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“What are you doing?” she whispers.
I wither in relief and place a hand to my chest, hoping to soothe my ragged heartbeats. “Nothing. Where’s Lilly?”
“Chris got to her before we did.”
“And?” My turmoil returns faster than it receded.
She cringes. “He messed around with her a little but got frustrated with her tears. She doesn’t fight back anymore. She just lays there, playing dead. Now she won’t stop sobbing. What should we do?”
We should make him pay. Humiliate and violate. I could spend days—weeks—torturing him before I stole his final breath. But wishes are for those with luck and we have none.
“Get her out of bed. Make her shower. Then force her to eat. Keep her busy the best you can,” I explain. “If we occupy her mind we might be able to buy her more time.”
She nods and focuses outside. “Are you going to tell me what they’re talking about out there?”
“I don’t think we need to worry about Luther’s son.” I reach behind me and close the door. “Their focus seems to be food, not play.”
For the moment, at least.
“Are you sure?”
“For now.” I walk by her, heading for the kitchen. “I need to prepare them something to eat. Take care of Lilly until I can get to her.”
I don’t look back. I’m too busy rebuilding my walls. Creating strength. Locking down emotion. I need to focus to make sure I’m ready for the imminent threats.
Abi sighs. “But—”
“Go,” I grate. “Hurry up.”
I stalk into the kitchen and pull open the fridge, struggling to juggle all the roles expected of me. I’m the savior and the victim. The leader and the servant. The nurturer and also so badly in need of nurturing.
And above all else, I’m a mess. Just like everyone else.
I grab an assortment of cheeses, along with grapes and dip, placing them all on the counter when the sound of the sliding door brushes my ears again.
I keep my focus on the food in front of me, taking my time to place them on a serving platter as I wait for Luther to hurl abuse at me for being an unaccommodating host.
“Pe
I freeze at the unexpected voice, the tone far younger than Luther’s.
I don’t turn. I already know the low, husky cadence comes from the man with the stubbled jaw. The one who stopped the progression of a monster’s hand along my thigh.
“My name is Luca,” he murmurs. “I work for Cole.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. My limbs tingle with the need to protect myself. His tone may be laced with kindness, but I hear it for the deception it is.
“I know who you are,” he whispers. “I know where you’re from.”
I stiffen as unwanted memories assail me, hitting like a slap across the face. I fight not to remember the long-forgotten place he speaks of—my childhood home. The friendly neighborhood I grew up in. The warmth. The love.
I place both hands on the counter, desperate for the smooth stability, and raise my attention to his. Up close I can make out the harsh hazel irises. They scrutinize me, trying to read my anxious thoughts.
“I know about your family.” He flicks a cautionary glance toward the entryway on the opposite side of the kitchen, then returns his gaze to mine as he steps forward. “I can help yo—”
“I think you’re confused.” I force a smile. “Luther won’t share me. So, whatever you’re playing at, whatever stunt you’re trying to pull, it won’t work. I’m not to be touched.”
His jaw tightens.
I’ve spoiled his plan. Or at least I’ve hit a sore spot. God only knows if this man is smart enough to listen to my caution.
He takes another step. “I don’t want to touch you. That’s not why I came in here.”
“Then stay where you are.” I back away. “Don’t move another inch.”
He doesn’t listen. In fact, he grows taller in the diminishing space between us, his presence taking up more room as he creeps closer. “Pe
My name on his lips is sickening, the tone placating and authoritative at the same time. “I’m here to help you,” he continues. “I can—”
“Stop,” I growl. “Whatever you have pla
His lips press tight. His nostrils flare. Pure frustration ebbs from him yet it’s not enough. I need his defeat. I have to know he won’t divert his sickening intent toward my sisters.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” I whisper. “Luther may act like he’s willing to share his harem, but believe me, he’s far from generous. As soon as you lay a hand on any of us you’ll be indebted to him and he always reclaims what he’s owed.”
“Luther doesn’t scare me.” His face softens. “And like I said, I have no desire to touch you.”
I glare despite the likely retaliation I’ll receive for my insolence. “So, you’re one of those role-playing types?”
Each monster has a different strategy. A well-greased kink.
Some enjoy boasting their horrors. And others, like this man, prefer to play nice, luring victims with honey to later strike with sickening poison.
“Don’t worry,” I add. “Luther enjoys the same type of games. Sometimes he pretends he’s had a hard day and wants someone to cuddle up against. But gentle cuddles always turn into vicious hands around a delicate throat. Or gouge marks along tender skin. He likes lulling victims into a false sense of security. I gather that’s what you’re doing now, right?”
His jaw ticks. “No.”
“No?” I quirk a brow.
He holds my gaze, those hazel eyes softening back to their deceptive look of concern. “I want to help you.”
“Help keep me in a sexual violation routine? Isn’t that what you were discussing earlier?”
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“Yeah,” I drawl, despite the pulse building in my throat. This man is getting to me. The initial damage he caused by mentioning my home is eating away at my defenses to leave me vulnerable. “I heard. So stop wasting both our time. I need to get this food outside.”
It’s a mistake to admit how far I intruded upon Luther’s privacy. The truth could come back to bite me. Hard. But the longer this man stares at me, his questionable intent putting me on edge, the more unsettled I become.
I want to believe the feigned sincerity in those eyes. I’d give anything to fall headfirst into his offer for help. If only it wasn’t a sickening game.
“You need to trust me.” He makes another cautionary glance toward both doorways, then approaches another step.
He’s so close the gentle scent of his woodsy cologne burns a trail down my throat to scorch my lungs.
He leans in, his gaze never leaving mine as he murmurs, “I know your brother.”
My heart stops, the harsh stab of déjà vu assailing me.
With effortless precision he attacks. Without physical co
I have two brothers. Both of them the most caring, brilliant men in the world, and having this asshole use either one of them against me is despicable.
“Stop it.” I keep backtracking, needing to maintain the distance between us. I can’t let him push me into my past. I can’t fall into that trap. “Leave me alone.”
I stalk to the far cupboards and retrieve a packet of wafers. If I don’t get outside with food Luther will punish me, and despite his heavy hand being less painful than the thoughts of my family, I won’t open myself up to any more torture than I’ve already received in the last twenty-four hours.
“Listen to me.” Luca’s heavy footsteps approach, his presence closing in at my back, his hands clasping the counter on either side of my waist.