoke with my mouth full. “Want me to toss the cell booster into the firepit? No more phone calls.”

That made him almost smile, a little, at least.

I took that for a win.

A small win, but a win, nonetheless.

“So,” he hedged. “Maddox and Roscoe tomorrow, huh?”

“Yep.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “He messaged me, I think... I didn’t reply. Probably gonna get reamed for that.”

“Nah,” I said, waving that off. “He is worried about you though.”

That seemed to annoy him. “I don’t need...” He frowned and growled in frustration. When he spoke again, it had less bite. “I don’t mean to make anyone worry. That’s not what... I mean, I’m fine. Just stuck in my head a lot lately.”

“That’s okay, Luke,” I offered gently. “It’s completely normal to need a breather every so often.”

“Please don’t give me the mental health spiel.” He groaned. “And please tell me that’s not what Maddox is coming here for.”

“Dude.”

Now he was annoyed. “I get it. It’s important. It helped him.”

“It saved his life, Luke.”

“I know, I know.” He deflated some. “But that’s not what this is.”

My gaze cut to his. I was glad he was finally telling me something, but I didn’t buy that for a minute. Because if it wasn’t anything to do with mental health— even when he admitted to being all up in his head—then what the hell was it?

“Look,” I said. “Maddox and Roscoe are coming up here because they care about you. I care about you.” He flinched at that, which was not a reaction I wanted to see.

“And if you don’t want to talk to me about anything—and that’s totally fine—then talk to Maddox.

He’ll understand better than most, I suppose. ”

His gaze darted to mine, defensive and annoyed, before he looked away. After a long moment of silence, it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, so I tapped his foot with mine.

“We’re in this Atrous shit for life, right?”

He sighed and, finally looking at me, gave the hint of a smile. “Right.”

“And look,” I added. Not really wanting to say this because he’d never wanted to hear about anything between me and his sister. “Becca and I?—”

He stood up. “I can’t. I can’t hear this, sorry.” He took both our plates, and with a pained look on his face, he backed away. “I’ll take these back. Thanks for the sandwich, I...” He winced and shook his head, turned around, and before I could say anything else, he was gone.

He’d never liked hearing about Bec and me, and I understood that. She was his sister, and it was weird for him. He’d sworn back in the beginning that he was fine with it, but he never was.

But everything seemed to be weird for him lately.

I could have followed him out and yelled at him to tell me what the fuck was wrong. But then he would’ve either yelled back at me, and it’d be a fight, or it’d make him pull away from me even more.

I didn’t know which of those would be worse.

I told myself to give him time.

It was a chickenshit way out, but I knew Luke. I knew him.

He’d tell me when he was ready.

And anyway, I’d brought him up here to the cabins so he could get away from the city, away from whatever was troubling him. Giving him some peace and quiet, and maybe even get him to reconnect with music.

Music had always been a comfort, a familiar and cathartic release for all of us. It wasn’t just a creative outlet or a means to make money. We made music. Atrous wrote musical scores and lyrics. We poured our hearts and souls into each and every song.

And I was joking when I’d said that music was our therapy, but it was. Not just for Maddox, but for all of us.

Music was where it all began for us.

I figured if Luke heard me playing his guitar, he’d come back in eventually.

He wouldn’t be able to help himself. It’d pull him back like the pied piper, and maybe it was a low blow, but I didn’t know how else to reach him.

Music was a language for us that needed no words .

And I wasn’t wrong. Ten minutes later, he came back into the barn, sheepish, sorry maybe, and a bit embarrassed.

But he sat at his keyboard and joined in, and soon enough we were playing, jamming away, only stopping every so often for him to write notes down in his notepad and record a few bars.

It was like the old days again.

He even smiled and laughed. Smiling like he used to, with those creases at the corners of his eyes that made him look eighteen again, before everything began to weigh him down.

Well, he’d smile until he seemed to catch himself being happy, and it’d die right there on his face, replaced with a smile I didn’t recognize.

A smile that hurt to see.

Hollow, forced, and pretend.

Not my Luke’s smile.

My Luke.

In the end, I was reluctant to admit I was hungry and getting cold. I didn’t want to ruin our afternoon of any progress I’d made, no matter how flimsy it might have been. Even if we hadn’t talked about what was wrong.