18. Lucia
18
LUCIA
S even days pass before I work up the courage to leave the room.
I splash water on my face over the bathroom sink, my heart beating fast. For the last week, every other thought has concerned Luka, but today, I feel courageous. Today, I’m determined not to let my former captor become the focus of my existence. Today is the day the boredom cracks me open.
The last week has been uneventful.
The morning after Luka and I had sex, I woke up in an empty bed.
A gasp ripped from my lungs as I jolted up, feeling my neck on impulse. Cool air licked the sweat off my back, and when I scooted toward the headboard, I dragged my bottom across the damp sheets.
I looked around for the source of my nightmare, but Luka was nowhere to be found. I was grateful for it. I could only imagine how awkward it would’ve been to explain my dream to him.
It felt more like a memory. I was crouched in the back of Piper’s car watching her and Luka fight. I stopped breathing when he took her neck, and I thought it was out of fear until seconds passed and my lungs wouldn’t work. My throat felt pinched, my airway cut off.
I tried to clutch my neck, but something was in the way. When I looked down, I saw a hand. And when I looked up, I saw Luka.
Suddenly, we were outside the car. It was me dangling in the air instead of Piper while Luka’s icy eyes watched me struggle for breath. He looked inhuman. His eyes were as lifeless as I’d watched Piper’s become.
When the door to the room opened, I jerked the blanket up to cover my naked chest. Which, after the previous night, felt a little ridiculous. Luka didn’t comment on it when he walked into the room, tray in hand, backpack slung over his shoulder.
He set the breakfast tray of scrambled eggs and fruit down on the bed before ever glancing at me. “ Morning .”
I hesitated, my throat still feeling pinched. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out except a strange squeak.
Luka didn’t seem to even notice. He flopped the bag down toward me and sat on the bed. “ Brought you some clothes .” He scratched the back of his neck while eyeing the food. It seemed like it was for me, but he didn’t say so, and I didn’t make a move for it.
Seconds passed while he avoided my eyes.
“ I wasn’t really sure what you liked to eat, but… ” He gestured toward the food.
“ Oh .” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked. “ Th-thank you .”
“ Yup .” He nodded while picking a piece of lint off his shirt. After another awkward silence, he blew out a breath and stood. “ Well, I gotta get to work. I’ll bring you lunch, so… Later. ” He gave me the briefest of glances before lifting his hand in an unenthusiastic wave, his back already turned to me.
It was like that for the rest of the day.
Luka brought me lunch, we avoided eye contact.
Luka finished his shift, gave me a weak wave before he showered, then we avoided eye contact.
He slept facing away from me while I stared at his back wondering if I’d dream about him again. Wondering if my dreams were trying to tell me I should be afraid of him. I am afraid of him. But not as much as I should be. He’s far more terrifying to me when I’m asleep.
The next day was more of the same.
This time he spent most of the evening on the balcony even though it was still ninety degrees out. The whole time he watched the sky, I watched him and wondered if he was avoiding me out of disgust or something else.
It was beyond obvious that something had changed between us. I don’t think either of us were sure what our new dynamic was, and we still haven’t figured it out. I can’t tell if he regrets having sex with me or if he’s just as confused by it as I am. But he hasn’t tried again.
On the third morning, I caught him watching me for the first time since we’d arrived. I had a banana halfway to my mouth when his eyes drew mine.
“ What ?” I asked, lowering the fruit.
He looked down at my chest, shook his head, then went back to staring at the door.
“ I hate this fuckin’ place ,” he muttered at lunchtime on the fourth day. His shirt was soaked in sweat, his back hunched over. I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me. I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to be.
It occurred to me that he didn’t actually need to be in the room. He could have spent his evenings somewhere else, even slept in another room. I thought maybe he wanted to keep an eye on me, but as I watched his defeated expression that morning, I saw he was just hiding from the others. He’d rather be with the girl he can’t look at than with his family.
He left before I could think of what to say.
But in the evening, I followed him onto the balcony.
He glanced behind him with a cigarette perked between his lips. I sidled up next to him as he blew out the smoke toward the ground below.
“ I didn’t know you smoked .” I felt stupid the moment the words were out of my mouth. I barely even know Luka let alone his routines. I’m not sure why it felt like I did at the time.
“ I don’t .” He dragged more smoke into his lungs. As he blew it out, he pointed at an SUV parking in the circular drive. “ That’ll be my brother-in-law .”
A man climbed out the back door with Luka’s sister following behind him. He looked back at her, took her hand, and together they headed for the front door. I couldn’t really make out what he looked like, only brown wavy hair and muscular build.
“ Are you close ?” I asked.
Luka laughed before flicking his cigarette off the balcony. He leaned over to watch it drop, and I got the feeling he wouldn’t be disappointed if he set fire to the place. His hatred for the world is a black aura surrounding him, preventing all from getting close. But I get the impression he has even more hatred for his family.
A while passed before I caught Luka’s eyes dancing over me. When I met his gaze, he faced forward, and I did the same. At least twenty minutes passed with us like that, our bodies slowly inching closer.
“ Goodnight, Peach ,” he told me before finally going inside.
My face blushed, and I waited another few minutes before following him in. For the very first time, the nickname didn’t sound condescending. For the very first time, I liked it.
When we went to sleep, he faced me.
And I’ve dreamt of him every night since, his hand no longer around my neck.
It’s mid-morning now, and an hour ago I watched Mila leave. As far as I’m aware, I’m allowed to walk the property as I see fit, so this is the best chance I have of not running into anyone. And I have to get out. The space feels cramped, but honestly, Luka’s negativity feels like it’s lingering in the room, soaking into my soul, and I need a break. Just for a little while. Half an hour tops.
I shut off the sink then dry my face with a towel before facing the mirror. The bruises Leo left on my neck are yellowed now and hardly disturbing, but still, I pull my hair forward and tug Mila’s high-necked blouse up higher to conceal what little remains.
Flipping off the light, I make my way out of the room, my skin crawling with the sensation that danger lurks just outside the door.
But no one waits on the other side.
I peek around the hall and listen closely. There’s music coming from downstairs, faint and instrumental, but I don’t hear any voices. I tiptoe to the staircase and lean over the railing to glimpse below.
No one.
My heart thumping against its cage, I take the stairs, darting my gaze over the bottom floor, but it’s above me that footsteps sound.
I freeze mid-step without turning around. Clunky heels click on wood as a woman hums, and when she reaches the stairs, her humming stops.
“Oh,” she says to my back, sounding surprised to see me.
Biting my lip, I turn and peer up at the woman as she comes down the stairs carrying a bucket of cleaning products. A yellow apron is wrapped around her curvy waist, and her graying hair is tied back in a bun.
“You are Mr. Luka’s girl, yes?” she asks.
This was a mistake.
Why did I leave the room?
Her mouth moves as she looks off, a stutter passing her lips. “Uh, se nombre es Lucia ?”
I blink. “Sí.” My brow furrows, and I shake my head when I realize the confusion. “I mean, yes , my name is Lucia.”
“Oh.” The woman frowns like she’s puzzled. “Mrs. Petrov said you don’t speak English well. Should I inform her otherwise?”
She did?
Is that what Luka told her?
My mouth opens, but I don’t know what I should say, so I just shrug.
The woman studies me for a moment, but then smiles kindly. “Is there something I can help you with, dear?”
My instinct is to say no, but my eyes drift to the bottom floor. This place is a monstrosity. I know how to get out the front door, but where are the other exits? The safer exits?
“I was just … hoping to get some fresh air.”
Her smile widens as she nods and interlocks her arm with mine. “ Come . I’ll show you the garden.”
She leads me down the stairs while I roam my gaze, searching for people. We pass four as we weave through the house, three women and one man, and I make a point to meet none of their eyes, though I can feel them staring at me. I’m suddenly grateful for the woman’s escort service.
I spot the garden the moment we step outside. It sits at the back of the property, and although the rest of the house is impressive, the garden makes my eyes pop. I’m used to large estates. Fine architecture, expensive furniture, sparkly jewelry. I’ve never seen anything like this. Not even in photos.
An arch wrapped in ivy is the only entrance to the lush greenery that’s otherwise full with trees and bushes surrounding it. The huge amount of lilies, mostly purple and white, mixed in with the other variety of flowers give it a colorful appearance that looks like something out of Alice in Wonderland . The creator is an artist.
The woman pats my arm and leaves me while I watch her go back inside. I almost protest. I’m a little afraid to be left alone, but I memorized the path to the room, and I’m confident I could always walk around to find the front door if necessary.
I turn back to the garden and start down the path, admiring the assortment of flowers that change as I walk. It seems themed, separated by different mixes of colors and species of plants. I’m so impressed that I don’t notice I’m being followed until a throat clears behind me.
My feet pause as my heart stops. I don’t turn around for several seconds. Not until the man speaks.
“Hi. It’s Lucia, right?”
My arms cross to hug my stomach as I face the man. I’ve never heard his voice, but I’ve been looking at his face all week. The tattoos covering the skin of his arms revealed by his rolled-up sleeves are the most identifying characteristic of his, at least from a distance. The wavy brown hair he wears pushed back is next. I’m surprised by his face. I didn’t know it would be scarred. Not enough to render him ugly, but enough to make him even more terrifying than he already was if I didn’t know he was the leader of the Bratva.
He smiles and holds out his hand. “We haven’t gotten a chance to meet. I’m Vitaly.”
For a moment, I just stare at his hand. I’m reminded how infrequently I meet new people.
He doesn’t seem interested in giving up anytime soon, though, so I put my hand in his and let him shake.
“I’m happy to see you out of your room. Luka mentioned you haven’t been feeling well.”
Did he?
“Oh,” I squeak. “Yeah, well…” I shrug. I have no idea what to say.
“You’re feeling better, though?” Vitaly asks. His question feels pointed. Like it’s more important than it seems it should be, and I wonder if that’s how everything he says feels.
I hesitate like I’m taking some sort of test but nod. “Much better, yes. Thank you for asking.” I push myself to be polite, test social skills I never developed. I clear my throat and glance around the garden. “You have impressive taste, sir. This is magnificent.”
Vitaly's smile seems strained. “It was my uncle’s doing, actually. But yes, I agree. It’s impressive.”
His uncle’s?
My face heats at the memory of Luka telling me about a previous Pakhan, one from six months ago. This garden was not made in the last six months.
Did I just insult him?
If I did, he doesn’t show it. His eyes move below my face, and for a moment I think he might be looking at my breasts. But he isn’t. I wish he was.
He’s looking at my neck.
When I pull the collar of the shirt higher to hide the fading bruises too late, Vitaly meets my eyes again.
“Can I be honest with you about something, Lucia?”
The seriousness of his tone makes me shrink, and I think he must notice because he smiles to cover it up. He goes on without me responding.
“I’m sorry about Luka’s apartment flooding, but I’m also glad to have you both here. I’ve been hoping for a chance to get to know my new brother, but he hasn’t been very forthcoming. My wife wasn’t even aware he had a girlfriend until he brought you here, if you can believe it.”
I can believe it. Even if I was a real girlfriend, I could believe it.
“We would really love to have you both for dinner now that you’re feeling better. Would that be all right with you?”
No.
No, it definitely wouldn’t be all right with me. I prefer to hide in the room while Luka bad-mouths you.
And I thought his negative energy was a problem. I would bathe in it right now if it meant I didn’t have to swim in the anxiety I feel being around people.
I nod, because what else am I supposed to do? “Of course.”
He smiles wide. “Thank you, Lucia. You’re very kind.” He starts to back away, but then pauses. “You know what, I bet the rest of the family would love to meet you too. I’ll invite them.”
He gives me a wink before turning and walking back down the path.
The rest of the family.
Leo, the mother, and the sister, all at the same table.
What have I done?