Chapter 21
SOPHIA
I wake up slowly, the moon bright through the windowpane. I sit up pouting because Luca isn’t there. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
The fact that he stayed with me at all last night is the surprising part.
I guess I thought waking up next to him would be nice.
I shake my head to clear it. I’m thinking crazy again, all because he touched me the way I wanted him to. It’s like I’m hypnotized by all the orgasms he gives me. That has to be it.
How long have I been here? Three days? Four? Has it already been five? It feels like the hours are blurring together, especially since I’ve been sleeping during the day. How long before I completely lose count?
Will Scott tell Rosa I loved her? Will he tell her how hard I fought for her?
My lip trembles and I sit up, stretching. I feel clean, at least, and more relaxed than I have since I arrived here. The sweats that Diego gave me don’t quite fit, but I’ve tied the drawstring so they won’t fall off. And the t-shirt is comfortable, oversized but comfortable.
I wonder if they’re Luca’s clothes and a shiver runs down my spine. They’re freshly laundered so they just smell clean, not like him. Maybe that’s for the best.
I don’t know how I’d act wearing clothes that smelled like Luca.
Probably like a high school girl with a crush. Disgusting.
I stand up, pacing around the room for a little exercise.
Things have been so crazy, and I have plenty of pent-up nervous energy.
I pace until I feel tired and then sit down, breathing hard.
I guess I could do push-ups or something.
Sit-ups. I wrinkle my nose. I never was much for exercise other than cardio.
I peer out the blinds. Outside it’s dark except for the moonlight, and there’s no car in the driveway. I frown. Does that mean I’m here alone?
My heart races with excitement. Could I actually try and escape now? I go to the window, trying to pry it up, but it has been painted shut. I huff out a breath, defeated. I take out a bobby pin front my pixie cut and kneel on the floor, working at the deadbolt.
Nothing.
It doesn’t move a millimeter.
This place doesn’t look like a safehouse, doesn’t feel like one except for the deadbolt, but it’s clearly meant to keep people in. Or out, I suppose.
“Diego?” I call, just in case. “Luca?”
No answer. They’re gone. I’m really here alone, and there’s still no way out. I groan and plop down on my back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.
The ceiling fan goes around and around and around.
I’m going to lose my mind just stuck here with my own thoughts all the time. I sit bolt upright, realizing.
What if they’re both gone because Luca’s been arrested? Would Scott put out a warrant on him? Would he testify?
My heart gallops away in my chest and I’d like to think I’m excited. But the thought of Luca rotting away in prison doesn’t bring me joy and excitement. All I feel is…fear.
Not that he’ll get out and come looking for me. No, nothing as simple as that. But because he’s Rosa’s father, and even with all he’s done to me, how he’s kidnapped me, that still means something to me.
The car engine is loud when it pulls up and I startle, jumping on the bed slightly. It has to be Luca or Diego.
I wait on the bed, swinging my legs back and forth. Footsteps come toward the bedroom and stop in front of it.
“Come on in. I’m decent,” I call, a teasing lilt to my voice. But there’s a strain in it, too. I’m afraid.
Not of Luca. Not even of Diego.
But of being alone here.
Luca has plenty of enemies inside and outside of the lifestyle. What if they’re after me?
But why would they be? I don’t mean anything to him. I’m just here because he can’t work out what to do with me. Because he doesn’t believe my story.
I clear my throat. “I said—”
The doorknob moves and I fall immediately quiet.
I scramble back across the bed. Something’s wrong. Diego would have already opened the door and Luca would have said something.
“My name is Sophia Bianchi,” I say quickly, frightened. “I’m a prisoner here.”
Just as I finish talking, the door bursts open, rocked off its hinges.
I scream as a masked man stalks in, pointing a rifle at my head. He doesn’t speak.
“Please,” I whisper. “I’m just a prisoner here. I don’t know anything. I’m nobody—”
I throw a pillow at his face just as he starts to come toward me.
Then I’m back at the window, one last shot, pulling the glass up with everything I’ve got. A cracking noise makes me realize I’m actually doing it—I’m pulling the window up.
I get it halfway before I start to try and scramble out of it. I’m almost home free, one leg out of the window when the masked man grabs me, tugging me backward.
I scream, kicking and clawing at him, but he’s got his hand threaded through my short hair in a moment, yanking me back.
I grunt and gasp as he drags me backward, one hand around my throat. I can barely breathe through the pinhole in my throat.
“Let me go!” I wiggle and scream again, but he clamps his hand over my mouth.
“Shut up,” he hisses. “Just let me—”
I step down hard on his instep and he squeals, letting me go. I take off, sprinting toward the broken door, and I make it barely before I slam into a hard chest.
I look up, panicked, already throwing my arms and legs out to fight, but slowly I realize it’s Luca holding me, his arms around me.
“Luca,” I breathe, and I never thought I’d be this happy to see my kidnapper.
He looks down at me for a split second, glancing up to see behind me. “Did he hurt you?”
“I—”
Luca curses, pushing past me into the room but it’s too late—the masked man is already revving up his engine. He escaped out of the half-open window.
I don’t realize I’m trembling all over until he puts his hands on my arms.
“Who did this? Did you see his face?”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m standing outside my body. “He was wearing a mask. I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” he says, and I frown, wondering why he’s comforting me but then I feel the tears streaming down my face.
“I thought… I was so scared,” I admit, dissolving into sobs, and Luca holds me, bringing me tight up against his chest.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now, pixie.”
I clutch at his arms, wanting to beg him to stay, wanting to beg him to never leave me again. What kind of Stockholm syndrome is this?
That the place I feel safest is in my kidnapper’s arms.
My knees buckle and instead of letting me fall, Luca drops to his knees with me in his arms, drawing me even closer.
“You’re safe now, Sophia,” he says, and my name on his lips makes me go even limper, like I can’t physically hold myself up anymore.
He picks me up and I wrap my arms around his neck, hiding my face in his chest as he carries me into the living room. He sits me down on the couch and I curl my legs up under me. He sits next to me, putting an arm around me.
“You can’t leave me alone,” I whisper, and he looks almost pained as he stares at me.
“Never, bellissima. I won’t ever leave you alone again.”
I shouldn’t wish for that. I shouldn’t want that. But it’s all I want, actually. I want him here with me, protecting me. If I can’t have my freedom, I at least want that.
“N-not safe here,” I stutter, still sobbing, doing my best to hold back but being unable to.
“It will be,” he promises. “I’ll have the door fixed, have it double bolted.”
He keeps his arms around me and I can’t help climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and hiding my face in his neck.
“It’s okay,” he assures me.
What is wrong with me that I actually believe him?