Dreadnought (Nemesis #1)(52)
Hopefulness was replaced by fury. “Where!”
“We believe she is at the Caruso home.”
His black eyes glowed, fire igniting in his blood. “You’re sure of this?”
“There is no way to know for certain until we get inside the home, but we were led there tonight by her friend, the soldier Amo. We have been suspicious of her being there, and his arrival and departure were alarming, confirming our suspicions.”
Sitting back down in his chair, Lucifer had his own suspicions of the Carusos, the ring Lucca had shown him almost validating it, but he trusted his man wouldn’t have turned rat.
I’m trying to find the owner of my new dog.
An evil grin appeared on his face. “Get ready for war.”
I’m coming for you, little girl …
Chloe shivered as she went down the steps the next morning. She felt like she had slept well … right up until the end when a nightmare she couldn’t shake woke her up. It had been stronger than usual, creating a sinking feeling in her gut. Something just didn’t feel right. The devil seemed too real …
Holding herself, the shaking only grew worse.
“Are you okay?” Drago asked with concern when she came into the living room.
She found herself looking around the room. “Y-Yeah, I-I—”
“He’s in his office.” Drago seemed more concerned now. “Why don’t you go in there? He won’t mind.”
Her mind and body followed the path to Lucca’s office, needing his presence.
Lightly knocking on the door, she heard a “Come in” a second later. Then she opened the door and saw Lucca sitting behind his desk, smoking a cigarette. That was when she snapped out of it a bit, wondering how she had gotten here.
Lucca seemed surprised to see her when he looked up from his work. He quickly put out his cigarette, then tried to clear the smoke with his hands, making it dissipate faster.
“Darlin’?”
“I-I’m sorry I-I bothered you.” She turned abruptly to leave.
“Chloe.” His voice was commanding, stopping her in her place. “Come to me.”
Turning back around, she held herself tighter as she obeyed him, moving around the desk to stand beside him.
Studying her, he became worried. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” she nervously confessed. It was impossible to explain. The nightmare hadn’t been like her others.
“Darlin’ …” His face softened. Taking her hand, he pulled her closer, telling her in his commanding tone, “Come here. Sit with me.”
Her body fell into his lap, not knowing if it craved his touch or if it was because he had given her a command. It was all very strange to her—trying to deal with this new version of herself who could only be touched by Lucca.
Lucca turned her to the side on his lap so she could rest her head on his chest. He rested one hand at her back while he rested his other hand on her thigh.
It was the first time she had ever been held by a man. She felt stiff at first, but her body didn’t let her for long, needing his embrace to soothe the nightmares. She could feel herself melting into him the longer she sat there.
“Was it a nightmare?” His voice was quiet, soft, yet strong. Just like his touch.
I’m coming for you, little girl …
She could only nod her head, remembering what the devil had said to her in her dream.
Lucca removed his hand from her thigh, touching his fingertips to her face, where he lightly traced her scar. “Was it about the man who gave you these?”
There was no more pretending that she had gotten them from a car crash, not from Lucca. He had known the second he saw her for the first time that they had been caused by a knife. “Y-Yes.”
“The scars on your face aren’t the only ones he gave you, are they?”
A cold chill coming over her body had her looking up at him, staring into his haunting blue-green eyes. She slowly shook her head.
He had hinted at their second meeting when she had been wearing long sleeves in the summer that he knew, but she had never confirmed it. Or maybe I did.
“Show me,” he ordered.
Biting her lip, her hands shaking, she slowly pushed up her right and then her left sleeve as far as they could go, revealing several scars on each arm. Her marks spread out from right above her wrist to the top of her shoulders.
She hadn’t shown anyone besides Elle. And no one had ever suspected her of having more scars than the ones that marked her face.
Taking his time, Lucca touched each revealed scar on her arms, tracing, studying how thick they were and how deep the bastard must have gone based upon how high they were raised. Each mark almost glowed against her pale skin.
“Is this all of them?” he asked with a hint of doubt in his voice, seeming to know it wasn’t.
She swallowed hard. Don’t make me tell you.
“Tell me where the rest of them are.”
“A-Are you going to make me show you?”
“Not today, I won’t,” he assured her, still lightly touching each scar.
She whispered the place not even Elle knew about, “M-My s-stomach.”
He didn’t respond, continuing to look, touch, and memorize the scars on her arms before pulling the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her cold arms back up.