Chapter Fourteen
She tastes like heaven, and I drink in every drop of her she’ll give me. I don’t know when I decided I was going to give into my desires and fuck her. Maybe it was the moment I thought about her naked body in this dark bathroom. Maybe it’s the demons I’ve locked away finally being unleashed—but they seem to bend to her. I bend to her.
Holding her up, I rise, apprehension pulsing through my body as my cock lines up with her entrance. My head is a tumultuous sea of thoughts. I don’t know if I’ll take the light from her eyes as I finish in her pussy. I don’t know if I’ll drop her to the floor and inflict pain on her, hurting her until she begs for a mercy killing. I don’t know what will happen if I fuck the woman I’m supposed to kill…
But I hope like hell maybe I’ll finish the job. Maybe I was meant to be vicious like those that came before me. Maybe I am a sadist that just hasn’t unlocked the demons behind the door.
I press into her, groaning as she stretches to take me. Her breath hitches, her legs tremble. I bite down on my lip, fighting the urge to take her mouth. But I don’t kiss the women I fuck. I haven’t kissed a woman’s mouth since I was sixteen in a game of spin the bottle.
And I don’t think that even counts.
I press my head against the tile beside Emma’s as I fill her entirely. She lets out a moan. I clench my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut as I hold her against me. It’s the first time I’ve been inside of a woman since well before Victor passed. I might talk a big fucking game, but I don’t partake anymore.
“Fuck,” I groan as I start to thrust in and out of her. I want to tell her how good she feels wrapped around me, but I keep silent. I pick up my pace, giving into the lust. Who gives a fuck if I enjoy her?
My breaths deepen as I keep her pinned. I slide one hand around her, and the other glides up to her neck. It’s the only way I can take her life in this position—and fuck, if it”s not turning me on more.
She moans, her throat vibrating against my touch. I’m so careful as I graze her skin. I don’t think I’ve ever touched anyone like this. She”s so delicate, so beautifully fragile. I pound into her, and her whimpers morph into cries. Emma clings to me like she’s holding on for dear life. And she is.
I feel myself nearing the edge. I begin to strangle her. This is how they did it. I groan as her pussy bares down around me again, another orgasm causing tension to roll through her.
Squeeze, Luca. Just squeeze.
My fingers dig into her vocal cords, cutting off her moan. My cock explodes inside of her, and I growl as I come. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I hold my breath, continuing to squeeze—harder. Her hands fly up now, trying to pull my hand from her throat.
“Please don’t,”I hear her whisper in my head. It”s a shock to my system. I instantly release Emma, stumbling backward. She gasps for air and slides down the wall, and I imagine her hands are on her neck, trying to soothe the damage I”ve done to her.
I can’t catch my fucking breath as rage funnels into my chest. It”s directed at myself—at the way she didn’t have to speak for me to hear her loud and clear.
Emma whimpers from the floor. I push the shower door open and feel for the clothes on the floor. What is so fucking special about her? I rip the bathroom door open, stalk out, and slam it behind me. It splinters against the door frame and rattles the walls.
And to make matters worse, today is fucking Friday.
I have to leave for dinner in an hour. And so, I don’t stop until I’m locking the basement door behind me. Only then do I glance down at the wad of clothes in my hand—my jeans, boxer briefs, and everything of Emma’s. I did it on purpose. I know I did. I left my fucking shirt, just so she has something to wear while I wash her clothes.
And I hate myself for it.
I slide back into my boxers, still raging inside myself. I smell like her, and she reeks of me. I toss the clothes into the washer, and start the load, staring into our mix of garments. I don’t know what about it bothers me, but it does. I punch the metal front, denting the machine.
I have to leave her here alone. Manny is out partying. I have no one to keep an eye on her that I trust. Except Major. He’ll just have to guard her.
She should be dead, my inner voice chides me, sounding a lot like Victor. I push it away and stomp up to my room like a pissed off teenager. I just got laid, but I fucking failed.
Unless making her come twice counts.
“Fucking stupid,” I mutter as I get dressed, pulling on a pair of dark wash jeans, and a black button up. However, maybe the outing will be good for me. Maybe it’ll be enough to snap me out of whatever the hell is going on.
I stare at myself in the mirror, meeting my dark, brown-eyed stare. The remnants of gold are still there. I’ve never seen a picture of my biological parents, but I often wonder if they were both Italian, or if only one of them were. It doesn’t matter, but the mystery of who I really am has never left my mind entirely.
I don’t spend long styling my hair. It’s going under a helmet, anyway. I slide on my boots and head out of the room, Major hot on my heels. I can’t decide if I want to walk down and check on Emma before I leave or if I should just send Major down the stairs and let it be.
But what if she hurt herself? What if the water was too warm? What if I fucked her up by squeezing too hard?
“Motherfucker,” I mutter at myself. I’m not a doctor. I shouldn’t care if I injured her—and to prove to myself that I don’t, I swing the basement door open. “Guard her.” Major takes off down the stairs, and I slam the door closed, locking it.
***
I pull into the California beachside house hours later, the sun already setting in the sky. The garage opens and I park inside. I kill the engine of my Ducati and swing a leg over the side of it. I don’t feel like socializing, especially given the situation.
“You came.” The garage door swings open to Henry Bayne, sporting his usual white T-shirt and jeans. “I’m surprised.”
“I’d be shit friend if I didn’t,” I grunt, hanging my helmet from the handlebars of my black bike. I take a deep breath and follow him inside. I’ve been to his place before, though it was to hide out. I was waiting for someone to break in, so I could gather intel on a hit placed on him. But that”s in the past.
“Hi,” Lydia, his blonde-haired wife, greets me as I enter the kitchen. My stomach hurts as I force a smile back.
“Hey. Thanks for the invite.”
“Yeah, of course. Want a glass of wine?” She holds up a bottle for me to see, and I shake my head.
“Nah, no thanks.”
“I don’t drink either.”
“Just not tonight,” I answer flatly, my eyes casting out across the ocean view. I have a similar view at my beachside place, but I’d make a guess that Manny is tearing it apart at this point. “Can’t stay too long,” I add when she shoots me a questioning look.
Henry drapes his arms around her as I stand there, watching the two. I feel physically ill at the sight and as I lean against the counter, they exchange a glance that causes me pause.
“This isn’t just about dinner, is it?”
“No,” Lydia blurts out, her face falling. “I’m sorry. I just… I was hoping to talk to you about… Um… I think my best friend is missing.”
I don’t flinch. “Okay… And you know you’re with a guy who can find just about anyone, right? Why call on me?”
“Because I don’t know if it’s the truth, and every little bit of digging I’ve done has come up empty. Jude’s looking into it now—and he’s coming up empty. He never comes up empty,” Henry adds, his tone difficult to read.
“Okay, so maybe there’s nothing to find?”
“If there was nothing to find, he’d find her,” Lydia says, folding her arms across her chest. “I know she’s missing. I’ve tried to call her so many times—and Kyle said he can’t reach her either.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to explain this better.”
“Kyle is my friend, and Emma Nightingale’s, divorce attorney. He’s been keeping a close eye on her with everything that’s been going on between her and Jared.”
I feel nauseous.
“Kyle reported her missing this morning,” Lydia continues, her pace quickening. “I’ve never been so worried. Emma hasn’t been in a great headspace since… Well, actually… I guess since she lost her mom—but then when she found out Jared was cheating…”
“So… You think she harmed herself?” I’m playing stupid, like the bile isn’t rising up the back of my throat. I knew they were connected. Manny came to that conclusion through some phone calls, but I thought it was distant at best. I’d never heard Lydia mention Emma”s name.
“I don’t think she’d do that,” Lydia says, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “That’s not something that’s ever come up—but then again, I guess she never wanted to talk about herself. I knew it was a bad sign, but still… I just don’t think she’d do that.”
“Sounds like she—”
“Something bad happened to her. I know it,” Lydia cuts me off.
Yeah, I almost killed her this evening.
“I’ve got Jude digging into Jared, and he hasn’t been able to find anything. However, the guy had a lot of connections, and I don’t think he was clean based on what we’re finding.”
I nod, thinking back to the connection between the deadline I have and the time until Emma is divorced. It doesn’t take an idiot to put it together. However, I can’t give this information to them.
“She’s worth a lot of money,” Henry says. “But there was a prenup in place.”
“And her divorce will be finalized in thirtyish days,” Lydia adds. “I know that she saw that as her pending freedom.”
“You think her husband would have the balls?” I keep my tone cool, but I’m suddenly wishing I would’ve stayed the fuck home.
“I don’t think so,” Lydia says the words carefully. “He was really bothering her about getting back together.”
To cover the hit he put on her.
“And he’s linked up with his secretary.”
“Sounds like the kind of guy who might do something.” I fold my arms across my chest, thinking I might have to do something about him anyway.
Lydia sighs. “Well, there’s also her lawyer…”
This is news. “Why would he want anything to happen to her?”
“We found a connection,” Henry answers. “They have some kind of business deal going, and I’m not sure what it is. We’re looking into it. That’s all I’ve found for the last twenty-four hours of digging.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
Henry sighs. “If… If something happened to her, I want you to help me take care of it.”
Oh fuck. Now what am I supposed to do?