Dreadnought (Nemesis #1)(56)
Lucca’s heart shattered into a billion and one fucking pieces the moment he stepped into his house and saw Sal’s sullen face, along with the blood covering the entrance to his family home. The darkness instantly rose, demanding to go after her that second, but Sal calmed him, telling him he needed to find out first where they took her, along with devising a plan to get her out safely.
Lucca asked to see the security tapes of what exactly happened, wanting to see it himself instead of being told. Then he watched every part of it: Drago fighting as he went down, and how Chloe simply sat there, too fucking afraid to even move.
It was clear there was only one person at fault. Me.
He took responsibility for everything: not being there to protect her himself, needing retribution after the look on Chloe’s face this morning and what she had told him. She had said that one of Lucifer’s men, who had held her down, had worn the ring while Lucifer had marked her body repeatedly.
Lucca had held her for a while until she had calmed, while the darkness had only grown inside of him. Then, afraid the darkness would blow at any second and not wanting to hurt her or force her into something she didn’t want, he had left. He had needed to take it out on the same man who had held her down while she had been tormented.
Raking his fingers through his overgrown hair that had reached the nape of his neck, he couldn’t understand it. He had been so careful …
Then it occurred to him. The only thing he hadn’t planned. Amo…
Sal’s voice cut through his thoughts. “They are still working on Drago, but they say it doesn’t look like he will make it.”
Fuck! Drago was one of their best. Lucca needed him more than ever right now, but instead, he lay there, dying on a fucking emergency room table because of Lucca’s stupidity.
“There’s something else …” The sorrow in Sal’s voice became more evident. “Lucifer left this.”
Lucca stared at the disk his friend held out to him. “What is it?”
“You’ll want to watch it … alone.”
The moment he took the disk from Sal’s hands, the sinking feeling returned. He knew what the disk held would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Sal was no longer able to even look at Lucca as he headed out the door to give him some privacy, telling him, “I only watched a few minutes of it before I had to turn it off.”
Staring down at the disk, Lucca shakily put it in the computer. A sick feeling coming to his stomach, his finger wavered over the play button.
If she lived it, I can watch it.
Pressing play meant changing his life forever …
Thirty-Nine
A Living, Breathing Nightmare
Four Years Ago…
Thump.
What was that? Looking at the clock on her nightstand, Chloe saw that her parents wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours. She was still shaken up from the beating Elle had taken at school, so she told herself it was messing with her mind.
Turning off the lamp, she snuggled back under the blankets, her brain still filled with the images of Elle lying on the pavement, until she fell back asleep.
Her sleep didn’t last long before a hand covering her mouth woke her up to a living, breathing nightmare.
She struggled against the dark figure, but it didn’t last long. A hard force knocked her out cold …
Her body being slammed down on a table had her jolting awake. A scream escaped her as she saw men surrounding her in an unfamiliar room.
A tall, slender, older man with black hair and matching black eyes seemed to be the one in charge as two of his men held each of her arms while a third one held her feet.
An evil twist to his lips appeared before he ordered, “Take off her shirt.”
“NO!” Chloe struggled even harder against the men, her tears blurring her vision. She was shocked by how fast her tears had been created before they could even fall.
Despite her best efforts, the two men who were holding her arms ripped off her shirt, exposing her bra.
“Please, please!” she begged, praying they would release her as they removed her shirt completely.
A flash of gold on one of the man’s fingers crossed her vision as he grabbed at her shirt. It was a huge horseshoe diamond ring that she was sure to never forget.
The man who was apparently the leader approached her with a blade, his eyes skimming over her. She felt so small in that moment. Disgusting … Worthless … Tainted as they all stared down at her exposed skin.
Why is this happening to me?
The cold metal table underneath her was a stark contrast to her burning face from what seemed like pointless crying.
“Please! Stop!” No amount of kicking and fighting was a match for what felt like millions of hands holding her down.
The laughter from the evil man who held the knife rang through her ears mockingly.
“Stay still, little girl”—he drew the knife closer to her face—“or it’ll just hurt worse.”
Looking at his abnormally large, black eyes, she was sure she was looking into the eyes of the devil.
The silver blade inched closer and closer to her right eye until it was mere centimeters from her pupil.
“Don’t blink.”