Lucca (Made Men #4)(32)

She had practically destroyed her hands, and he had a feeling he was to blame after making her face the frightening truth in his office.

Knowing he had pushed her too far, he had left her alone, letting her retreat to the safety of her room. Instead, she had only made it her hell by self-mutilating herself. Never again.

Lucca couldn’t help thinking back to what Chloe had repeated. Amo will come for me … He will save me.

For a man who wasn’t supposed to feel anything, those words had cut him deeply. She couldn’t see it yet; didn’t even know that was the exact thing he was trying to do.





Twenty-Three





We Only See What We Want to See





When Chloe woke up the next morning, she felt like death. Her hands were sore, and her mind was foggy from pure exhaustion. If she hadn’t gotten the deep sleep she had after Lucca had come in, she wasn’t sure what kind of state her mind would be in.

Raising up in bed, she saw that it was ten past eleven, much later than she was used to waking up.

Her eyes drifted to the unbroken music box that Lucca had given her. Then they drifted to the silver nail clippers she hadn’t seen before right next to it.

She remembered the request he had asked of her last night, realizing he must have set them there to make sure she clipped her nails. She usually kept a bit of length on them; that’s how she liked them. It was a bad nervous habit she had adapted—wringing her hands that turned into digging her nails into her skin when she was scared. She couldn’t explain why she did it.

Not wanting to part ways with her nails, nor wanting to do everything Lucca asked, she ignored his request, going into the bathroom to wash away the horrors of yesterday.

She quickly used the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and then hopped into the shower. When she got out, she noticed the ointment Lucca had used last night, along with a new bandage on the bathroom counter.

Why? She would never understand him and why he did the things he did. Even though it might have been a thoughtful gesture, it still came from a deranged man.

Staring at her sore and swollen hands, she saw that she hadn’t done this amount of damage to herself in a long time. She figured it was best to use the supplies he had set out.

Finally dressed, she then headed downstairs, figuring it was safe since Lucca would have been at work for hours by now. However, she learned that assumption was a mistake when she made it downstairs to see Lucca was in the kitchen, cooking.

Just when she was about to turn around, he looked up and saw her.

“Good morning.”

“M-Morning.” Not wanting to blatantly run away from him, she spotted her laptop on the kitchen island where she had left it last and decided she would run back upstairs with it.

Once she retrieved it, she turned around, but his voice stopped her.

“Lunch is almost done.”

“I’m not very hu—”

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry, darlin’. Now, sit.”

She didn’t know why she had thought she could actually escape him.

Turning back around, her body followed his order.

Lucca looked away from the stove to her. “Did you cut your nails?”

She brought her hands close to her body, trying to hide them. “I-I don’t like my nails short.”

Coming over to her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pair of nail clippers, setting them down in front of her. “I’m not going to let you do that to yourself again, Chloe. I want you to keep them short. Do you understand?”

She nodded, defeated yet again.

His voice seemed to turn softer. “When you get over the habit, you can grow them out again.”

Biting her lip, she nodded again. “O-Okay.”

He looked at her for a second longer before going back to the stove to finish cooking lunch.

Chloe picked up the clippers and began to trim her nails as short as they could go. She understood why Lucca was making her do so. It was something she should have made herself do forever ago. She just hated how her body felt the need to please him no matter how much her mind wanted to fight it. Something about Lucca had always called her body to his, but her mind knew better, always realizing how dangerous he was.

Every now and then, she would glance out of the corner of her eyes to watch him cook. Then she would snap her eyes back to what she was doing when she found them lingering. Each time she glanced, she told herself that was the last time, but that was never the case.

His face held the same thoughtfulness and care when he cooked as it had last night while caring for her hands. She found it too hard not to watch him when he was like that. It was rare and unexpected from a man like him.

Finishing her nails, she cleaned off the counter and threw the clippings away before sitting back down to find a cheeseburger and fries waiting in her spot.

She dressed her burger with some of the condiments he had laid out as he took a seat beside her with his own plate. She had eaten countless cheeseburgers but, taking a bite, she had to admit this one was pretty freaking good. Of course, it is.

He was really starting to get on her nerves at this point.

Chloe finished her food in record time, not knowing if it was because it was so good or because she wanted to escape upstairs.

“T-Thank you. It was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it, darlin’.” He smiled, picking up their empty plates.