Lucky's (Mis)Fortune: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Whenever I did something wrong, I came to miss my mother. She knew how to reassure me or how to fix things. Now, I felt lost whenever I didn't know what to do, or what to say when someone was mad or upset with me, and honestly, I hadn't cared for years. But I work for these guys, and they didn't say a word the whole way to their house and even when we went inside. I walked to my room when I realized they would stay silent.

I lay on my bed, looking up at the ceiling I had gotten used to over the last month. It was still early to go to sleep, but with nothing else to do, I found that to be the best option. It was either that or drawing.

I light up at the thought, wanting to finish the drawing I had started earlier in the day.

It was dark now, but I could still see the outline of the details outside my window, the outside lights being on and all, so I decided to work with what I had. I took off my shoes and sat on my chair, comfortably crossing my legs on it.

Detail by detail, the picture came together. I smiled with each stroke, realizing that this one would come out at a satisfactory level. Even without the color, I was content with my skills.

I became distracted for a couple of minutes, perhaps an hour or more when I heard someone open the door, allowing some light besides my lamp to come inside the room.

"I thought you would be sleeping," I heard his scruffy voice say—Mr. Sawyer.

I heard his footsteps come towards me and stop right behind me. I turned around, having to look up at him. "What time is it?"

"Ten now," he responded.

Huh, I had been here since seven.

"Um, can I help you?" I asked, the awkward tension from earlier remaining.

I noticed that he was wearing pajamas—plaid pants and a plain black t-shirt. (Who would've thought he was a plaid type of guy?) It made me curious as to why he had decided to come here late at night, perhaps when he was already contemplating going to bed.

He sat on my bed, making himself at home, and I completely turned around to look at him. "I guess I... came to check in on you."

Butterflies went through the pit of my stomach as I blinked in shock. "Why? I'm okay. Shouldn't I be apologizing to you? Or shouldn't you be firing me or something?" I questioned in utter confusion.

He laughed. "I mean, it did hurt Aiden when you said that we weren't friends and all, but we understand you, honestly. You're right, we barely know each other, and we shouldn't expect you to feel like it's natural to have us around. What I came to tell you is that I hope one day you do get used to it and allow us to protect you."

"Why?" The question came out without meaning to. Because really, why did they want me to get used to it? Why are they insisting on protecting me so closely? I found it completely unnecessary.

He blinked. "Well... I guess you can say that we're beginning to care for you, Jordan." His soft grin made my heart burst because it told me how sincere he was.

Why? Why does it sound like he means that?

I stayed silent. I didn't know what to say except for asking why again, but I felt that to be too repetitive, so I thought that not saying anything would be the best route. I looked down at my hands and shuffled them around, moving my fingers against each other and such. A nervous habit. I shouldn't be this nervous.

"We want to be close to you, but we'll take things slow," he said. I didn't respond. "How about we start with dinner? You should eat dinner with us every night."

I paused for a second, then looked up at him.

"I don't understand why you want to get close to me. I don't understand why you are actually taking this whole protecting thing so seriously. And I don't understand why you treat me so differently compared to your other employees," I told him as calmly as possible, trying to put my thoughts in order. "Is it because you feel guilty? Because you don't have to. What happened that night was an absolute mishap that will never occur again because I will never get close to that world again."

"We don't want you to get hurt because of us," he explained.

"I- I get that, yes, but you can do that in other ways. I don't need to hang out with you guys for you to 'protect me,' and I don't need Leo to be driving me around. We don't need to be friends for you to complete your task because that's what keeping an eye on me is to you, right? A job. A task." I was trying to make both of us understand the jumble going on in my head because I truly couldn't comprehend their motives. I get it, they think they have to keep an eye on me, but wouldn't people like them get other people to do it? Wouldn't others be less caring? Aiden, I get; that's who he is, but still, it all feels like too much.

"Why is it that you care for me? You don't have to. I'm your employee."

He frowned. "Huh... I hadn't... really questioned that. It's just how the three of us feel."

"Three? Even Eliott?" I questioned in surprise.

"Even Eliott. Didn't you see the way he reacted when you left earlier? He looked insanely scared when you weren't in our sight and immediately ran after the way you had."

I hadn't expected that.

Although I still couldn't come to accept the fact that these seemingly random men care about me or whatever, I decided that maybe it was okay to take a step forward. Maybe it was okay. Maybe they wouldn't hurt me and they actually wanted to be close to me for a reason I still couldn't understand. "I'll... have dinner with you guys," I replied after a minute or so of silence.

He smiled widely. "Great, we would all appreciate that."

After a moment, Mr. Sawyer rose from the bed, his eyes softening as he looked at me. "I'm glad you'll join us," he said, his voice low and sincere. He lingered in the doorway for a second longer before turning to leave, his silhouette disappearing into the hallway as he gently closed the door behind him.

I sat back in my chair, staring at the almost-finished drawing in front of me. My thoughts were a tangled mess. What is it about these men that makes them care so much? It's not something I'm used to, and I'm not sure I like it. But then again, maybe a part of me does—enough to make me say yes to something as simple as dinner.

I picked up the pencil again, trying to focus on the drawing, but my mind kept drifting back to Mr. Sawyer's words. He, Aiden, and Eliott—all of them want to protect me. They want to be close. The idea feels foreign, like an ill-fitting coat, but not entirely unwelcome. I've been on my own for so long, it's hard to remember what it feels like to have someone care.

I sighed and made my way to bed after turning off the lamp on the desk.

Tomorrow, I'll sit down with them at dinner. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe... just maybe, I can learn to trust them, and I won't think about their intentions and just accept the care.

Maybe.

KHAEL SAWYER

Why did I have a huge urge to kiss Jordan's forehead as I stood by his door? Why did I want him to ask me to stay and not leave him alone?

He wasn't the only one with questions anymore, and I wondered if Eliott and Aiden felt the same way. Perhaps we all had the same feelings, the same reason why we wanted to protect him, why the thought of Jordan getting hurt again felt unbearable.

I walked into our room and saw the two cuddling in bed, Aiden half-asleep and Eliott frowning at his phone. I took Aiden's left side, and as I put the blanket on top of me, Aiden's eyes turned to me.

"How was it?" he asked.

"He agreed to have dinner with us," I said simply. "And he's not mad or upset with us... and he had some good points to make."

"Like?" Eliott intervened.

"He questions why we care so much about protecting him."

"We have to; we made a promise. He can't get hurt for our sake once again," he said, turning to look at me with a frown.

I leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "Are you sure that's all?" I looked down at Aiden; he didn't look too sure. "We could've assigned someone else to look after him, we didn't have to invite him to come out with us, and we most certainly didn't have to offer the rooms in our house for his entertainment. We didn't have to invite him to have dinner with us from now on."

The more I listed things, the more I understood Jordan. What we did to make him feel better wasn't something we actually had to do, they weren't things we normally did, and he saw that.

We all remained silent, but I think we now understand ourselves, our mutual feelings.

I think we all fell asleep thinking about him.