Saving Her: A Dark Mafia Duet

by Eden Summers

  “She’s distancing herself.”

  “No shit.” I roll my eyes. “But from what? That woman is a fucking mystery to me. Is she distancing herself from the trauma? Or is it deeper than that? Is she trying to place space between those she loves because she still fears she’s going to lose them?”

  “Have you asked her?”

  No. I try not to ask much of anything. “It’s not my business.”

  She raises her brows, unimpressed. “I think you’ve earned the right to ask a few questions. Does she seem scared?”

  “Yes, she’s freaked, despite doing her best to act otherwise. She likes to paste on this fucking sweet smile and pretend she’s fine.” If only I couldn’t see right through it. Her lips might lie, but those eyes never do. I see the pain she harbors.

  “How do you know she’s pretending? She might actually be healing. Maybe that smile is for real.”

  I pull my cell from the back pocket of my jeans and scroll to the app for the outside security cameras.

  “Does this look like healing to you?” I swipe to the video feed of the backyard. She’s sitting a few yards from one of the cameras, her face a picture of sorrow, her eyes dull as she stares blankly at the ground a few feet in front of her. “Look. She’s fucking dead inside. She sits like that every minute she’s not around me. Then as soon as I walk into view she switches to Mary freakin’ Poppins.”

  Sarah leans into me, her attention on the screen. “Why is it that Torian’s men have a thing with breaching the privacy of women? Does she know you’re spying on her?”

  “She should. I went through the house security with her when we first got here. But now she acts oblivious. I don’t know if she forgot or if she’s too numb to care. I don’t even know if she remembers who you are because the vibe I got from her a few minutes ago felt…”

  I’m not sure what it felt like. It was odd. Uncomfortable.

  “Felt like what?” Sarah steps back, frowning at me.

  “I don’t know. It was like she thought she was intruding.”

  “On us?” Her voice holds a tone of incredulity. “As in, she thought we wanted privacy? Just the two of us.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  She straightens, standing taller. “I hope you set her straight.”

  “I didn’t get a chance. Someone kept ringing the fucking—”

  “I come here for her, Luca. Not you.” She scowls. “And for her to even assume—for anyone to assume…” She shudders. “You’re so far from my type it isn’t funny.”

  “You think I don’t know that? Jesus. You’re no dream boat yourself.”

  She gives a snake of a smile. “Hunter would disagree.”

  “Hunter’s judgment is questionable. The guy’s a walking, talking—”

  “Choose your description wisely, my friend. I’d hate to have to hurt you.”

  “You mean to say you can hurt me more than this painful conversation?” I huff out a derisive laugh. “That would be quite a feat.”

  “You know I’ve got skills. But we’re diverting off topic. What are you going to do about Penny?”

  I slump against the counter, my forearms resting on the marble. “I don’t know. I don’t want to push her. Yet she lies through her teeth about how well she’s coping. She just finished telling me she’s sleeping well, and less than an hour ago I had to shout her name three times to wake her from whatever nightmare had her screaming the house down.”

  “She lies even though you woke her?”

  “I don’t think she knows I’ve been waking her. I don’t enter her room. I yell from down the hall.”

  “Christ, Luca, you’re such a pussy. Why don’t you take charge? Demand change.”

  My hibernating anger awakens, the warmth in my veins heating. Sarah thinks I don’t want to take charge? Like I don’t fight every day against the instinct to take control and dictate how Penny should face her recovery?

  I want more than anything to drag her out of the darkness. To shake some life into her. But she’s so fucking temperamental. She hasn’t grieved for those she’s lost. She hasn’t cried. Not even once. Which makes me fucking petrified I’ll push only to break her beyond salvation.

  “I’m done with this conversation.” I slide from my stool. “It’s time for you to leave.”

  “No, not today. I’m not going to let you block me from her anymore. Enough is enough. Forcing her to speak to me isn’t going to kill her.”

  “You’re not pushing her,” I snarl.

  “And you’re not her keeper.”

  Like hell I’m not. Her keeper is exactly what I am.

  Her savior.

  Her protector.

  Her whatever-the-hell-she-needs.

  “Luca, you’re meant to be watching her temporarily. To get her on her feet so she can return home.”

  “She doesn’t want to go home,” I grate through clenched teeth. “And if she wanted to speak to you she wouldn’t have spent the last two days hiding in her room while you were here. Or fled to the back deck this morning. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want company.”

  “No, she’s made it clear she wants to hide, and that’s not how you recover from trauma.”

  “You’re not a—”

  “I’m done arguing.” She starts for the French doors. “I’m going to let her know I’ve been coming here for her. Nobody else.”

  My pulse detonates, triggering the migraine I’ve held at bay all morning.

  “Wait,” I growl, stalking after her. “Stop.” I’m about to grab her arm and yank her backward when she pauses and looks at me with a raised brow.

  “What?”

  “If you do anything to upset her, I’ll…”

  The grin is slow to curve her lips, taunting my threat. “You’ll what?”

  I grind my teeth harder, determined not to give her the fight she wants. “I promised myself I wouldn’t push her. And so far, I’ve succeeded. I’ve let her do her own thing even though it kills me to watch her suffer. So don’t you dare go out there and stir trouble.”

  “Me? Stir trouble?” She clasps a hand to her chest, her sarcastic look of offense taking a second to fade into something more serious. “Give me credit. I’m not a heartless bitch all the time.”

  “Says who?”

  She scoffs. “I get it, okay? You care about her. You’re protective. Even a little obsessive. Believe me, I don’t want to do anything to poke that bear.”

  She doesn’t understand. Doesn’t get it.

  I’m skating on thin ice here, barely managing my threadbare restraint when it comes to Penny. She’s far more fragile than she was when I rescued her. Back in Greece she’d had fire in her belly. There’d been unending grit and determination, which I’d thought would see her through to a remarkable recovery.

  That all changed the minute we stepped onto the private jet and began our return stateside.

  The fight vanished. The determination and grit disappeared.

  The woman who I was certain would grasp her newfound freedom with both hands turned into a quiet, timid ghost, too frightened to even leave the house.

  “Don’t worry, Luca.” Sarah steps closer and claps me lightly on the cheek, taunting the pain in my head. “You know I have experience with trauma. I’m not going to do anything to make her life harder.”

  She reaches for the door and opens the barrier wide, the cool air sweeping inside. But she doesn’t step onto the deck. She waits, letting me take the lead.

  “Be civilized,” I mutter under my breath as I walk around her, then farther along the length of the house to the place where Penny hides.

  She’s seated on one of my wooden chairs, her coffee mug cradled in both hands, a blanket tucked around the legs cuddled up at her side.

  She pastes on that fake smile at the sight of me, the bright expression still not reaching her eyes. But when Sarah steps around to stand at my side, Penny stiffens, her face falling lax in a sudden show of apprehension.

  “Penny
, this is Sarah.” I hike a thumb at the annoyance to my left. “She thought it was time you two finally met.”

  Sarah inches forward. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve been coming over for the last few days in the hopes we could talk, but the big protective bear didn’t want me near you until you were ready.” She shrugs. “Today I pulled rank.”

  “Hi.” Penny glances between us, apprehension, or maybe confusion, remaining heavy in her tight lips.

  “You remember me talking about Sarah, right?” I walk closer to grab the seat beside her and pull it backward a few feet before sitting my ass down. “She’s Hunter’s fiancé.”

  A spark of understanding widens her eyes. “Oh. I vaguely remember… I just didn’t realize…” She shakes her head, her brow pinched. “The last days in Greece are a blur.”

  “You spoke about me?” Sarah’s voice is filled with unwarranted ego as she leans back against the deck railing. “I’m not sure if I want to know what was said.”

  Penny’s cheeks blush. They actually fucking blush. All pink and sweet and shy. I wouldn’t have picked her as a timid woman, but maybe that’s who she really is beneath all the layers of damage.

  “Okay, now I’m curious.” Sarah chuckles. “What did he tell you?”

  Penny glances from Sarah to me, then back again. “Nothing. They were a few brief words in the middle of madness. I can’t really remember.”

  Yes, she can. I can see it in the way her gaze briefly flicks to mine. The unease. The concern.

  “I told her the two of you have a lot in common.” I lean back, faking relaxation in the hopes it will let her know there’s nothing to worry about. “And that I thought you both might get along.”

  “What’s with the rabid blush then?” Sarah asks.

  I shoot her a glare, warning her to stop pushing. “I think that might stem from my off-the-cuff comment about you being the type to slit a throat with a smile on your face.”

  Her laughter returns. “Nice intro, Luca. Now her look of trepidation makes sense.”

  “No, it’s not trepidation,” Penny blurts. “I’m just…” She shrugs, shrinks into herself, then sighs. “I guess I’m still a little shell-shocked. It’s been a whirlwind.”

  “That’s understandable. As long as you know I’m here for you. Not him.” Sarah whacks me on the chest. “I’ve been coming over with bags of gifts the big guy has demanded I buy for you. The least he could do is introduce us, right?”

  Shit.

  Sarah knows I’ve been holding back on giving those gifts. Why would she tell her about them? I don’t think I’m even ready to hand them over. Not when some of the items are fucking idiotic.

  “I was waiting for her to be ready,” I mutter.

  “You don’t have to worry about me.” Penny’s expression fills with regret. “The last thing I want to do is be more of a burden.”

  “You’re not a burden,” Sarah cuts in. “You’re part of the family. And we look after our own. Fiercely…well, maybe not as fiercely as Luca, but he’s special, in a mentally unhinged kind of way.”

  Penny’s lips lift. Her pleasure at my ridicule is slight, but beautiful.

  So fucking beautiful.

  “Tell me more about this unhingement,” she says. “Us mentally challenged people need to stick together.”

  I know she’s only trying to be a part of the conversation, and yeah, I chuckle to encourage more of her involvement. But Jesus, I hate her being down on herself. It makes me want to shake her even more.

  “Well, that’s my cue to leave.” I grab the armrests, waiting for a protest from Penny to keep me in place. “If you’re going to talk about me I’d prefer you do it behind my back.”

  Her eyes flash. Her lips part.

  “Good. Go.” Sarah shoos me with a wave of her hand. “It’s time for some girl talk.”

  I remain poised to move, waiting, wordlessly demanding Penny to ask for help.

  Just tell me to stay.

  Ask me to protect you.

  “Go on,” Sarah demands. “Get going.”

  I pause for one more second. Two. But when Pen doesn’t speak, I give up.

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.” I push from my seat and shoot a warning look at Sarah. “Be nice.”

  She snaps her teeth at me before stealing my chair. “Run along, soldier.”

  3

  Penny

  Luca walks away, and the whole time I wish he wasn't leaving me alone with her. I don’t know this woman. I don’t think I want to. There’s a hardness in her eyes that unsettles me. A bitterness. And I’m unsure if it's aimed at me personally.

  “Do you like it here?” she asks as soon as the French door closes behind him.

  I continue to cradle the coffee mug in my hands and shift my focus to the backyard. It’s simplistic. Fresh-cut lawn. A few shrubs. Two billowing trees. It’s completely different to the perfectly manicured gardens of the hell I previously lived in, and for that I'm thankful.

  “Yes.” I appreciate being welcomed into Luca’s home. But I hate being here. In my own skin. Cloaked in irrational emotion. Haunted by thoughts.

  “You’re not uncomfortable? You wouldn't prefer to be somewhere else?”

  “No.” The truth is, there is nowhere else. I have nowhere to go. Nowhere to belong.

  “And what about Luca? Is he treating you well?”

  I nod and begin to resent the manners instilled in me as a child that make it impossible to ignore her. I’m too tired for this conversation.

  “Are you sure? He said yesterday that you've been cooking and cleaning. Is that out of obligation? Is he making you do those things?”

  My narrowed gaze snaps to her. “No, of course not. He’s been nothing but kind to me.”

  “So he hasn’t implied you need to carry your weight? Or maybe return his hospitality with a sexual favor or two?”

  I shove to my feet, the blanket falling from my waist to land on the wooden deck. “Not at all.” My tone is harsh. Adamant. “He’s been perfect.” Too perfect. Especially for a man burdened by my presence.

  “Okay. Good.” She nods and indicates my chair with a wave of her hand. “Please sit. I meant no offense. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Your job?” It's her duty to question the man who saved me? The person who took a bullet to the head, risking his life to rescue a complete stranger? “And who gave you this job?”

  She blinks back at me, those hard features softening. That’s when the puzzle pieces fall into place with a deafening click. She’s not here for me. She’s here for my brother.

  “Sebastian,” I whisper. “This interrogation was requested by him.”

  “I was asked to keep an eye on you.”

  “Well, you can report back and let him know I'm fine. Luca has gone above and beyond to keep me happy.”

  Her lips tweak, her grin sly. “To be honest, I think that's what he’s more worried about.”

  Again, it takes a second for comprehension to dawn, but when it does my cheeks heat at the innuendo. I glance away, my skin prickling.

  “Please,” she repeats. “Sit.”

  I don’t want to. I’d love nothing more than to walk away. If only I wasn’t certain it would cause a scene Luca would have to deal with.

  “I had no doubt he would do right by you,” she murmurs as I reluctantly slump into my seat. “He’s a great guy. And from the sound of it, you already know that. But your brother is—”

  “I don’t want to talk about my brother.” I still can’t go there. Can't picture him remaining in the Greek islands, slaying my demons at the risk of his own safety. I need it all to be over. To fast forward through this chasm filled with worry for people I wish I didn’t love.

  “He cares about you.”

  I glance back at her in confusion. “Who does? My brother?”

  “Yes, Decker,” she clarifies. “But Luca, Hunter, Torian, and Keira, too. You’re family, and we always take care of our own.”

&nbs
p; My insides scream at me to deny her. I’m not one of them. I don’t want any association with my torturer’s family.

  I also want to make her well aware I can take care of myself. I had for years while in a situation far more dire than this. I’ve lived through the worst life has to give. Yet I can’t honestly say I’m capable of anything anymore. I’ve lost the will to fight. I’m not sure how to find strength.

  “So, what’s the plan?” she asks. “When are you going to see your parents?”

  I sigh. “Is this another question from my brother? Is there a list I need to get through so you’ll leave me alone?”

  “No. The interrogation is actually for your benefit. I assume you don't want to stay with Luca forever.”

  She assumes wrong. I have no desire to leave.

  “You really do like staying here.” She states as fact. As if she’s finally beginning to understand the truth of my comfort. “If you’re comfortable in your surroundings, why aren’t you opening up to Luca? Let him in. Clearly you don’t want to talk to me, and I get it—I’m an acquired taste. But you need to speak to someone. It isn’t healthy to keep the past bottled.”

  How does she know I’ve kept it bottled? Unless Luca told her. Vented to her.

  “Believe me,” she continues. “You have to let it out before it eats you alive.”

  She has no idea.

  There’s no way anyone could understand what I’ve been through. Not a shrink. Not even the other women who accompanied me in Luther’s cage. And definitely not this woman.

  “Your thoughts are loud.” She gives a brief smirk. “And yes, you’re right. I have no concept of what you must have gone through. But I know about monumental loss. And utter helplessness. Not to mention the cloying anger and suffocating grief that come afterward.” She holds my gaze, never letting go. “Those types of situations change you irrevocably, no matter how much you want to return to the person you once were. So ask Luca for help. Trust him. You never know—the guy might have something smart to say for once.”