“Thanks, doc.”
“You’re welcome.” He walks back through the double doors and disappears into the E.R. leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.
All that matters is that she is okay. That she won’t have to return to that house or her father hurt her ever again.
Thirty minutes and three coffees later, a nurse finally comes to get me. I feel sick to my stomach when I enter the room and find Claire lying there, hooked up to a bunch of machines with an IV protruding from her arm.
Her skin is ashen, in the unbruised spots, and she looks like a fallen angel. Battered and broken. I vow then, in that single moment, to never let something like this happen to her again, not as long as there’s air in my lungs and blood pumping through my body.
Moving closer to the bed, I spot her tiny hand cradled near her cheek. I want to reach out and take it into mine, to let her know she isn’t alone. Dragging my gaze from her hand, I return to her face and find her eyes open.
They’re big and wide with the residue of sleep crusted to them. Recognition takes place in an instant, and the moment it does, she eases as far back on the bed as she can, both terror and fear overtaking her features. The dread in her eyes shakes me to the core. Steals the air from my lungs and makes my heart skip a beat. She’s truly afraid of me. Afraid that I may hurt her the way I hurt her father.
All I can do is stare at her, see her delicate face morphed with fear and pain, see the bruising. Her green eyes glisten with unshed tears, and I hate seeing them there, knowing that I’m the cause for them. It eats me up inside.
I feel responsible for her, but knowing she is afraid of me, knowing that I can’t even get close to her, tells me everything I need to know.
9
Claire
My fear dissipates for a fraction of a second at Lucca’s appearance. He marched into the room radiating anger and fierce determination and has since sat beside me fuming.
Still, he is here, and before any of them had a chance to hurt me.
His negotiations with the men do not go as either of us planned, and when I find out I’m going to have to stay here, my anxiety goes through the roof. Lucca’s hand in mine is the only thing keeping me from having a full-blown mental breakdown.
I’ve discovered that I am the bribe. The object that will keep Lucca in line and get him to do whatever these three sinister men want. I don’t care about the logistics of it, who Lucca killed or hurt. I just want out, want to be away from these creepy men who I know will hurt me the moment Lucca is out of sight.
“If she is going to stay here, then you will treat her with kindness,” Lucca orders.
“Like you treated my brother with kindness?” Igor snarls, and I tense in my seat as his chubby fingers wrap around the glass.
“How rude of me. I forgot to offer you my condolences,” Lucca shoots back.
Igor’s hand tightens on the glass. He’s ready to burst at the seams with rage. His face is red, nostrils flared, and his upper lip raised in a rabid snarl.
Lucca must be trying to defuse the situation because when he speaks next, his tone is much calmer and controlled.
“I had nothing to do with your brother’s death. He pissed off Moretti and got himself killed. He shouldn’t have touched what wasn’t his, just like you shouldn’t touch what isn’t yours.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m simply stating a fact.”
Before their conversation can continue, the doors open, and maids sidle in with their hands full of serving dishes.
The smell of tomato sauce and Italian seasonings make my mouth water and my stomach rumble. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I wonder if the other people in the room can hear it. One maid places a plate in front of me, and I hesitate to reach for my fork.
It looks like a normal plate of spaghetti with homemade noodles and a red tomato sauce, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s poisoned? I glance over at Lucca, who is still staring at the man across the table.
The man beside Igor chuckles, dragging my attention to him. “If you’re worried that it’s poisoned, it’s not. What would be the point in doing that? We need you to make him comply.”
Lucca’s gaze narrows, and then in a flash, his features soften, and he turns to me.
“Eat, Claire,” Lucca encourages, and that’s all the reassurance I need. I let go of his hand and grab the fork resting on the napkin.
I twirl the spaghetti on my fork and act like I’m not as hungry as I feel. Shoveling the food into my mouth, I half chew it and swallow. It lands in my stomach like a block of concrete, and I focus all my attention on filling that deep ache in my gut.
I can feel eyes on me, watching me, but nothing stops me from finishing my food. I wash it down with a gulp of water that I almost choke on when Lucca speaks.
“Before I go, I want to see where Claire is staying,” Lucca tells Petro. The reminder of him leaving me here feels like a bucket of ice water being poured over my head.
“I can assure you, her room is adequate.” Igor snickers, and Lucca’s hand tightens around mine again.
Petro ignores Igor’s remark and motions for his guard. “Take her back to her room, let Lucca come, and then make sure he finds his way out after.” A sinister smile spreads across his face.
Lucca stands up, pulling me to my feet with him. We follow the guard in silence, but Lucca’s hand remains around mine as we walk back to my cell. With each step I take, the dread in my gut grows. Tears well in my eyes, but I force them back, not wanting to show anyone how scared I am.
All too soon, we are at the door that leads into the small room I’m being held in. Lucca curses under his breath when he sees it. I know he wants to say something, but we both know it will be futile.
He leads me into the cell, and I squeeze his hand tightly, not wanting him to let go. Lucca turns to face me, and I have to tilt my head up to look into his face. I take in his features. All I see is regret and sorrow reflecting at me.
“When they took me, they hurt Steven and Tracy…”
“I know, but they are fine now. Steven is okay, just some bruises, that’s all.”
I suck in a shaky breath as I let that information sink in. I was so worried about them. I would have never forgiven myself if they killed them because of me.
“I barely talked to them the last few weeks. I was mad at them and now…” My voice breaks at the end.
“They know you love them, and they love you, no matter what.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I know. I wish you could. I wish I could take you home right now, but I can’t, not yet. I need you to be brave,” Lucca whispers so quietly that I can’t hear him at all. I have to read his lips to know what he is saying. “I promise that I’m coming back for you, and I’m going to make them pay.”
Lucca lets go of my hand, and immediately I feel cold and alone. The tears I was able to keep at bay fall down my face.
“Don’t cry, butterfly,” Lucca mouths.
He lifts his hand to wipe away my tears, and I lean into his touch, seeking more comfort. Closing my eyes, I pretend for a moment that he is not leaving, that I am safe, and nothing is going to happen to me.
Lucca wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest, where I take a deep breath. His scent surrounds me, swallows me whole, and I let it.