by Eden Summers
“Don’t worry about them.” I tap the side of the tin. “Keep your eyes on the prize.”
Her gaze softens, the tension slightly leaving her frame. “Thank you.”
The appreciation is barely audible. It sinks into me though. Soul-deep.
“Don’t mention it.” I rifle through the drawers as she grabs something to eat, and pull out a pad and pen to place down beside her. “Once you’re done I’m going to need you to sketch a map of what we’re up against.”
“I can do that.” She holds a hand over her mouth as she chews. “I can also mark where the safes are and their pin codes.”
“Perfect.”
She keeps eating, leaving that delicate hand covering her lips. “But in return I need you to do one more thing for me.”
And there it is—the foreboding, the ten steps back to my slight forward momentum. I can already tell I won’t like her request. I’ll hate it and want to comply in equal measure. “And what’s that, shorty?”
“I need you to give me a gun.”
10
Penny
Luca didn’t give me a gun. He did, however, laugh in an understated, totally endearing and equally demeaning way before declining my request with a subtle apology.
“You’re too volatile at the moment,” he’d said. “And it will ruin this tough-guy thing I’ve got going if a woman under my protection starts fighting her own battles.”
He’d meant the latter as a joke.
I didn’t find it funny.
But he, along with Hunter and Torian, listened in silence as I talked them through my rough sketch of the house and yard. I told them where I thought the guards might be—inside and out—and gave them my knowledge of the weapons they should be holding—a rifle and knife—along with my assumption of any training they may have had—limited to none.
I was treated like an integral part of the team. They asked innumerable questions, ran through strategies, and made me eat to increase my energy levels while we came up with different plans of action, each option having multiple contingencies.
By the time they were ready to make a move, night had fallen, and Tobias had claimed a few hours of awake time to become marginally settled in Keira’s presence.
She was good with him. Too good. Which pissed me off. His naive kiddo brain took in every kind word she said like a sponge. He gobbled up her kindness and generosity as if it were edible gold. So now I like her even less.
Their incremental bond wasn’t enough to make me feel comfortable leaving him on the island, but their connection appeased me to the point where I could step onto the boat knowing he was safer with Keira than he’d be back at home.
Then there’s my brother, the man who no longer tries to meet my gaze. The one whose aura seeps with such deep sorrow as we race over the moonlit water I can’t stop my breath from catching whenever I look his way.
“Are you warm enough?” Luca settles next to me on the boat’s bench seat, his attention on the goosebumps along my arms.
“I’m good.” The sea breeze makes my loose shirt billow at the hem, the sweep of mother nature’s kiss the only comforting sensation out here in solitude. It’s the beauty before the approaching storm, but I refuse to let the thought of what’s to come send me into a spiral.
I need to stop thinking about the possibility of the guards not acting according to how I anticipate. Or that my sisters could already be dead. The unknowns try to haunt me like a conniving devil on my shoulder. I can’t give in to the darkness. Not yet.
“You nervous?” Luca’s voice is barely audible over the rush of water against the hull.
He makes me nervous.
Returning to the only home I’ve known for the last eighteen-plus months seems more natural in comparison. At least I can predict what will happen inside those walls. The suffocating fear of what comes next is almost a comfort because of its familiarity. It’s what I’m used to. What I know.
With Luca, I’m in unchartered territory.
“I’m cautious,” I admit. “I don’t hold the same confidence you all have.”
“You’re our main priority. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
His protection attempts to seep into me, the wisps of kindness brushing over my extremities. I’d love for the effects to sink deeper. To penetrate. If only my self-preservation didn’t see his ability to soften me as a threat.
“You all seem to know exactly what you’re doing,” I murmur. “How can you have confidence when you’re going into a situation where you know you’ll be outnumbered more than two to one?”
He grips the bench seat on either side of his thighs and ponders his answer for longer than necessary. He opens his mouth, only to close it, then glances away.
“You’re faking the confidence, aren’t you?” I try to read him. To see what he’s attempting to hide. “This is all a huge risk.”
“Of course it’s a risk. Doesn’t mean I’m not confident. I know what I’m doing.”
“How? This situation can’t be a common occurrence.”
He pauses, his gaze gentle. “I’ve had training.”
“Training? How can you train for—”
“I was a SEAL, Penny.”
I pull back an inch, my surprise hitting me hard as he glances away. He seems embarrassed by his honorable past.
“I don’t understand.” I lean to the side, reclaiming his gaze. “Why did you—”
“It’s not up for discussion.”
Right… his past is a touchy subject. I guess I should be pleased we have something in common, but what he tries to hide only leaves me more unsettled.
“What about the others? I doubt my brother became a SEAL while I was here. What training does he have? Does he have experience with this type of thing? Is he used to killing people, too?”
His expression remains impassive, neither confirming nor denying. “What Decker does and doesn’t have experience with is something you should discuss with him. I’m not getting between the two of you again.”
My pulse increases as I picture Sebastian as a murderer. I see visions of him killing people. Fighting for his life. Gunning down strangers. The aggression doesn’t fit what I know of the man from my past. It doesn’t mesh at all.
“I want to know if he’s going to be able to look after himself.” The question grazes my throat, the hint of a plea layered in my tone. “He’s different from the man I grew up with. He’s a stranger now.”
“Then get to know him.” He jerks his chin at Sebastian, standing beside Hunter at the steering wheel. “I’m sure he’d appreciate you attempting to talk to him.” He pushes to his feet, distancing me from necessary answers.
“Please.” I reach out to stop his escape, my fingers an inch from contact before I retract at the last second. “Just tell me if he’s capable of going through with this. Is he able to kill someone in cold blood?”
He glances down at my hand as my arm retreats, then slowly raises his gaze to mine. “He’s capable.”
Another part of me dies.
After everything I’ve been through, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. But there it goes, the sinking feeling in my stomach expanding to take over my chest.
Despite our plan already being in motion, a part of me had hoped for Luca’s uncertainty. That he didn’t know if Sebastian was one of them. The bad guys. The brutal.
Not only did his words confirm it, his pity-filled gaze cements the walls of the hollowness carved out inside me.
Sebastian isn’t Sebastian anymore.
“Hunter is more than capable, too,” Luca adds. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I scoff out a derisive laugh, hoping the effort will dislodge my vulnerability. “I wasn’t overly concerned about him. The vibe he gives off is threatening enough.”
A grin tweaks Luca’s lips, the sly expression slightly endearing in the glow of the moon. “He may look scary, but he’s got a soft side. If his woman asked him to put on a dres
s and perform a ballet recital, I’m pretty sure he’d comply without skipping a beat.”
I raise my brows, not buying his bullshit. Not caring enough to voice it either. I’m already in mourning for my brother. I can’t believe the gentle protector is gone. That he’s now working for the enemy.
“You’ll understand once you meet Sarah.” Luca continues. “She’s not the kind of woman you deny.”
“Pretty?” I assume.
“Deadly.” His humor fades. “Don’t get me wrong—she’s attractive, but she’s the type of woman who could slit a throat with a smile on her face. It’s like catnip to the big guy.”
I bristle at the mental image of this woman. Lethal beauty. Black heart.
I’m out of my depth here. Surrounded by psychopaths. Then there’s Luca, with his harsh promises and penetrating stare. Why does everyone else scare me, yet he’s become some strange source of stability?
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, shorty.” He takes a step back, preparing to walk away. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
And then there’s that nickname. Shorty. The one word which is far preferable to the things I’ve been called during the last years. There’s the slightest hint of an endearment to it. A lingering compliment of sorts.
But I’m not short. In comparison to him, maybe. Far from it, in relation to other women.
It’s just one of the many thoughts plaguing me as I’m left alone for the rest of the ride into the Naxos port.
Even once we arrive, Hunter and Sebastian disembark without a glance in my direction. They know the drill as they each carry a duffel onto the pier, the bags stocked with guns, ammo, and communication devices.
It’s Luca who attempts to help me from the boat, his arm outstretched, waiting for me to take his offering.
“I can’t.” I keep my expression blank in case anyone in the distance is paying us attention. “You’re not allowed to touch me.”
“Shit.” He quits the gentlemanly gesture with a wince.
I don’t think it’s from the mistake though. It’s his head. “You’re still in pain.”
“The bumpy ride wasn’t exactly my best friend. But I’ll be fine once we’re on land.” He glances around the quiet port. “Is there anything else I need to be reminded of?”
I don’t answer. I’m too busy studying him—the wrinkles of pain, the skin tone lacking a healthy glow.
“Penny?” He raises a brow of impatience.
“I’m to be treated like Luther’s girlfriend in public. Not a slave.” I wave a hand to indicate my lack of clothing. “Like we discussed, you need to act like we’ve been out swimming all day. The police don’t appreciate tourists nagging them to check on my welfare. So act normal. No degradation or punishments.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “I wasn’t going to—”
“I’m just letting you know you’re to act professional while I’m in the open. It’s in front of Luther’s guards or contacts where you’ll need to treat me differently.”
His jaw tightens. “I won’t be treating you like shit regardless of our company.”
“You will if you don’t want to cause suspicion.”
His lip curls, the faintest rumble emanating from his throat.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” Hunter yells from the pier. “Hurry up.”
I keep my attention on Luca. On the beautiful intricacies of the disgust written all over his face. He feels sorry for me and I both appreciate and despise his reaction. He doesn’t even know the half of what I’ve been through and yet he harbors pity.
“We’re coming.” I climb from the boat and wait for Luca to reach my side before we head toward land.
The march forward is accompanied by coded murmurs between the men surrounding me.
“Two at three o’clock,” Sebastian says.
“One at ten,” from Hunter.
“Three on the balcony at four,” comes from the lethal man at my side.
Their constant chatter drills into my head, increasing my unease. I’m used to being surrounded by arrogant confidence, my captors well aware the only eyes daring to look at them would be from curious tourists or enviable deviants.
Now, everything is different.
I’m flanked by a protector. My safety is a priority. Yet I feel more vulnerable than ever. The slightest possibility of freedom has given me something to lose.
Everything to lose.
“So, in public you’re treated like a girlfriend?” Luca shoots me a glance, his gaze falling to my feet. “But you weren’t given shoes.”
“We’re on an island. A lack of shoes isn’t out of the ordinary.”
“How ’bout a lack of pants?” Hunter interrupts. “I don’t know one hot-blooded guy who wouldn’t pay you attention.”
“Suspicion and attention are two different things. One requires police intervention, the other would increase Luther’s ego. So, no, my lack of clothing isn’t an issue. If anything, it’s more acceptable than the full-length pants I wore out of here earlier.”
“For the love of…” Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. “I wish I was the one to kill that motherfucker. He had all his bases covered, didn’t he?”
They have no idea. I don’t want them to either.
The more they learn, the deeper my shame will sink. I don’t want them aware of the things I’ve done. The person I’ve become.
We reach land and walk through the parking lot to the street, the stabbing asphalt against the soles of my feet a welcome distraction as we approach a man standing beside a compact car, another vehicle parked directly behind it.
“You Luca?” the guy asks, his Greek accent heavy.
“Yeah. Are these our cars?” Luca doesn’t leave my side, remaining mere inches away as the man lobs two sets of keys his way.
“Yes. Park them back here when you’re done and drop the keys into the locked box over there.” He points to a mailbox-type metal locker a few feet along the footpath, then returns his attention to our group. Specifically me, a grin appearing the longer his eyes linger. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Naxos.”
He’s recognized me. Who I am. What I am.
How could he not when I’ve been branded for years?
“She’s a sexy little thing, isn’t she?” Luca treats me exactly how he vowed not to moments earlier. “Feisty, too.”
His descent into slimy arrogance is so flawless I shiver. The cocky tilt to his lips doesn’t help.
“Luther’s pretty Penny,” the stranger drawls. “She’s the stuff of folklore. Men around here would sell their wives just for a taste.”
“Luther’s not here,” I grate through a fake smile. “Why not take the opportunity to indulge in your fantasies?”
The guy laughs. “There’s that spite I’ve heard so much about. You trying to lure me to my death, whore?”
Whore.
The description shouldn’t faze me after the years of repetition. I should be immune. Yet the degradation coats me in a layer of grime thicker than anything I’ve experienced now that I’m in the presence of saviors instead of monsters.
“One can only hope,” I snarl.
The man continues to chuckle. “Maybe I will.” He steps closer, his eyes raking a trail over my billowing T-shirt. “Maybe I’ll teach you to keep that smart mouth closed.”
“Please do.” Luca steps closer to me. “Everyone keeps making it clear that I can’t put hands on her, but they never said anything about scrawny assholes who don’t know their place.”
Again, he says it so smoothly. With calm and poise and a shocking amount of level-headed arrogance. And again, I shudder, this time in pleasure.
The man doesn’t quit his laughter as he beams a bright smile. “I’m only playing.” He backtracks, moving from the sidewalk to the desolate street. “I will leave you to enjoy your night.”
He continues to a nearby car, his taunting gaze still on mine as he climbs inside and drives away.
All the while, my protectors remain quiet around me, the silence growing thick.
Sebastian scrubs a hand over his face, probably trying to wipe away the shame I’ve placed upon our family. Hunter is tense, his clenched fist clutching the duffel at his side. Then there’s Luca, the man whose fierce attention burns the side of my face. He’s staring at me. Judging me. He’s seeing all the things I’ve done in an effort to keep air in my lungs. He’s picturing the depravity. The sickening reality.
“He’ll be dead by the end of the week,” he murmurs. “I swear it on my life.”
His vow catches me off guard. I thought I’d receive a reprimand for my spite. Or a warning not to draw additional attention. Instead, he gifts me with the promise of murder.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Hunter dumps his duffel on the sidewalk, opens the zipper and pulls out the communication devices stashed inside, passing one to Luca and another to Sebastian. “Put them on in the car. We’ve got too many eyes on us here.”
He refastens the bag and stands, handing over the heavy weight to my brother. “We’ll give you a ten-minute head start. Let us know if you need more time.”
Sebastian nods, then turns to me, a duffel weighed at each of his thighs, his gaze solemn. I don’t want to read into his silence. I can already hear his thoughts.
He wants to say goodbye. Maybe even good luck.
I glance away, my nose tingling at the thought of the danger he’s about to place himself in. The danger I’m placing him in because I refuse to leave this nightmare without my sisters.
“Look after her.” He lugs the duffels to the closest car to place them on the passenger seat. “I’m holding you both responsible.” He slams the door shut, then rounds the hood, not saying another word before he slumps into the vehicle and takes off.
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch him drive away.
Ten minutes is going to be the only thing separating us. Six hundred measly seconds, while each heartbeat creates a cavern of space between us. Despite who he’s become, I couldn’t live with the thought of being the cause of his death.
