Chapter 20
TWENTY
LUCIE
“I’m healed. Look,” I tell Toma as I grit my teeth not to flinch and take a few steps across the living room.
Arms crossed over his chest, he raises a brow, utterly unconvinced.
But I’m not leaving Loch Lomond without being chased and fucked on the forest floor. Not after the taste I got two days ago.
Yesterday, my ankle was still swollen and painful to walk on.
Toma doted on me like the perfect boyfriend, straight out of a monster romance.
Without the monster peen. Though the way he used it, even on the soft bed, was enough to make me see stars.
For being a virgin, he picked up how to make me come very quickly.
His muscled arms ripple with strength across his chest, his tall frame making the living room seem small. I bite my lip, remembering how easily he carried me and how he commands my body with massive hands and controlled movements.
“Lu?” he calls out.
“Ugh?”
Toma chuckles and the sound is rich, travelling on my skin with a dark promise. “I said, ‘if you’re sure, you better get ready.’ I’m not chasing you in the dark and risking another injury.”
“You say it like it’s a daily occurrence,” I huff with indignation.
His fingers splay across my cheeks as he frames my face and kisses me, his lips barely touching mine and I chase after them. He’s only been in my life—really in my life—for less than forty-eight hours but every moment I’m not touching him is wasted, in my opinion.
“I know what you’re capable of, ru?ica moja.”
“You never told me what it means.”
He smiles and kisses my brow. “My little rose.”
“I’m not delicate,” I retort.
“No, you’re not. You’re thorny and you hide it behind a smile. Like the rose hiding behind beauty.”
My breath catches, a protest on the tip of my tongue. But Toma has been watching me for months. I shouldn’t be surprised that he can see the cracks of my sunshine armour. “There’s no pretending with me, Lu. I see you for who you are.”
I nod. And change topics, uncomfortable with being perceived.
“So, when shall we do it?”
“Now.”
“Now?” My heart kicks against my ribcage and a smile spreads on my face. “Okay. Let me get my sneakers.”
“First, ground rules,” he says with a hand on my elbow to stop me from bolting towards the bedroom to get ready. “What do you want?”
I inhale and brace for the truth that’s about to come out of my mouth.
“I want you to have no mercy, no matter how much I plead and cry. I run, you chase. And you do whatever you want.”
“Good girl.”
My body ignites at the words. His lips slam into mine in a feverish kiss, a hand on my ass while the other threads into my hair, pulling at the roots in a possessive grip. “So fucking perfect,” Toma whispers against my lips. My stomach flutters with butterflies. “Your safe word?”
“Roses.”
He grins before he claims my mouth again, tongue dominating me completely, stealing the breath from my lungs like he’s starved for it and I’m the only source of oxygen on Earth.
The raw power coursing through me at the force of his need is a drug.
And the anticipation at having him catch me is just as powerful.
“Ew,” I hear behind us and break the kiss. Mina watches us with part satisfaction, part disdain. She rolls her eyes when Toma adjusts himself, not subtle about it at all. He kisses my brow.
“Text me when you’re ready. I’ll give you ladies some privacy,” he says and nods to Mina before disappearing towards the bedroom.
“So, you trust him?” Mina asks, when the door closes behind his back.
“I do. I know it’s unconventional but he’s taken care of me so far.”
I retrieve my sneakers by the entrance door and start putting them on. Mina frowns. “Are you going out for a stroll? Without him, the man who literally follows you to the toilet?”
The tip of my ears redden.
“He doesn’t,” I scoff. “He’ll follow.” I try to remain cryptic but understanding dawns on her face.
“Okay, you know what? Don’t tell me. Before you two get your freak on, I have something to tell you.” The sudden shift of her voice, and the clouds in her eyes alert me that it’s serious. “I’m leaving.”
“Where? Back to Edinburgh? Tonight?”
She steps forward and takes my hand in hers, urgency lacing her next words. “No, Lucie. I’m going into hiding. I can’t marry that man.”
The last words are spoken in a hush as though the words could summon her fiancé. I don’t know much about the New-York Irish mob but I’ve been around enough Made Men to know they’re ruthless. We all have to be.
I close the gap and take her into my arms, tears springing behind my eyelids. I just met her and already I have to say goodbye. Though for once, I don’t feel like she’s abandoning me. I understand her need for freedom, her call to hide away from a life of violence and loss.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper in her hair, incapable of letting go. I know when I come back from my evening escapade with Toma, she’ll be gone.
She whispers a name. A place. One that I will keep hidden from anyone who asks, within the depth of my soul. Even Toma won’t know where she goes.
“Write to me?” She asks and I nod.
She disappears up the stairs to her bedroom. The clock ticks, reminding me of Toma’s promise. With one last glance towards her door, I text him that I’m ready, and step outside into the cool autumn air, towards the forest.
I have ten minutes before my stalker follows. I’m unsure if it’s too long or too short.
At first, I keep walking on the marked trail.
My mind is reeling, fresh grief taking over.
Mina doesn’t do goodbyes. Even when we went to parties this semester, she always disappeared with a kiss on my cheek, never a ‘see you later’ or anything.
I thought it strange at first, but I guess it’s her way of controlling the outcomes of her messy life.
I’m the opposite. I always say goodbye with hugs that last too long.
I was mad at my parents the evening I lost them.
I never got to tell them how much I loved them.
How much I wanted to show them my latest poems or drawing.
I never created anything else after I lost them, numbing with false friends and alcohol instead.
Anything to forget that I lost the people who loved me most and that I loved most despite the early-teenage angst telling them otherwise.
After that, I made sure I told my dad how much I was grateful for his steady presence in my life every chance I got.
And he did, too. I like to believe it’s thanks to me.
The man I met that first day wasn’t effusive like he has become.
But he certainly stepped up to fill the needs of a twelve-year-old girl ruined by pain.
His absence lately has left another hole in my heart.
Before grief can overtake me again, a branch crack behind me. My nervous system’s flight mode activates automatically. I freeze, listen.
“This is when you run,” a sinister voice comes through the trees though I can’t identify from where.
My heart pounds as I race through the dark, misty woods.
I see nothing when I throw a glance over my shoulder, but my monster’s presence is a weight at my back.
I stumble upon a rock and scrape my knees through my jeans as I fall, swearing but recovering quickly.
I need to be more careful. I can’t afford to fall again, and lose ground.
The rational side of my brain, still active though getting erased little by little by my animal one, reminds me that another fall means I don’t get chased and fucked like I’ve dreamt for years.
The wet earth absorbs the sounds of my feet, but the traces I leave are clear as day in the mud. I pause. The trees sway with the shallow wind, a lament I know all too well. The veil between what’s real and my fantasy thins.
A broken branch from a nearby pine tree looks like a grotesque creature come to die in the middle of this forsaken land. It makes the perfect tool to cover the evidence of my escape. I pull on it, muscles straining with the effort until it cracks off the tree trunk.
My advance slows as I take time to swipe behind me, but I’m still moving, still leaving.
Brambles snap on my right. I straighten up to my full height. Bend at the knees. I don’t wait for another sound, for my captor to find me. I jump into a run, this time without looking behind.
I pant. My limbs burn. My lungs struggle, air becoming scarce as it’s replaced with fear. Branches scrap my face and hands and arms, tearing my loose thermal shirt and painting its edges with fresh, crimson blood.
I panic, breaths coming in short and vision whitening at the edges with the fear pumping through my system. But I don’t relent.
I come to a clearing when the thunder breaks, creating a new hymn. My clothes gather against my back with sweat. I shiver, the late October air too frigid for my attire.
I look up and blanch. I was here fifteen minutes ago.
I’m running in circles.
A growl echoes in the open space between the trees. Sinister. Low. And enticing.
It’s too late.
He’s found me.
A fearful cry escapes me when a dark silhouette emerges from between the trees.
A half mask with a skull covers the stranger’s face, his naked chest glistening with a mix of mist and sweat, tight dark jeans on his strong legs.
No matter how fast I run, he can catch up to me. He’s just toying with me.
I run again, whimpering, not looking behind this time. I can’t let him have me. He’ll feast until I have nothing left to give.
He’s too fast. I catch sight of him on my left, eyes alight with amusement and a predatory glint that has me crying out. My throat is raw and parched, my lungs burning with the need to catch more oxygen as I push my body to run faster, to escape.
“Run, little rose,” a murmur says on my right this time and I yelp, veering left to avoid the beast that’s after my soul.