Chapter 12
Twelve
Harper
“What are we going to do about the little boy in the basement?” I ask, staring at Luca.
I shiver, the steam from the shower warming up the bathroom, but I’m still freezing from running around outside in the middle of the night.
Or maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s still firing through me.
Luca removes his shirt and then strips out of his pants, kicking them out of the way. He pulls back the shower curtain. “Join me.”
He’s not answering my question.
He hurries into the shower and steps under the hot spray.
Sighing, I strip out of his clothes that I’m wearing and join him. “Happy?” I ask, perturbed that he can’t just talk to me like a normal person.
Luca’s arms are instantly around my waist, tugging me against him under the hot water.
I exhale a breath, but I’m still shivering and on the verge of crying. None of this is fair.
“Talk to me,” he whispers, his fingers moving over my back, touching and grazing every inch of my skin. His hands never cease to slow, and he keeps me close against him, which also allows us to share the water.
“Your father is the mafia?” I can’t keep my voice down, and his answer is a silent nod.
“You should have fucking told me, Luca. Before I showed up here.” I attempt to shove him off of me, but his hold on me only grows stronger.
“I know. I couldn’t,” he says, his breath tickling my neck as he rests his lips against my bare skin.
My body curls into his, seeking comfort, warmth, affection, while my heart is being tormented. I’m breaking inside.
“What are we going to do?” My voice catches in my throat, and I feel the first tears begin to surface.
Luca brings me in farther under the spray, letting the water wash away the first signs of moisture.
“We’re going to plan a wedding.”
I laugh darkly. “You can’t be serious.” He’s out of his mind if he thinks we’re actually going through with a wedding.
“We don’t even love each other.” He can’t tell me that he loves me, I’d never believe him.
We’ve had sex once, last night, and yes, it was fucking amazing, but he doesn’t know everything about me.
And clearly, I don’t know everything about him either.
“There’s time for that,” he whispers, his thumb grazing my cheek before caressing my jaw. He tilts my chin up to meet his stare. “We’re at least heading in the right direction.”
“Are we?” I ask. “Because you’ve been lying to me.”
“I couldn’t tell you about my family,” Luca says. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, clearly pained by what’s happening. “You know that’s not fair.”
“But here we are,” I say and gesture to the shower.
Luca sighs. “I only came back here to protect you.”
“Thanks for not running off when I rescued the little kid,” I mutter and pull back, trying to slip from his grasp.
He holds me tighter.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Do I?” I ask. “Because I’m not sure what you mean. I’m not even sure who you are anymore.” I step out of the shower, glancing down as the dirt swirls around the tub floor. I’m not entirely clean, all I did was rinse off, but standing in the shower with Luca isn’t helping.
“I’m still me,” Luca says and rinses under the spray.
He grabs the shampoo bottle while I reach for a towel, drying off and trying to warm up.
Already, I’m cold, but I’m not sure it isn’t also his touch that I already miss.
He closes part of the curtain, trying to keep the water off the bathroom floor, but I can still see his face, talk to him.
“I don’t know what that means. I don’t even know who you are,” I say. “We’ve just scratched the surface of a relationship between us, and now we’re talking about jumping headfirst into marriage. It’s insane.”
Luca rinses the soapsuds from his hair and then turns to face me.
“Do you think I want to join my father after college?” he asks, staring straight into my soul.
“This wasn’t my great idea to come here this weekend.
I showed up to protect you, Harper, and that’s what I’m going to do. No matter what.”
I yank the shower curtain all the way closed. I don’t want to see him right now.
I know he’s trying to help, but he’s making it worse.
There has to be another way, another option; marriage isn’t the answer. It isn’t the answer—there’s so much he doesn’t know about me, about my life, and I can’t just marry him. It’s crazy.
Luca leaves the water running, but he steps out of the shower. He grabs a towel and begins to dry off while I grab my pajamas from my overnight bag.
I’m silent. I don’t know what to say, what to do. Maybe we can pretend that we’ll get married or fake a wedding and then find a way to escape his family.
We could transfer schools, move to another state, or even to another country.
But then there’s my family. I can’t just walk away from them. As it is, I usually call them on weekends, and they’re probably wondering why they haven’t heard from me.
It’s so fucking complicated, and he doesn’t even have the slightest idea how bad this could be, for all of us.
“Are you mad at me?” Luca asks. He slips into a pair of boxers and nothing else.
I try not to stare at his bare chest, but my body reacts even when I don’t want it to. He’s gorgeous, and he’s not a bad guy; his father is the monster.
But he’s going to become him if he joins the family business.
A muffled gunshot reverberates through the walls. My eyes widen in horror, and my hands tremble. I think I’m going to be sick. Did they just murder that innocent little boy or the man they wanted me to kill?
Tears burn my vision. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I can’t marry you and pretend everything is okay.”
Luca nods slowly and pulls me against him. “Then, you and I, we won’t pretend. We’ll be honest with each other. Always. Okay?”
The air leaves my lungs as I exhale a heavy sigh.
Honest.
He wasn’t honest with me about his father, his family, the mafia.
“We won’t pretend,” I repeat, because I can get onboard with being real with Luca. I’ve always been genuine around him.
“Not to each other,” he says, clarifying his meaning. “We might have to pretend in front of my parents and yours—”
Another sigh, and this time I open the bathroom door.
He turns around, shuts off the shower and hurries after me.
Luca is silent, but he’s right on my heel. “Show me which room is mine,” I say.
His brow furrows, and he leads me back into his bedroom. “It’s not safe for you to sleep alone.”
I don’t argue. He’s probably right. The last thing I want is one of his men to kill me in my sleep. “Fine,” I say with a grumble and make my way to his bed. I pull back the bedsheets, but he’s out in the hallway.
I want to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he brings our bags back into the bedroom and closes the door quietly, locking it.
“No shenanigans,” I say and point at the mattress.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he mutters. “I’m sure we can manage to share a bed like adults.”
I glare at him, unsure what he’s saying. Is he insinuating that I started this whole debacle? I may have found the little boy, but that doesn’t excuse what happened. His father kidnapped a child.
I can’t just let that go.
Even if it kills me, I can’t let him hold a child hostage. I’m just not sure how to let the boy escape when there is surveillance throughout the entire mansion and my own life is in imminent danger.
Unless he’s already dead.
Momentarily, I hold my breath, waiting as Luca climbs beneath the covers, his body nestled beside me. He’s lying on his side, his arm on his pillow, staring at me.
I’m trembling.
Just thinking about all of it is overwhelming.
Luca pulls me against him, wrapping his arms around me. He’s warm against my cool skin. I shiver and tremble, and he tries to ground me.
“Do you think the boy is dead?” I whisper, praying no one can hear us, but I have to ask. I need to know.
It’s impossible that Luca didn’t hear the gunshot while we were in the bathroom.
He shakes his head no. “It’s unlikely they killed the child. That’s not how my father operates,” he says with a sad sigh. His hand reaches up, and he brushes my cheek with the back of his thumb.
“How do you know that?”
Luca pauses, considering my question. “I grew up here. He’s brought hostages in before.”
“Children?” I ask.
“Not that I recall, but I wasn’t exactly involved in his operations. We shouldn’t talk about it here. The walls have ears,” he reminds me. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Try not to worry.”
He can’t be serious. How can I not worry?
Tomorrow, I’ll sneak out and go to the police. They’ll have to help, especially when I tell them about the boy.
Luca keeps me close, his arm around my hip the entire night.
I find it difficult to fall back to sleep, but I won’t get out of bed.
I’m too afraid to wander through the house, even to use the bathroom.
It’s too dangerous without Luca at my side.
He’s the only thing stopping his father from killing me.
Sometime between worry and dawn, I slip in and out of sleep. It’s not quite peaceful, but I get a few hours of slumber.
When I awaken, Luca is still lying beside me in bed, but he’s awake, watching me.
“You’re really pretty when you sleep,” he says and pulls me closer, his arm around my hip.
I gently pry his arm away from my body, and while I miss the warmth and his close contact, we can’t pretend that everything horrible last night didn’t happen.
“What are we going to do about school, our classes?” I ask. If Dante is intending for us to stay in his home until we’re married, that’s going to be problematic unless we’re getting hitched within the next few days.
“Let me talk to him this morning and see what he says.”
I exhale heavily and roll onto my back. “Okay.” It’s not like there are too many options, and the ones I’m contemplating can’t be said within these four walls.
I climb out of bed and grab my bag, rummaging around for my clothes to wear.