7. Chapter 7
Y ou’ve turned from a killer to a fucking babysitter. Good times.
After four days with Luca in my house and in my bed because he was afraid I’d suddenly vanish as if he could stop it, I wasn’t sure what to do about Luca’s neediness.
It was like he had a taste of kindness and was suddenly starved for any sort of touch or affection, not that I blamed him.
It was more proof that I wasn’t cut out for this.
I wasn’t a caregiver or affectionate for that matter.
There was no one in my life, nor had there ever been anyone in my life that constituted a relationship.
Lies.
Fine, except for one time, and I wasn’t about to go there.
My brain couldn’t take it at the moment.
Shit, my heart couldn’t take it either. There was too much pain behind that memory, so it was better to pretend it never happened.
I let myself think about it once a while back, and I ended up nearly putting a bullet in my brain to shut it all the fuck up.
There may have been a lot of alcohol involved.
To make matters worse, Luca continually slipping into my bed and curling next to me, had my mind going places it didn’t fucking belong.
His little, tight, warm body brought me to scenes of my past that I had tightly locked away, and he pried them open with a simple snuggle.
I should’ve fought harder to force him back into his own bed, and I didn’t allow myself to think about why I didn’t.
Those fucking memories floated in and out like wisps, reminding me I had love once. I had meaningful sex.
I hadn’t gotten out of bed yet as I watched the young man sleeping next to me, despite my brain telling me to fucking get away.
His full lips were parted open as his eyes moved from a dream.
His fingers twitched around his damn rabbit like a tether to the real world should he never wake up.
The long blond waves were skewed all over the place.
He probably needed a haircut, but I liked the length of it falling down to his chin.
Once he put some weight on, and I got him exercising, he’d be stunning to look at. To get him to look more like the man he was. That didn’t bode well for me because I shouldn’t have been attracted to him at all.
My hand hovered over his head to touch his soft hair.
No. Stop.
I fisted my hand and put it back down across my stomach.
Luca must have sensed movement because he woke up.
Those sky-blue eyes adjusted to the morning light, eventually focusing on me staring at him.
His smile was warmer than sunshine that took a pickaxe to the ice around my heart.
Instead of returning the smile, I scowled and got out of bed.
“It’s time to get up. We have a busy day,” I said as I left the room to make coffee and feed Cleo.
“Yes, Angel.”
I growled at his nickname for me as if I was some fucking savior or a good person. I was the opposite of that regardless of what he saw, but he didn’t know any better. He would soon enough.
As I scrambled some eggs, spindly arms wrapped around me, creating a surge of frustration, anger, annoyance, and arousal of all fucking things.
I pried apart his arms, turned around after I turned off the stove, and shoved him none too gently against the refrigerator.
My hand fisted his T-shirt as he stared up at me wide-eyed.
It was a perpetual look for him. At least he didn’t have that stupid rabbit.
“What do you want from me?” I hissed.
Fuck, it was a good thing Cleo was outside because she’d probably choose Luca over me. Damn, traitor.
“To make my enemies pay and… for you to love me back.”
That stopped me, and I let him go as I ran a hand through my hair. “Do you fucking even know what love is?”
He nodded slowly, but his eyes were uncertain.
“What does it mean?”
“People who don’t hurt each other.”
I scoffed. “Oh, people who love each other are the worst offenders of pain. People in love are experts at digging the knife into the heart. Love is pain, boy.”
Fuck, his eyes were so big and full of hurt. I did that to him. Shut down his fucking light with a simple statement.
“So, Father loved me? Hurting me meant he cared?”
Shit, I was fucking this up. Another reason this was all wrong. I was all wrong. I shut my eyes for a moment and sighed. “No. That man was a bastard who got what he deserved. You were only property to him.”
God, he looked so confused now. “Fine, yes, love can hurt, but…” Did I really want to go there?
More memory wisps floated around me, taunting me, daring me to remember.
And I did. I closed my eyes again, seeing him, feeling him, touching him.
“But love is when you’re willing to die for that person.
To suffer for them. To give all of yourself.
And they feel the same. When you touch, goosebumps travel along your skin, and your heart races.
Your stomach turns with a hunger only your heart understands.
And you’re willing to compromise your very being to keep them happy. ”
My eyes opened to his hand placed gently on my face, yanking me out of my past. Luca’s eyes grew even wider, if that were possible, but they gleamed with a bright smile on his face, popping those dimples. “That is exactly how I feel about you.”
I placed my hand under his jaw, gripping it and lifting it up to face me more. He didn’t move or look scared and had no reason to trust me that I wouldn’t hurt him, but he did. Our faces were so close, I could smell the toothpaste from his panting breath.
Then all rationality and brains went out the window.
I killed for a fucking living. And my father made sure to leave me fucking dead inside.
But standing so close to this young man, breathing in scents that were my own, but smelled differently on him, as he gazed up at me with longing and need.
He pulled out threads of want and desire with so little effort, that I waged a war inside to fight him off.
It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop touching me, as if to see if I was real or an imagined archangel as he perceived me to be.
And that was another fucking problem. He claimed he loved me, and had feelings for me, but how could he?
All he knew and understood was pain and sex.
Did anyone ever show him affection and care?
Were they ever gentle with him? How could he understand such things as love?
He saw me as a protector, and now he morphed those feelings into something resembling love.
Something he felt he wanted. He was fucking clueless, though it was no fault of his own.
But fuck me. For the first time in years, he made my normally steady heart beat a little faster. My dick fluttered to life, wanting him despite my brain screaming, no, he was off limits. I couldn’t be those men to him. I would protect him, but I couldn’t love him. He was a child, despite his age.
Did that knowledge have me pushing back and walking away?
Fuck no. I couldn’t deny my interest in him.
He was beautiful, so innocent, and so intuitive, though he had no right to be after all he had been denied and put through.
And here I was, unmoving, and still holding on to him.
A sliver of my heart wanted to give him what he so clearly wanted.
If I did, would I be no better than those men who took what they wanted?
And let’s be honest. There was a part of me that wanted it too after years of going without. Of being alone for so fucking long.
I gripped him tighter as my face grew close enough to feel the heat from his skin.
His breathing picked up, and his eyes fluttered closed, but he did little else until his hand slowly moved around my neck and pulled me closer.
Or he tried to. I refused to budge as my mind warred with itself.
But with another tug at my neck, and harder this time, I gave in.
My lips landed on his, but his mouth was still as stone, yet soft as clouds.
He wanted me against him, but it was clear he didn’t know what a kiss was, judging by his frozen mouth and lack of a reaction.
When I pulled away, he opened his confused eyes. Confusion about why I separated us or about our kiss? This would’ve been the perfect time to back away, but being this close to him turned me stupid. Instead, I said, “Open your mouth.”
He parted his lips, and I dove in again, licking his lips then entered my tongue into his mouth. Slowly, he figured it out and responded to me. Melting against me. Touching me. Pulling me in tighter.
I had to stop this. Now. He was too fucking innocent.
I quickly pulled away and shoved him back, leaving him gasping. “Tell me what that was? What did I just do to you?” I asked, sounding angrier than I intended, but all that anger was directed at me for being weak and taking him. And it was taking because Luca didn’t know any better.
He touched his lips with his fingertips, recalling my mouth on his. “I loved it.”
“What was it? What did I do to you?”
“A… kiss? I think. All I know is that I need to touch you.”
“That right there proves you have no idea about love. You barely know what a fucking kiss is.”
And you fucking showed him what it was, despite knowing better.
He fisted his hands, and his brows slammed down. For the first time, I got to witness him getting angry. Good. He needed to be angry. He needed to stop cowering and being afraid. Because for what we had planned, he needed to be strong.
“I do know! Everything you said about love is how I feel. Fine, I never had a kiss before now, or what exactly lovers are supposed to do, but I know my heart. I know when it hates. I know when it’s angry.
And I know when it’s happy. You’re the one confused!
You’re the one who made love look angry, then look happy. You’re the one who doesn’t know!”
That little fuck. He left me stunned. I loved that he stood up against me, but I couldn’t let him feel for me that way. I’d only end up hurting him and probably myself in the process, and I also vowed I’d never fall in love again.
His eyes watered as he slammed a hand over his mouth. When he pulled it away, he whimpered and tears started spilling. Then, to my shock, he dropped to his knees and held onto my leg. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I… shouldn’t have yelled. Oh God, please don’t send me away again. Please.”
Shit, this kid just kept melting the ice, bit by bit.
I bent down and lifted him to stand. “Stop crying.” When he didn’t, I pulled his lithe and trembling body against me and held him.
“I’m not mad. I’m proud of you.” No doubt I was confusing the fuck out of him again.
I had been hot and cold since he walked into my life.
Hell, I was confused myself. “And I’m not sending you away. We have a job to do, remember?”
He finally looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes, making his blue irises even bluer. “You’re not mad?” he sniffed.
“No. As I said, I’m proud. You need to be strong and stand up for yourself. I’m a cold fucking bastard, but I won’t ever hurt you physically. I won’t hit you or punish you.” But I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t hurt him emotionally.
Four days. For four days, Luca had me softening all my rough edges. I just wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it. Being a killer made me less human, and humanizing me could be detrimental to my career.
“Will you give me another kiss?”
I paused. Was I really contemplating giving another one? It was dangerous and would only lead to him getting more attached to me. I couldn’t keep him forever.
“Luca, I can’t give you what you want. I’m not the right person for you.”
“You’re wrong. You’re my person.”
“I’m no one’s person.” I tried not to snap at him because he didn’t understand, which wasn’t his fault, but it came out harshly, anyway.
His hand touched my face again, and I did everything within my power not to lean into it, but I didn’t yank it off either, as I should have.
“I used to wonder what I did wrong in my life to have men hurt me. Why I could never be good enough. Was God punishing me for something? So, I did everything in my power to be a good boy, but it was never enough. Then you showed up and slayed all those who hurt me, and you didn’t kill me when you could have.
Right then, I knew I had to suffer and learn, so once you arrived and saved me, I would be ready. ”
“Ready for what?”
“For my revenge and to love you. That my suffering wasn’t for nothing.”
I sighed, softening even more for him. “Luca, things like fate and destinies aren’t a thing.”
“You’re wrong.” He said it so gently and so confidently, I almost believed it.
“Please kiss me?” he asked when I didn’t respond. “I like how you smell, and your lips are really soft, which is so different from your hard body. It made me all tingly, and my penis liked it.”
Jesus. His innocence was beautiful yet terrifying as fuck, but I couldn’t be one of those men to him, no matter how much he wanted it.
“I’m not them. I’m not that piece of shit you call ‘father.’”
“No, you’re not. You are so very different. And while you’re more deadly than Father, I’m not afraid of you. I feel safe and cared for. You wrap me in your dangerous, dark angel wings and hold on tight, even if you’re a little afraid of me, too.”
This boy had no reason to be as insightful as he was.
Perhaps living alone in all his pain and thoughts left him to analyze and overthink everything.
Everything he did was an overreacting response.
He did nothing in small measures, from his crying to his happiness to his brutal honesty.
If he hadn’t been able to trust me, which he shouldn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to lash out at me like that.
I lifted his chin with a finger and pressed my lips to his, but only for a second. Nothing more. It was risky enough as it was. But it was enough to cause a whimper from him.
Never again. That was the last one. I would never give in to him again like that.
“Go sit down, and I’ll finish breakfast. Then get dressed. We have a busy day today.”
Luca licked his lips as if he could taste my kiss, then scampered over to the counter and stool to await his meal. “Can I help?”
“It’s nearly done. You can help next time.”
“Promise?”
I looked back at him as I buttered some toast. “Promise.”