38. Nyah
NYAH
Dear Diary,
He paid for my freedom with his body. I don’t know how to live with that.
Days passed in a blur of painkillers, bandage changes, and sleeping too much because it was better than facing the reality that I was marrying a monster in a matter of weeks. I’d thought I’d known evil. I’d grown up surrounded by bad people.
And yet I’d been wrong. I’d never seen anything like the look in Carlos’s eyes when he’d burned my skin and locked me in a cage. For maybe the first time, I realized exactly what he was truly capable of.
And how the women he trafficked must feel.
Small. Helpless. Weak.
I felt all those things. And hated every one of them.
So on the third day, I forced myself out of bed. I stood in the bathroom, peeled off the bandage, and stared at the mess Carlos had made of my chest. This was who I was now, in flesh, even if not in name. Nyah fucking Guerra.
Just great.
The burn was healing. The doctor Luca had sent to me had prescribed something for the pain, and Virginia had diligently made sure I took every single one, fussing around me like a mother hen, bringing me food and drinks, and never once chastising me for lying in bed like my own mother would have.
I could practically hear my mother’s complaints. “Stop being so lazy, Nyah. You have a fiancé to please now. He’s not going to want you lying about in bed with your hair as messy as a bird’s nest.”
I wondered if she’d even tried to see me since I’d been banished here. Seemed doubtful, or Virginia surely would have told me. They would be at the wedding, I was sure. They would want everyone to see the Matish family joining with the Guerras.
But until then, until it benefited them, I clearly wasn’t a concern, despite the fact they’d delivered me to the devil’s lair.
A commotion in the hallway had me pulling my robe across my chest and belting it tight, like that might keep out the prying eyes of the men outside my door.
It was early, too early for Lynx to be here, and Luca was still off wherever he was, probably spending cash on new suits or expensive drinks.
I hadn’t seen him since the night he’d brought me up here, patched me up, gave me some painkillers, then told me he was going away for a few days.
Lucky him.
Shouts came from outside the door, and I poked my head out.
My gaze slammed into Luca’s.
Viktor and Bruno dragged him along the hallway, his feet trailing behind him, too weak to even stand. He was naked, but I barely noticed that because he was covered in cuts and bruises and dried blood. Dirt and grime stuck to his sallow skin.
I covered a gasp, but he heard it, his eyes following me as they carried him past my room and into his.
Without even thinking about it, I followed. “What the hell happened to him?”
He looked like he’d been beaten and tortured for days.
“Go to your room, Miss Matish,” Bruno barked at me.
“I absolutely will not. What the hell have you done to him?”
The two guards didn’t even bother putting him on his bed. They dropped him on the floor just inside his room and turned around, the two of them facing me.
They were both twice my size in width, and they towered over me in height. Guns and knives were holstered at their hips, and they wore identical scowls, designed to be intimidating.
But in that moment, I wasn’t scared of either. “Let me see him.”
Viktor glanced at his brother.
He shrugged. “Mr. Guerra just said to put him in his room. He never said he couldn’t have visitors.”
“And I don’t care what Mr. Guerra said. I said let me see him.” I glared at them until they shrugged and walked out, shutting the door behind them.
I dropped to my knees, hands hovering over Luca crumpled on the floor. “Shit, Luca! What did they do to you?” I asked again, since nobody had answered my first question.
He rolled onto his back with a groan. “They did nothing. My father and uncle, however…”
I gasped. “Your own family did this to you?”
He laughed, though it was weak and dry-sounding. “Why are you surprised? Haven’t you worked out how it is around here? Every man for himself. Last names don’t matter much. No loyalty between thieves and all that.”
He clutched his side and groaned again. “Hey, I know we aren’t exactly friends, but could I ask one favor?”
I nodded quickly, horrified by the mess of cuts and bruises on his body. “Of course.”
“Could you get me a drink, please? I haven’t had any water in probably two days.”
I gaped at him, then scrambled to my feet, rushing into the bathroom and grabbing the glass Virginia always left fresh on each bathroom counter.
I hastily filled it with water from the faucet and then hurried back to Luca’s side, not caring that I sloshed liquid over the rim and that it dripped down my hand and onto the carpet.
I knelt back at his side and held it to his lips.
He stared up at me. “As much as I like you taking care of me, your hand is shaking so much I’m a bit scared you’re going to drown me. Let me sit up.”
“Shit, sorry. Here, let me help you.” I put the glass down and waited a beat, just to make sure it wasn’t going to spill on the carpet, and when it didn’t, I offered Luca my hand.
To my surprise, he took it. I helped pull him up then tried again with the glass, this time offering it to him to hold rather than putting it to his lips.
That worked better, and he greedily swallowed water until he coughed and spluttered.
I took the glass from him. “Go slowly. You’re going to choke.”
He shook his head, trying to get the glass back from me with weak fingers. “More.”
“In a minute.”
He slumped back against the bed. “You’re bossy.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather you didn’t aspirate water into your lungs. I can’t fix that with a first aid kit.”
“No,” he admitted. “But if you pass me a blanket, you can fix the fact I’m still naked.”
“Shit, sorry.” I honestly hadn’t even realized.
The state of him was all I could see. I grabbed a throw blanket from the end of his bed and dropped it over his lap, giving him a bit of privacy.
For the first time, I noticed the goosebumps on his flesh, and I stood, went into his closet, and searched it for something warm.
“Jesus, Luca. Do you literally own nothing but suits? Nobody needs this many pairs of Italian leather shoes either, for the record. It’s just wasteful.
Do you not have a hoodie in here somewhere? ”
“Right in the back.”
I pushed my way past his suit collection that probably cost as much as a regular person’s car, and finally found his sweats, tucked away neatly on a shelf.
I grabbed an oversized gray one that was soft and hopefully comfy and then brought it back to him, tugging it down over his head for him because he seemed too weak to even do that himself.
His head poked through the hole. “Okay, I have clothes on. Can I have more water now?”
I picked it up for him. “You could say please, you know.”
“Please,” he said quietly.
I held it to his lips again, this time, without the tremble in my hand.
He drank it slower, and when he’d had enough, he moved his mouth away and dropped his head back so it rested on the mattress.
I ran my teeth over my bottom lip, before popping it free. “When you said you were going away for a few days, I thought…”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t go far.”
I swallowed hard. “Luca. Why…”
It was all I could get out, because I was almost positive I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to, princess.”
But I did. I needed to know if my suspicions were true. “Because of me, right? They did this to you because you helped me?”
His gaze caught mine, his dark-brown eyes dull in a way I’d never seen before.
“I took the punishment you were supposed to receive. Three days down there.” His gaze dropped to my chest, where my robe had loosened enough to show off my bandage.
“How’s the burn? Did the doctor come to you like I asked him to? ”
I nodded. “I’m fine. But you…”
If this was what Carlos and Enzo had planned to do to me, I don’t know that I would have survived it. I’d been half delirious with pain and freezing with the cold after less than twenty-four hours.
Luca had done three days down there, alone, in the dark, with nobody but Enzo and Carlos torturing him for company.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered to him.
“I know. I didn’t want you to know. There was nothing you could have done. If you’d tried to help me, they would have just put you back in there right next to me. Or worse, someone you cared about.”
“You knew that you would be punished for helping me, didn’t you?”
He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Why would you do that then?”
He shrugged. “Call it temporary insanity. Or maybe I just get off on pain. Hey, for all you know, I enjoyed everything I got down there.”
But nobody enjoyed this sort of torture. He had blood in places nobody should have blood, and his nails were ragged, like he’d been clawing them against something.
“Luca,” I said softly.
He quieted. “It’s not a big deal.”
Except it was to me.
I leaned in and pressed my lips on his.
He winced in pain and jerked away.
I blinked in surprise both at his rejection and at the fact I’d kissed him in the first place. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I—”
He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard.
Feeling swelled inside me. Relief and gratitude for this man who’d endured something awful, and all for a woman he claimed he didn’t like or trust. I cupped his face, holding him to me, our lips moving together for the briefest of moments before he pulled away.
He groaned and tipped his head back again, staring at the ceiling.
“What is it?” My hands hovered over him, not wanting to touch him again for fear of hurting him. There didn’t seem to be a single spot on his body that wasn’t covered in a cut or a graze or a bruise. “Did I hurt you again?”
“No.” The hint of a smile flickered over his lips. “I just really wanted to slip you some tongue, but my mouth probably tastes like an ashtray.”
I slapped his arm, not caring this time if I hurt him.
He laughed weakly, then winced, settling back again and sighing heavily. Any jokes disintegrated in the air around us.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I don’t know why you did that for me. But thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
We didn’t discuss the kiss. We both knew it had happened out of gratitude, and it didn’t mean anything. My brain shouted warnings, that he could still be trying to set me up.
But my gut already knew that he wouldn’t. That a man who took a three-day punishment for me wasn’t suddenly going to tell his father I’d kissed him.
Or that he’d kissed me back.
Luca looked at me. “Well, I’m going to crawl my way into the shower. So unless you want to see me naked again, I suggest you maybe go back to your own room now.”
I hesitated.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you not leaving because you do want to see me naked again, princess?”
I rolled my eyes. “More like because I’m scared you’re going to pass out and die before you get there, and our rooms share a wall so the stench of your rotting corpse will probably permeate through the drywall pretty quick.”
He snorted. “Right. I’ll attempt not to die then.”
I grinned. “That’d be good of you.”
“Bye, Nyah.”
“Bye, Luca.”
I stood and left him, even though everything inside me screamed to stay and help. But it was clear he didn’t want it. That he needed to do this part himself.
I went downstairs and in quiet whispers told Virginia what had happened in Luca’s bedroom.
Well, told her everything except the fact we’d kissed.
Her eyes widened and then filled with tears and she immediately started putting together a tray of food. All easily swallowable, high-nutrient things like the leftover soup she’d made for me when she’d found me lying in my bed, almost completely unresponsive a few nights earlier.
I left her to take them to his room, and then I went back to mine, got in the shower, and cried for the man who’d so selflessly put himself on the line for me. For the man I’d kissed. And for the man I had clearly judged so wrongly.