Lucca (Made Men #4)(11)

“I will if you tell me how old you are.” He kept his voice melodic, hoping he could hypnotize her with it and the flame as he slowly began to weave the Zippo between his fingers, watching her eyes dance along with the movements. Lucca needed her to willingly engage with him before he let her go.

“Seventeen. You?” The words seemed to slip through her mouth.

You? Shockingly, she had asked him to reciprocate, letting him know she cared enough to ask. The look on her face told him she was just as shocked.

“Twenty-six.” With that, Lucca moved to the side, giving her barely enough room to pass.

Watching her gingerly turn her body to the side, he held his breath as she did, both their eyes not moving from one another’s, both seeming slightly afraid he might move even just an inch.

This was the closest he was probably going to see her beautifully cracked porcelain face for a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to freeze time at the exact moment she stood perfectly in front of him. He could practically hear the screams from her light gray eyes, pleading for him to save her. They took his breath away and almost brought him to his knees.

When Chloe finally passed, she began to walk as fast as she could back to the safety of the house, and every movement she made away from him felt like torture. He was letting the most beautiful creature slip through his fingers, and even though the dark part inside of him begged him not to let her go, knowing she belonged to him, he knew he had to, even if it killed him. He couldn’t cage her in, at least not yet.

“You can’t run from the truth forever, darlin’,” Lucca warned, making her only run faster and farther away from him.

That single moment, when he had looked down at her, hadn’t been long enough for him to savor, but it was all he was going to get.

Save me, Lucca … Those gray eyes haunted him.

I’m going to save you, darlin’. You just have to wait for me. You’re not ready for me yet.





Eight





The Nightmares That Reaped Her Soul





Taking a deep breath, he stood, putting the phone back in his pocket. That single crack on the screen reminded him of the scars that graced Chloe’s face.

“Drago, can you please reheat and take Chloe’s meal upstairs to her?”

Drago nodded.

Being nice never worked for Lucca for the simple fact that he was never nice. Being hard on Chloe, though, was something he wasn’t capable of.

Craving a cigarette and some time to think alone, Lucca went to the only place where he somehow found peace.



The quick knock on the door, followed by it being thrown open, had Chloe wanting to scream for her life. For that split second, she knew it was only a matter of time before Lucca took what he wanted. Then Drago appeared, bringing in a tray that held a glass of water and her untouched plate of food that was now steaming.

Watching him set the tray on the bed, she couldn’t believe it. She was grateful after being told she would starve if she didn’t leave the room.

“T-Thank you, Drago.”

His demeanor seemed to be just as sour as before as he nodded toward the window. “Don’t thank me. Thank Lucca.”

What? She jumped from the bed then walked toward the window as she heard the door slam shut behind him.

She pulled back the curtain, seeing Lucca sitting in the lighted gazebo, smoking his cigarette. From this far away, he looked almost beautiful to her in an obscure way. Yes, he had always frightened her and had made her fear for her life from the moment she had met him, but she couldn’t deny the small part about him that appealed to her. She would swear she could almost hear him calling to her at times.

His cigarette’s flame grew brighter when he inhaled deeply, causing lights and shadows to dance over his handsome features. Lucca seemed to be deep in thought, a look that suited him, making her wonder what thoughts weaved through his mind.

He was … hauntingly beautiful.

Chloe quickly dropped the curtain, shaking and stumbling back. That single thought coursed true fear through her unlike anything before. For someone who feared everything, she never feared herself. Until now.



The door opening was what broke his slumber, but it was the screams that forced him awake. He ran right past Drago, knowing he had come to wake him up to follow the screams.

His heart began to pound violently. Then it broke into tiny pieces from the audible pain in the cries. It was unlike anything he had ever heard.

The screams only grew louder the closer he got to her room, and when he opened the door, the sight he came upon almost brought him to his knees.

Lucca had always thought himself invincible in many ways, but the shrills that escaped her and the shaking that racked her body proved him otherwise.

He was afraid and was being ripped apart and torn in two. He wanted desperately to wake her up by holding her close, to forever erase the nightmares that reaped her soul. No matter how much he wanted that, though, the other part of him knew he couldn’t. It knew she was far from being able to accept the touch he craved to give.

“Chloe …” His voice came out in a broken whisper. Please wake up, darlin’.

She was breaking his heart, and if her nightmare lasted much longer, he was going to break.

Taking a step closer, his voice began to rise with each cry of her name. “Chloe … Chloe … Chloe!”