Chapter Eighteen
I think I broke her, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do about it as she lays beside me in this fucking basement. I didn’t have the will to leave her. She knows my face. She knows my name. If I let her run, someone will find her. Someone will find me.
I could let someone else kill her and wash my hands of her.
I could take her to Henry and Lydia. They’d keep her safe.
Henry would kill me though, especially after this. I’ve fucked her twice. I’ve almost killed her twice. It never even crossed my mind this time to take the light from her eyes. I was too consumed by how fucking good it felt to be with her. I’m consumed by the light in her eyes. All I could imagine as I came inside of her was what it would be like to kiss her lips and make her mine.
Forever.
Fuck.
I run my hands over my face. I have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do. Manny will never let this go. I sit up in the bed, my heart racing. I need air. She had her moment to fall apart, and I stayed for it. I held her until she fell asleep.
But now I need my time.
A hand catches my arm as I flip the covers back and I freeze.
“Where are you going?” Emma whispers.
“I just need some air,” I say, instantly feeling guilty for it. I can get air. She can’t. She can’t leave this fucking room. And it only gets worse as she retreats, her hand leaving my arm. Before I know what I’m doing, I grab for her, needing her touch again. My fingers thread through her damp hair, and I bring her mouth to mine.
She is the oxygen I need.
Emma is hesitant at first, but then she parts for me. It’s like feeding a ravenous demon inside of me to have her like this. I tighten my grip in her hair, my tongue caressing her sweet mouth. I groan as I shift onto her, pressing my erection against her bare pussy. I wish my boxers weren’t on, but it doesn’t ruin the moment.
I don’t need to fuck her.
Her fingers skim my bare back, leaving a sensation in their wake I’ve never felt before. Every fucking demon inside of me disappears, and for the first time in my life, I feel something louder than the rage. I feel utterly human.
“Luca,” she pants as I finally break away from her mouth. “What’re you doing?”
I press my forehead against hers. “Signing my death warrant.”
She traces my jaw with her fingertips. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to save me.”
“I never said I was saving you,” I rasp. “All I can promise is that I”ll try to keep you alive. I’m not in this alone. It’s not just me.”
She nods in a way that rips at me again. “I get it.”
I push myself up and off her. “Come on.” I hold out my hand, and she takes it, letting me help her up.
“I’m a wreck,” she mutters, avoiding my gaze.
“Aren’t we all?” I chuckle, but then I get what she’s saying. She’s stuck in nothing but my shirt. I bite down on my bottom lip. I can fix this… kind of. “I washed your clothes. Hang on.”
I drop her hand and grab my jeans on the way up the stairs. When I reach the top, I slip out and head for the dryer. I slide into my pants and gather her clothes. I can do better than this for her—but not tonight. I’m already breaking all the rules, and I know I’ll continue to. I don’t know where it’ll lead, but I don’t let my mind play with the possibilities.
I’m set to betray someone in the end, no matter what.
“Here,” I hold them out for her when I make it back to the basement.
Emma eyes them. “Am I going somewhere?”
I nod, urging her to take them. She finally does, albeit reluctantly. She slides out of my shirt, and my cock stiffens at the sight of her naked body. I can’t see her well, but I already know we won’t be spending our time in this basement—assuming she won’t run. I can’t trust her yet. She has no reason to trust me, either. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me.
I still can’t say I won’t kill her. Not yet.
“Promise you won’t run,” I say, like somehow if she does it’ll change anything.
Her tongue traces her bottom lip. “Okay. Promise.” Emma’s posture reeks of nerves, and I grab her hand, leading her to the staircase. She climbs them behind me, slowly but surely. I’m sure she’s anticipating what she might find once she passes through the threshold, and as I push the door open, she hesitates.
I catch her gaze and give her a small nudge. That’s all it takes, and she steps into the kitchen, looking around.
“This is nice,” she nearly whispers, still grasping my hand.
“Yeah, welcome to the hideout,” I reply, breathing out. “I have another place by Hen—by the ocean,” I tell her, not ready to give that up yet. I lead her to the door, swinging it open. We’re surrounded by trees, and the breezy midmorning air tussles her hair.
“What state are we in?” Her voice comes out so fucking small and fragile, and as I glance down at her, standing there on the stoop outside my house, she looks pale and traumatized. There are no masks between us now. There’s nothing, and Emma now can see me in the clear light of the day as she peers up at me.
“California,” I answer, holding her gaze.
Her cheeks flush for some reason, the messy locks of red framing her face. Her eyes in the light of day are a striking blue-green, and they hold a load of emotions that I don’t understand. I lead her off the small side patio and into the yard. I ensure we stay on the soft grassy area. After all, the woman has no shoes.
“Did you drive here?” Her voice is growing with confidence as I lead her toward the center of the backyard, giving her a view of the cabin. Major jogs around the side of the house to greet us, tail wagging.
“We flew here,” I answer. “I kept you sedated. I hadn’t intended to bring you here. I was planning to take care of you in Georgia.”
“Great,” she mutters, dropping my hand to pet my dog. I feel a pang of jealousy at the softness she greets him with. She drops to a knee and coos over him, and he eats it up, happy to see her. “Why do you have a dog? Just to chase your prisoners?”
“He did come in handy when you bolted,” I say flatly as she stands straight again. “And he’ll make sure you don’t make it very far if you try it again. But no, I… I didn’t really want him. He was a gift. Like you.”
She looks up at me.
And then laughs.
It fills the air around us, permeating the loneliness that this place has always held for me—loneliness that I didn’t even know existed until she set foot here. I swallow the way it draws out the little boy in me. She’s seen a vulnerable side of me that no one else ever has. And she has no idea.
“I need shoes,” she stops, glancing down at her feet.
“I’ll get you some tomorrow.”
“Seems like a waste of money,” she retorts, raising a brow. “But I guess you can give them to Goodwill once I’m six feet under.” The way she candidly speaks of her demise is borderline mesmerizing, as though it’s nothing to fear. But maybe it isn’t in her eyes.
“If I can figure out how to keep it from happening…” I can’t believe the words I’m saying as they leave my lips. “I’ll do my best.”
“Really?” There’s no hope in her tone. Merely a question as to whether I’m being truthful.
“Yeah.”
She stares out across the yard, her eyes scanning the trees before making their way back to me. “What will you do?”
The question is one I don’t have an answer for. I don’t even have a fucking plan. There’s a lot working against me. There’s Manny. There’s whoever put the hit on Emma. There’s the Big Man—whoever the fuck sits behind the computer and orders the hits—including those on me. I know whoever he is, he hates me.
And then there’s Henry. He’s the only one I’d have on my side if I chose to get around killing her.
“Luca?” Her voice comes out weaker than before. “You don’t know what you’re going to do, do you?”
I consider lying to her, but I can’t bring myself to do that. “No, I don’t.”
She nods—and then takes off running.
At first I’m confused, thinking she’s making a break for it, but then I see her grabbing the tennis ball from the corner of the yard.
What the hell is she doing?
“Major, go get it!” she calls out, and my dog takes off excitedly as she hurls the thing as hard as she can. She bursts into laughter as Major latches onto the ball, and his momentum sends him rolling. He hops up unscathed and sprints back to her.
I don’t know why I’m in awe of the fiery redhead, but I see a glimpse of a woman that I never did when she was locked away in her house. Could she be… fun? She giggles like a kid as he brings her the ball and they repeat the whole thing over again. It’s so innocent, simple, and yet I’m captivated by her ability to put aside the unknown and enjoy the moment.
“Why are you staring at me?” She raises her brow at me, catching my gaze. “It’s unbecoming to gawk, you know.”
“Who are you?” I can’t help but laugh as her eyes dance over me.
“Emma Marie Nightingale,” she answers, giving me a goofy as fuck curtsy. “But you already know that.”
I feel fucking giddy at the way she’s acting, shaking my head as I join her and Major on the other side of the yard. I soak in the moment with her, hanging onto it and committing it to my memory. However, I know this won’t last—this moment will pass, just like all the others between us already have.
Not to mention, I can feel the storm brewing deep inside of me. Emma has brought out something in me that I didn’t know existed until I met her. But no one can change who I am. The demons inside of me are banging against their cages, desperate to wreak havoc. It’s only a matter of time before the bastards get their release.
But I have a feeling it won’t be on Emma…
Just whoever put her here.
And I have no idea what hell will come with it.