Chapter Twelve
Luca
Smiling when the tree greets me, my shoulders feel less heavy, finally being able to relax them.
“Baby,” I call to her even though she can’t hear me, as she stands in the doorway, welcoming me back home.
My strides are huge to make it to her faster as I drop my luggage at her feet, taking her into my arms, breathing in her scent, knowing I’m truly home. Packing up what happened at the job for me to stow away and forget about it.
Rowan leans back, taking my face between her dainty hands. “Hi, baby.” She kisses my lips, her thumbs rub my exposed cheeks.
Pulling away, her blue eyes scan my face, looking for any telltale signs, but she won’t find anything. Her eyebrows draw together as she squints at me. I can see she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she lets go of my face, leaving me to follow her into the house.
Soft music is playing, candles are lit, and the aroma of dinner permeates the air.
“Go get cleaned up and meet me back here,” she instructs me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I pop her ass as she walks away, a giggle trailing behind her. I walk into the bathroom, and she already has clothes sitting out for me. What the fuck did I do to get this lucky?
The hot water hits my knotted muscles just right, trying its best to unfurl them.
Closing my eyes, they fly back open when the sight of his pleading face emerges in my mind. I don’t know his name and never will. Shit like this happens; it’s a part of the job, but it rarely happens to me, if ever.
“I’m sorry,” I say into the steamy shower. Shaking my head, my wet hair and beard sending trickles of water, like a wet dog, before I step out of the glass enclosure.
I only slip on the silky basketball shorts, forgoing the boxers and T-shirt Rowan had sat out for me.
Entering downstairs, she’s standing in the kitchen, oblivious to my entrance. My dick wakes up the moment I step behind her, pulling her to me.
“Shit,” she shockingly calls out.
Laughing, I dig my nose into her neck, inhaling her scent, letting me know I’m truly home.
My hands roam her body; her silky shorts doing nothing to hide her curves. In one smooth motion, they fall to the floor. “Bend over the counter, I need to feel you,” I instruct her.
“Mmm.” She hums without hesitation, pushing the cutting board to the side she does, while spreading her legs apart.
Pulling my already hard dick out of my basketball shorts, I trail her ass, adding some pressure, and I feel her clench up. We’ve done everything but anal. That’s one thing she hasn’t been able to overcome from being in the tomb. Maybe one day, maybe never. And that’s okay.
“I’ll never hurt you.” I kiss the back of her head before wrapping my hand around her waist, moving her up a bit more on the countertop, sliding my dick I find her wet opening.
“Fuck me,” she begs as her cheek lies on the cool marble.
Growling, in one smooth motion, I sink into her as she bucks back into me. We both call out in unison as her wet heat wraps around my cock, stretching her, hitting the right spot.
I could die at this moment and go out a lucky man, as I fervently slide in and out of her.
“Yes! Yes, come in me.”
Her words and tightness are my undoing, as I come. My thrusts become slower.
My hand finds her clit, and I play with it. Her mewling lets me know she’s close, as I add more pressure to her swollen clit, using my dripping cum as lube.
“Oh, God, Luca.” She comes with my name on her lips.
I kiss her shoulder before backing away to find something to clean her up, but not before taking in her position. Legs spread, my cum sliding down her inner thigh as she stands on her tippytoes. Pure art.
We’re both quiet at dinner, the soothing music in the background filling up the emptiness that words aren’t.
Usually, the first few days I’m back from a job are decompression and filing it all away in the depths at the back of my mind.
I used to, before Rowan, go radio silent, ponder, and be sad for myself.
But now that she’s here, I force myself to be in the moment, even though I’m no fun to be around.
And I can tell she doesn’t like it very much, but knows this is what I have to do.
“Are you okay?”
I take a bite of my mashed potatoes, swallowing them, picking the right words to say. “I will be. I just need to take a moment.”
“Did something happen?” she asks while setting her wineglass down. Rowan knows me; in this short amount of time, she’s uncovered Luca.
When she walked into my studio, I thought I had found her, but in truth, that was the moment she found me.
“Nothing that I can’t get over,” I tell her. Not wanting to go into detail. My job is something I want to keep away from her, to not soil her soul, like mine is.
The chair scrapes across the floor as she exits it, making her way to me. “Scoot back.” And I do, giving her room between me and the table before she sits on my lap.
Rowan locks eyes with me, and I can see my reflection in hers. “You don’t have to keep it to yourself anymore, Luca. I can take some of it off your shoulders. I don’t mind lending you them, baby.” Her voice is so soothing, with nothing but promise in her words.
Closing my eyes, I say, “I know. But I don’t want you to have any of the visions I keep with me, inside that beautiful head of yours.”
She laughs. “If you could see what I hold on to, you’d make yourself sick.
” And I know what she’s speaking of, not needing her to go into detail.
No matter how many years pass, who gets retribution, Rowan will always carry that night with her.
Forever. And I’d do anything to make those memories go away from her.
I gently kiss her lips, the taste of red wine on them, as she runs her hand through my beard, smiling at me, knowing it irks me that it's out of place…
“When’s your next job?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “Not too sure, maybe in the next few weeks. We’ll see.” And we will. I have nothing on schedule, but they’ll come. One thing about this is that it’s never constant. I could go months without a job and then, bam, back-to-back ones. And that’s okay with me.
“Tomorrow we’re going to help move Damian into the apartment. And do end-of-month data.” I need a change of subject.
“Do you think he’ll be okay there?”
“Yeah, I do,” I answer her honestly.
One thing I love about Rowan is how easily she loved Damian; immediately, he was also a part of her life.
“Go do what you need to do; I got this down here.” She points to the table.
Kissing her deeply, she stands, and when I look down, I laugh, seeing Roxy right there.
“Yeah, she follows me everywhere.” She gives me a lopsided smile.
Entering my office, I fall into my chair, leaning back, looking around, and I notice my shelf is out of place.
Walking to it perplexed, I scan the files and see they’re out of order.
I don’t place them alphabetically, but in an order that only I know.
Drawing my eyebrows together, I pull them out, and that’s when I realize whose file I’m looking at…
David’s. Rowan’s father. Standing there, the file feels like it weighs one hundred pounds, but that’s really just my imagination; the severity of this file could do more harm than imaginable.
Opening it, the papers are out of whack.
A feeling roams down my spine, clawing around my vertebrae. Rowan.
I never told her I had a file on her father, something she didn’t need to know. And now, with her finding it, I only have one thought: she’s going to go after him. My stomach curdles at the dinner we just ate, with the thought of needing to now keep eyes on her at all times.
I stand there frozen, a dozen fucking scenarios playing through my head.
Every fucking one of them ended with the same conclusion: Rowan dead.
I already had to live through losing my sister and mother; those I thought were tough, but losing Rowan, that would be unimaginable, something I couldn’t and wouldn’t come back from.
Putting the file back in its place, my body feels like currents are flowing throughout it. Instant anxiety.
Striding to my desk, yanking my cellphone off the charger, I send Thomas a text message.
*I want eyes on Rowan at all times from here on out.
I throw my phone on the desk so hard I inwardly moan, knowing I just fucked it up, but not caring.
The emotions running through me are ones I’ve never felt before.
I’m angry with her, but also scared. I’ve never been truly mad at Rowan, but I am now.
Mad that she would go behind my back and look through my things.
I know her and know she has something planned or is planning something.
The night in the ocean hits me like a freight train.
‘Our fathers’ sins bleed onto their daughters.
’ And she wants his sins to bleed out on the floor below him, for what he put her through, and I don’t blame her, but sometimes karma will come in time.
And I don’t want her to be a part of his.
My phone pings. My eyes close when I pick it up, seeing the cracked screen.
*What the hell is going on, Brother? Thomas replies.
I can’t keep him out of the loop, especially when I need all hands-on deck.
Walking to the door, I look out over the landing and see Rowan washing dishes. I hurriedly walk back into my office, silently closing the door, and walk to the window. I call Thomas.
“What’s going on?” The phone doesn’t even ring by the time he’s speaking through the receiver.
My voice is monotone. “She’s planning something. I don’t know exactly what, but I noticed my files were skewed and when I fixed them… Thomas, they were her father’s file.” It comes out faster than I thought I could speak.
“Motherfucker. What the fuck is she thinking?”
I fall into my chair. “Payback.”
“I’ll get with Weeks and we’ll get something planned. You’re coming out tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there around noon to set Damian up.”