Chapter Thirty-One
The shower dulled the throbbing in the back of my head, and after running my hand over and over it, there’s no knots or indents. I don’t know how to feel as I slide into a pair of black knit shorts and a plain white T-shirt. My damp hair hits my shoulders after I towel dry it, and then I slowly but surely run a brush through it. The motion of my arm catches my attention in the mirror, and I glance at myself, frowning.
I’ve been avoiding mirrors since I was released from the basement. There’s no makeup to patch up my uneven complexion, and every time I look at myself, the dark circles seem to get, well… darker. And as I meet my blue-green eyes, I barely even recognize myself.
I went to a suicide chamber tonight.
I’m sleeping with my kidnapper.
My husband is trying to kill me for my money.
I set the brush down on the black countertop, and step away from the mirror as my mind racks with so many questions—like why did he do it? And how did I miss the signs? Am I really that stupid and na?ve?
My stomach lurches as I head for the bed, the one I share with Luca. I flip the covers back and climb into it, unable to come up with anything else to do with my time. I rest my head back against the pillow and stare up at the ceiling fan as the turning blades make the shadows dance.
I brush my fingertips across the place on my neck Luca has choked me, three times with the intent to kill. It seems to phase me less and less, and don’t know if it’s because I’m beginning to trust that he won’t, or if I’m starting to not care if he does. It’s safe to say I’ll probably need therapy when I get out of here.
But I won’t go.
Why would Luca let me go?
No, why would Luca let me go?
I blink a couple of times, considering the question that’s suddenly got my heart racing. I have so much dirt on him. I know he goes to a secret club to kill people. I watched him brutally stab his partner. He’s tried to kill me three times.
There’s no way he’ll let me go with my life.
I grab one of the pillows, clutching it in my arms as I roll to my side. I don’t feel the urge to cry. I just feel confused. Maybe I do have a concussion. I mean, I ran willingly into what happened tonight, all because I was jealous.
I know I have feelings for Luca. But are they real? Or are they just a figment of my imagination used to cope with all the shit that’s happening to me? If he let me go—which isn’t going to happen—would I still want him?
I don’t know.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow a lump in my throat. In twenty—er, nineteen—days, I have to get out of here. No matter what I have to do. I have loose ends to tie up. I need answers, and I don’t want help. Maybe then I’ll have my clarity back again.
The creak of the bedroom door interrupts my thoughts, and I know it’s him. It’s always him, which has become comforting, even after tonight.
“How’s your head?” his voice carries across the bedroom.
“It’ll be fine by tomorrow. How’s your leg?”
“Stitched up,” he chuckles, and I feel the covers shift against my back. Luca smells like a fresh shower, and my guess is he took one downstairs. “Jude left for the evening. He’s gotta do some digging into the men he saw there.”
“Okay.” I focus on the wall across from me, where a picture of black and white mountains hangs. It’s funny how everything in the house is so black and white—but there’s nothing black and white about Luca and me. I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’m sure it’s fucked up. It’s probably fucking us both up.
Fingers brush down my bare arms, and I let out a sigh, some of my tension releasing. I hate how easily he can make me forget about the chaos in my head when he touches me. And I hate that I don’t know how to talk to him about said chaos. I want to. I don’t want to bottle it all up like I always do.
“Emma,” Luca murmurs into the side of my neck. “I’m so sorry.”
I take a deep breath as his lips skim my neck. “I told you already that it’s fine. I’d rather you try to kill me than get a lap dance.”
He chuckles. “How about none of either? I’m tired of failing, and strippers aren’t really my type.”
“Broken redheads are,” I quip, rolling to face him. “I don’t understand what we’re doing, Luca.”
His golden-brown eyes search mine, our noses brushing. “I don’t know. I don’t know that I care, either.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I furrow my brow, already feeling my defenses come up.
“It means I know this is crazy,” he chuckles. “I know that I was supposed to drop you in the woods, but instead, I’m harboring you now—and there’s no going back from that. I don’t want to, and I’m sorry for today. I just… I needed to blow off steam. Everything builds up and then I need release. Just one of those days. But I’ll find another way to deal with it for now.”
I study his face, wondering what happens when Luca doesn’t get his release. Would he explode and kill me? Somehow, I doubt it. For all the attempted murders, I trust that he wouldn’t. Of course, I trusted that Jared wouldn’t try to kill me either.
Ugh.
“You’re not okay, are you?” Luca’s words come out so painfully soft.
I meet his gaze and force a smile. “Just a lot going on at the moment.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, no kidding. But as soon as I’m here with you, all the outside shit fades away. All I see is you, Little Red.”
My stomach rocks at his words. “For now.”
“Forever.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I think we’re moving too fast then. I’ve only been out of the basement a week.”
“Time is irrelevant to me,” he murmurs, dragging me toward him.
I wish. It’s everything to me. Nineteen days.
I suck in a breath as he lifts himself onto me, situating himself between my legs. His cock presses against my pussy, our clothes the only thing standing in the way. My hips innately rock against him, and the rampaging thoughts begin to grow quiet.
And fuck, I want him.
I thread my fingers around the back of his head and pull his mouth to mine, locking him into a sultry kiss. He groans as I bite at his lower lip, desperate to make the silence last. Maybe time would be irrelevant to me, too, if I could spend every waking moment in Luca’s arms. I’d never fear him betraying me then.
His tongue caresses mine as his hands slide down my sides, tugging my shorts down around my hips. He lets out a muffled sigh of approval as he realizes there’s no underwear with them. Luca tosses my shorts somewhere to the side, his lips still on mine, as he goes for my shirt, peeling it off my body.
Our mouths break apart as the shirt slips between us, and we hang there for a moment, our gazes interlocked. He runs a thumb along my bottom lip, and I close my eyes to the sensation, lingering in it for as long as I can. Luca is surrounded with violence, but he’s the only person who washes it all away and brings with it a feeling of peace.
His lips brush my collarbone as his hands find my hips, running over my skin like he’s desperate for me. And I’ll pretend that he is. He dips to my chest, groaning as he kisses my breasts and then sucks my nipple into his mouth. Almost every time we fuck, he chokes me, but tonight…
Things feel different.
“You’re gorgeous, Little Red,” he murmurs into me before sucking my nipple into his mouth. My back arches beneath him, and my fingers find his hair. His soft, damp locks tickle my fingertips as I squirm beneath his mouth, my hips rocking as my pussy aches to be graced by him.
But he takes his time, worshiping me with touches and kisses as he lowers, his heavy hands resting on my thighs now. The covers of the bed are somewhere behind him, and the chill of the air leaves goosebumps in his wake.
Luca plants a kiss on my inner thigh, and my legs begin to tremble with anticipation for what’s to come. He chuckles darkly, and then buries his head between my legs, giving me everything I want all at once.
A sultry moan escapes from my throat as he runs his tongue around my clit, his fingers toying with my pussy’s entrance. I rock against him, desperate for me. For all of him.
He finally pushes two fingers inside of me and I nearly come undone at the satisfaction it brings. I gasp for air, my chest heaving as he draws me closer to the edge. His free hand glides up my body until he reaches my chest. He squeezes my nipple, and that’s all it takes to send an orgasm crashing through me.
“Luca,” I moan out, barely registering it as the walls of my pussy pulse around him. He kisses my thighs as he lifts away, never even giving me the chance to come down before his cock presses into me, catching the end of my high.
“You’re always so fucking tight,” he growls, thrusting into me. My eyes flutter open to meet him, and my chest is rocked by what I see. What I feel. Maybe there’s something more between us. Maybe this is more complicated than sex to pass the time.
Maybe I do have real feelings for him.
Luca dips his head to meet my lips, giving me a taste of myself. I latch onto his shoulders, holding him there against me. He threads his hand behind my neck, allowing our bodies to press against each other without the weight of him crushing me.
I kiss him back with a hunger and desperation I’ve never felt before as he rocks against me, filling me with him. Overwhelming emotions well up in my chest as I cling to him, my fingernails probably breaking his skin.
“Fuck, Emma, fuck,” he groans out as his body tenses, and he comes, his cock throbbing inside of me. I wrap my arms around him as he buries his head in the nape of my neck, and I begin to tremble beneath him as a hot tear rolls down my cheek.
Luca stays still as I shake in his arms, all the unspent emotions bubbling up. The years of fucking numbness, heartache, and grief explode from caverns deep in my soul. He squeezes me tighter as my tears mix with his sweat and my sniffles turn to sobs.
“Let it out, Little Red,” he rasps. “I have you.” He doesn’t ask why I’m crying or take offense that it happens right after sex, he just holds me. Maybe he thinks it’s his fault that I’m breaking down.
But it’s been years in the making, and the more I cry the better I feel about everything—Jared, Luca, my mother’s passing. All of it. It comes in waves, and with every passing, I feel better. As I begin to calm down, he rolls us, snuggling me into his chest and pulling up the covers.
I brush my fingers over the ink on his chest as we lay in silence, and as I take deep, ragged breaths, there’s one negative emotion that lingers in the pit of my stomach, unmoved by tears. Luca kisses the top of my head, and for the first time since coming here, I think I might actually understand why Luca snaps the way he does.
It’s the rage.