Season 6
Brooke and Lucas
Rating: R
Chapter One
The door was open…
“Hello.” He called.
No response.
“Hello? Brooke?” He looked around it was completely deserted, it wasn't like Brooke, she was often at the counter, sketching a new design. He had just gotten back from Vegas with Peyton where they were supposed to get married but didn’t, he smiled to himself, he could only imagine what Brooke would say, “Lucas Scott you almost-nearly got married in Vegas… and you don’t invite me.”
She was the only one who wouldn’t judge, I mean he loved Haley but sometimes he needed a friendly ear and not a mother’s a wagging tongue, he knew Haley couldn’t help it, in a way she was had always been like that even before Jamie.
“Brooke!” He called out again.
He walked into the kitchen area, no-one was around, he grabbed the pint of milk and took a swig.
“God!” He exclaimed, spitting out the milk, checking the date, this was two weeks go off. That was odd, it wasn’t like Brooke. He looked further in the fridge, he picked up what looked like the remains of a two week old lasagne, almost everything was passed it sell by date.
“Brooke.” He called again. Nothing could have happened he was just overreacting, if there had been a burglary the place would be a mess and Brooke would have called him.
He heard a noise.
He walked towards Brooke’s bedroom. “Brooke Davis, I hope you’re decent.” He peaked his head round the door just like he had done 6 years ago.
“Brooke?” He whispered.
She lay there on the bed, in her underwear, battered and bruised, he looked her up and down, she hardly even noticed his presence. Black bruises swelled over her lower body, her mid drift dark pink and swollen, god and her face her cheek was both colors of black and purple gliding together. The saying beaten black and blue was literal here.
He rushed over to her bedside.
“Brooke.” He whispered.
“What happened?” He said purposefully
She looked straight through him as if he weren’t there “I wouldn’t be so sure decent was the right word.”
“Who did this to you?!” Lucas’s blue eyes were gleaming with rage. “Who did this to you?” He repeated angrily. The thought of someone her hurting, laying a hand on her made him sick and that sickness made him wanna break the neck of whoever did that to her.
Brooke complacently got off her bed and proceeded to the mirror. Lucas still sitting at the foot of her bed clenched his fists. “Was it Owen? Did he do this?”
He heard Brooke laugh dryly. “No it wasn’t Owen.” She said mockingly.
He chose to ignore it, passing it off for fear, “Who did this?” He persisted standing behind Brooke.
She turned around and said coldy, “Why would you care?”
He looked like he’d just been winded. “Brooke? What?” He tried to get out. He didn’t understand.
“You heard,” She said callously “Why would you, care?” She said slowly.
“Of course I care.” He said slowly placing his hand on her face and flinching at how much pain she must be in.
She cringed and he instanly moved his hand away. “How was your vacation, no, no, your honeymoon.” She said dryly.
“That doesn’t matter, it's not important. What happened to you?”
“That’s a first.” She looked at him with such hate, so much disgust, she’d never looked at him like that before, never. He felt a shiver go down his spine.
“Brooke, just tell me who did this to you, please.” He pleaded.
“You.”
More to come....
