Chapter 5 #3
I want to reach out, run my hand across his back. I can see the weight of it, the struggle that he’s endured. It isn’t just me dealing with what’s happened. We’re in this situation together.
While it’s hard not to feel guilty that I’m the cause, I can see he has remorse, and I don’t want him regretting any of it.
“It’s not your fault,” I say and reach my hand out, placing it on his arm.
“No, it’s both our faults.” He stares at me and then down at my hand on his arm. His gaze is enough to burn me, and I flick my hand away, putting it back in my lap.
“Bet you don’t feel that way about me running away on our wedding day,” I mutter.
Luca’s jaw is terse. His shoulders tense, and he stares down at the pages of notes, his voice rough and raw. “Believe it or not, I had a feeling that you wouldn’t show up.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I want to touch him, but I don’t want him hating me either.
I’m trying to give him space, let him simmer down and come to realize that we’re married. Unless he plans on taking another girl to his bed—and I don’t think he’d do that; eventually, he has to want me again.
This self-loathing and hatred of me can’t last forever.
“Don’t apologize,” he growls. “Not when you don’t mean it.”
I press my lips together and think better of telling him that I do mean it. That if he had read the letter, then he should know I did it for him. I was trying to set him free, let him live without being under his father’s shadow.
Silence fills the void between us, and when I glance at him, it’s hard not to stare. His neck muscles ripple from the tension he’s holding in his shoulders.
I should let the quiet continue to fill the air, but I can’t seem to remain still.
“I saw Kensley at lunch today.”
Luca swallows, and his hand pauses as he’s fixing my notes.
“She has bruises on her wrist,” I whisper, and he flinches. “Do you know anything about that?”
“Don’t ask me questions that you don’t want the answers to,” Luca snaps. He puts the pencil down, flips through a few more pages in the notebook. He’s caught up and slides the notebook in front of me to review the new items.
“You interrogated her.”
“I did what was necessary to find you.”
“I told you not to chase after me,” I say, and he turns his seat to face me.
“No, Harper, you wrote me a letter. You didn’t tell me anything.”
“Semantics.”
Luca is shaking his head. “Do you honestly believe that if I just let you go to Las Vegas or wherever you were running away to, that my father wouldn’t have dragged you back?”
That’s what I’d been hoping. It’s why I used Kensley’s credit card and not the one that my parents had given me for emergencies.
It didn’t occur to me that they could track down her purchases and figure out where I went.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.”
“Again, don’t apologize when you don’t mean it,” Luca says, glaring at me. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten up and stormed off.
He’s still so incredibly angry, but I’m not sure there isn’t also hurt and grief locked up inside his heart.
“About Kensley, what happened. Did you—hurt her?”
I noticed the marks on her arms. Does she have any more under her clothes? I didn’t notice whether she wore makeup to cover any bruises, but I hadn’t been looking that closely, either.
“You think I’m my father,” Luca says and pushes the chair back.
I’ve lost him.
He stands and takes a step back. He doesn’t leave the study lounge.
It’s just the two of us in here, but there’s no door, no actual privacy. Anyone can hear us fighting, and I’ve been trying to keep my tone down so as not to wake Zeke.
“I didn’t say that, Luca.”
“You didn’t have to!” He runs a hand through his dark hair, and his breathing grows louder. I can hear him across the room, each gasp that he takes. His hands clench into fists at his side.
“Kensley had bruises. I just, I want to hear it from you. Tell me what happened.”
“I didn’t fucking lay a finger on her!” Luca shouts at me.
I momentarily close my eyes to try to steady my racing heart. They’re only shut a fraction of a second before I blink and I’m staring right back at him.
“She had bruises on her wrists,” I say, not the least bit afraid of Luca.
His father, that’s another story.
“I didn’t put her in restraints,” Luca says. “I didn’t drag her down into the basement cellar. That was Moreno.”
My chair squeaks as I stand and come face-to-face with Luca. “But you didn’t let her go, either.”
“No, I didn’t.” He breathes heavily, glancing me over, his gaze wandering down my body and then to my lips.
I’ve seen that heated glare before. If we weren’t sleeping in separate rooms, I’d be on my tiptoes and leaning in to kiss him.
But instead, I fold my arms across my chest. “Why?”
“Because she had information!” Luca shouts. “She knew where you were going, at least I thought she did. Kensley definitely knew too much. You’re lucky Moreno didn’t tell Dante everything.”
My breath catches, and I feel my heartbeat quicken. “Moreno kept a secret from Dante?”
“More like kept information. I’m not sure why, don’t ask me,” Luca gripes. “I would have told my father, but then again, I’d have done anything in my power to piss you off.”
Well, it’s working.
Nodding, I take a step back and turn with my back to Luca, gathering my notebook and my textbook, putting everything back into my bookbag.
Luca grabs my hips from behind, startling me. His hands grab my arms, pinning me against the table, face down.
I gasp, feeling his hard-on poking me from behind. “I should take you right here, right now, let everyone know you belong to me.”
There’s no warmth in his words, no glee.
It’s pure possession.
My heart stammers, and I try to push Luca away, but he’s too strong.
“I’m not fucking you in here,” I growl, elbowing him to let me go.
He releases his clutches on me, and I spin around to face him. The edge of my rear is against the table, and he’s invading my personal space.
Any other time and I’d be turned on.
To be honest, I’m a little aroused right now, just being in his proximity does that to me, but I’m not about to offer up some sort of hate-fuck to satisfy him.
Not when anyone could walk by or Zeke could climb out of bed and witness his father fucking his mother on the study table.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll fuck me when and where I tell you,” Luca whispers into my ear. “Because we’re married.”
I roll my eyes and stomp on his toe.
“Ever heard of consent?” I growl at him. “Just because we’re married, doesn’t mean you get to demand when we have sex. So, go fuck off! You’ve become exactly like your father!”