by Eden Summers
12
Penny
He’s been true to his word.
He walked away without looking back and kept me at arm’s length.
I’m not sure if it was another ploy, but the unspoken threat of being sent to live with Sebastian was enough encouragement to move my ass out of the pit of despair.
It’s not that I don’t love my brother. Not that I don’t miss him. I’m just not ready to face my old life.
There’s still overwhelming agony when I think of loving someone and being loved in return. For unending months, everything I cared about was not only stripped from me but tortured. Brutalized. Murdered.
One by one, my sisters were taken away through my entire stay in Greece. And even after my tormentor was killed, more women were stolen from me.
Chloe died. Abi, too.
It’s far easier to keep my vulnerabilities at bay.
So instead of living in fear of being sent to stay with my brother, I focused on my health. Mental and physical. I didn’t even dwell on the kiss.
At least not to begin with.
I put my mistake with Luca to the back of my mind and exercised. I ran and used the weight equipment.
I cleaned the destruction from my room and filled the wall dents, sanding them back to smooth perfection with supplies I found in his shed.
I unpacked the phone he gave me and watched online videos to learn more self-defense moves. I even used his credit card to order more clothes that wouldn’t hang off me. I ordered extra underwear, too.
But each hour became lonelier with Luca’s avoidance, and the memory of that kiss grew legs to run circles around every thought I had. Especially at night.
I started seeking him out after the first day—exercising at the same time he did, disturbing him when he stayed in his room to watch television.
It became obvious how my strength grew when I was around him. How my smile became easy and my heartbeats quickened.
He feels a change, too. I can see it in the tension coiling itself around him whenever he notices me. In the lingering eyes and three feet of space he keeps between us at all times.
Tonight is different though.
He stalked into the kitchen around dusk, dressed in charcoal jeans and a black shirt, his hair styled to cover his scar.
I place down the self-help book I’m reading, already on edge, as he pulls groceries from the fridge and starts to chop zucchini with heavy strokes of the blade.
I rise from the sofa, hating how he doesn’t look at me as I approach to stop on the opposite side of the island counter. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” He continues to chop, throwing onion and carrot into a wok. “I scrub up okay.”
His appearance is far beyond okay. His demeanor, too.
He’s solid strength and exuberant power.
“You’re going out?” I hide the hint of unease in my voice. “Am I meant to be going with you?”
“No. I’m flying solo.”
I knew this day would come. He couldn’t trap himself in here with me forever. I just always envisaged he’d drag me along by his side.
“I know you don’t want to leave the house,” he continues. “So Hunt and Sarah are on their way over. They’ll keep you company while I’m gone.”
My stomach hollows. The painful stab of fear slices between my ribs, piercing my heart. The betrayal does, too. “Hunter’s back?”
“And your brother. They flew in early this morning.” Finally, he meets my gaze, the intensity in his features welcomed and unwanted at the same time. “Decker wants to see you tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”
I blink through the whiplash.
Everything is changing.
His gaze narrows. “Don’t look so worried. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s a shock to know I’ll be here without you.” Without your security. Your comfort.
“I won’t be gone long.” He chops more vegetables as the wok sizzles. “A few hours at most. And you’ll be safe while I’m out.”
I hate this. For all the hope the kiss gave me, I wish I could take it back because it’s driving him further and further away.
“Is this for work?” I ask. “Now that Hunter and Sebastian are back, does it mean you’ll be leaving the house more often?”
“No, not yet.” He keeps chopping, those arm muscles working overtime. “I just need to get out of the house, shorty. That’s all. I’ve got things I have to take care of.”
He’s running. From me.
He walks for the fridge and claims a packet of raw beef strips as the doorbell rings.
“Could you get that?” He glances at me over his shoulder. “It’s Sarah.”
My heart pangs.
I don’t want her here.
I don’t want Luca to leave me.
“Pen?” He closes the fridge door and returns to the island counter. “Can you get the door so I don’t ruin your dinner?”
I nod, taking slow steps backward. “Sure.”
I take off, my head reeling by the time I check the peephole and pull open the door.
“Howdy.” Sarah walks inside without invitation.
“Yeah, what she said.” Hunt juts his chin at me. “How’s things?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer as he follows her down the hall, leaving me to lock the door behind them.
I don’t want this. I don’t.
But I’m unsure how to get Luca to stay.
I creep back down the hall, stopping before the entry to the open living area to listen to the murmured conversation.
“Let her do her own thing,” Luca says. “Don’t crowd her. I won’t be gone long.”
“You only need two minutes, right?” Hunt asks.
“Very funny. I’ll probably be out for a few hours. Three at the most.”
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” It’s Sarah this time, her voice filled with concern. “You don’t want to think it over?”
“I’m not thinking about it anymore. This needs to be done.”
Dread creeps into my stomach, growing with the blossoming silence.
I enter the room, all eyes turning to me as I pad my bare feet against the cold tile.
“Well, I’m going to make myself at home.” Hunter places his keys and wallet on the kitchen counter, then heads for the sofa. “No chick flicks tonight.”
“Is that so?” Sarah winks at me and follows after him. “I have a feeling you’re going to be outnumbered, big guy.”
I ignore them as I return to the island counter, noting the increased tension in Luca’s posture as the television blares to life.
Something’s wrong. Something that makes it hard for him to look at me.
“Is everything all right?” I keep my voice low, not wanting to be overheard. “I’m worried.”
“Don’t worry.” He gives a half-hearted grin and shovels a scoop of stir-fry into a bowl. “Enjoy the time without me.”
I thought I’d feared leaving the house, but the more the minutes tick by, the more I’ve come to realize that it isn’t these four walls. It’s Luca. He’s the sanctuary. “Can’t I come with you?”
He bristles, the kind expression vanishing. “Not this time.”
“Why?”
He fills another bowl and another, placing them at the far edge of the counter. “Dinner’s up,” he announces to the room and sidesteps, grabbing forks from the cutlery drawer before handing one over. “There’s things I need to do, and I can’t have you with me.”
“Because it’s dangerous?”
He cringes. “No. It’s…” He shoves a hand through his hair as Hunter and Sarah approach and grab their dinner. He doesn’t speak again until they’re resettled on the sofa. “It’s just something I have to do on my own. You don’t need to stress about it.”
He isn’t telling the truth.
I’ve had enough experience with liars to read them well.
When he stalks t
o the dining table it only proves my point. His gun is on display at the back of his jeans. I know it’s always there. He’s never without it. But that’s to protect me, right? Does he really need a weapon if there’s nothing to worry about?
He grabs a jacket from the back of one of the chairs, pulls it on and walks back toward me.
“Make life hell for them, okay?” He stops at my side, his body stiff as he leans in and places a peck at my temple.
The connection startles me.
After days with little communication and an invisible wall of space between us, the delicate kiss is out of place.
No, it’s guilt in motion.
“If I’m late, don’t wait up.”
Without another word he’s gone, striding away like a determined soldier about to slay his demons, the front door banging shut moments later.
I’m left hollow, staring at the filled bowl of food as my anxiety grows wings.
I don’t know what I’d do if he got hurt. Or worse.
He’s been my constant for weeks. My guiding force. My survival.
I can’t live without him.
I can’t.
The separation solidifies all the questions I’ve had toward my feelings for him. He may not have approved of our first kiss, but I certainly did.
It meant everything to me—hope, strength, new life.
I’m going to tell him, too. When he gets back—if he gets back—I’ll let him know. I won’t be daunted by my feelings anymore.
I’ll do what he’s always wanted. I’ll open up. I’ll talk and talk and talk until he’s sick of hearing my voice.
“Everything okay, Pen?”
Sarah’s question pulls me from my thoughts. She and Hunter are staring at me from the sofa, their movie paused.
“Come over here and have dinner with us.” She waves her fork at me. “It’s actually really good. Who knew that dirt bag could cook?”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” She kneels on the sofa. “Pen? What’s going on?”
“Will he be okay?” I let my fears blurt out. “Is he going to be safe?”
Hunter frowns. “Who? Luca?”
“Yes.”
“That dumbass will be fine.” He forks food into his mouth. “Even if he’s not, an STD or two ain’t gonna kill him.”
“Don’t.” Sarah smacks him on the chest, glaring. “That’s not what she was talking about.”
No, it wasn’t. My thoughts weren’t on STDs at all.
My mind was nowhere near sex.
“He’s joking,” she placates me. “You don’t need to worry about Luca at all. He’ll be home before you know it.”
She gives another warning glance to Hunter, the two of them clearly exchanging a silent communication about me. About Luca.
“I don’t understand.” I steady myself against the counter, my stomach hollowing. “What is he doing exactly?”
“Work,” Sarah offers. “Torian needed him to throw his weight around with a local thug. It’s nothing major.”
“But he told me he wasn’t working.”
She pauses, seeming lost for words.
“I don’t know what the big deal is.” Hunter shovels more food into his mouth. “He’s going out to get laid. And I’d bet good money he’ll only need two minutes. Five if I’m being generous.”
The information hits like a backhand, causing a rush of blood to my cheeks. “He has a girlfriend?”
“No.” Sarah shakes her head rapidly, as if the fast tempo can wave away my heartache. “He doesn’t know the woman. It’s just sex. Nothing more.”
Nothing more.
I keep repeating those words in my mind, praying they dislodge the sense of betrayal.
“Oh, okay.” I paste on a smile and pretend I don’t care. That I’m not being torn apart.
I swallow over the tightness strangling my throat. The same throat his gentle hands stroked only days before with comforting reverence.
He’s going out to have sex. To be with another woman.
I don’t want to picture him that way, I don’t, yet the mental images play on a loop.
I imagine his naked body. His perfect muscles. His expression of rapture. I see him giving pleasure to a beautiful woman, one far prettier than I could ever be.
I hear it.
I feel it.
My insides revolt. Twisting. Turning.
I’m going to be sick.
“You okay?” Sarah pushes to her feet. “Do you want to talk?”
“No.” I wave her away and start toward the hall. “It’s fine. Really. It’s none of my business. I’m just going to read for a while.”
I measure my pace, one foot after the other, forcing myself not to run for the sanctuary of my room.
The thought of Luca’s strong hands on another woman guts me in ways I never imagined. It’s not due to disgust over an act that previously sickened me. It’s not my damaged past making me nauseous.
Strange as it is, the thought of sex doesn’t haunt me. That role is now exclusive to jealousy.
I picture him grinding, thrusting, her head kicked back as she cries out for pleasure I’ve never felt.
I close myself into my private bathroom, tears pricking my eyes.
I can’t stay here. I can’t face him once he returns.
Not after that kiss. Not when the burden I’ve placed upon him was far greater than I ever imagined.
As soon as Hunter returned stateside, Luca left. All this time, he’s wanted freedom.
For sex.
Did he conveniently forget I was a whore?
That my purpose was pleasure?
He should’ve just asked for me to earn my protection. God knows, the only skills I have are when I’m on my back.
I wash my face, the cold chill sweeping away the weakness.
I knew I was a burden to him. I knew. And still, he adamantly denied it.
Lied.
My pulse hammers with anger. With the need to fight. But the person I want to battle with isn’t here.
I return to my room, slide on a pair of sneakers, scoop my hair into a high pony, and tiptoe back into the open living area. Hunter and Sarah are still watching the movie, the sound loud enough to drown out my approach to the kitchen.
“I should check on her.” Sarah pauses the television.
“Why?” Hunter snatches the remote and presses play. “A woman like that isn’t going to be cut up over a guy getting laid. I’m sure the last thing she wants to think about is sex.”
A woman like that.
A damaged, sexually abused woman.
He’s right. Someone like me shouldn’t be gutted at the thought of their protector seeking solace with someone else. My thoughts are just another vicious layer of damage.
“She likes him,” Sarah replies. “If you would’ve seen them together over the last week, you’d agree with me. She’s smitten. And he can’t get away fast enough.”
Oh, God.
I clench my stomach as I reach the island counter, holding in a sob.
I’m a joke. A fucking punchline.
All this time I never knew.
I slide my hand over the marble, my palm covering Hunter’s keychain and the attached car fob.
I have to face my fear of the outside world and escape this fake environment. I’ll take his car. Drive far, far away. Then… I don’t know.
I’ll think of something. All I know is that I can’t stay here.
I drag the treasure toward me, the slightest clink announcing my robbery.
I pause, but it’s too late.
The movie stops and Hunter glances over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
I freeze. Panic. After a lifetime spent lying to protect myself, I’m at a loss for words.
“Penny?” Sarah asks.
I inch my hand behind my hip and shrug. “I thought I felt hungry. But now that food is in front of me I’ve changed my mind again.” I give a chuckl
e that sounds too brittle. “I might take a shower and have an early night instead.”
I slowly retrace my steps toward the hall, not meeting their gazes even though their combined focus burns holes through me.
“Penny,” Hunter grates. “Show me your hands.”
I flinch, my body’s involuntary reaction a glaring red flag as I move closer and closer to the hall.
“Show me your hands,” he repeats, his hulking frame rising from the sofa.
My heart lodges in my throat.
“Penny,” he warns.
I run.
I don’t stop when I hear him curse. I push faster, only pausing to fling open the front door before scampering outside. I sprint across the icy lawn to the huge black suburban parked in the driveway, clicking the buttons on the fob until the indicators flash bright into the fading daylight.
Freedom is within reach. Frightening, isolating freedom.
I yank open the car door as Hunter explodes from the house, Sarah following behind.
“Don’t even think about it,” he yells.
He’s right. The time for thinking is over.
I climb into the tank of a car, tug the door shut, and lock it as both of them barrel toward me.
There’s so much panic. I can’t think straight through my pounding pulse, my shaking limbs.
It’s been years since I sat behind the wheel. Everything is foreign. The push start. My foot on the pedal. I don’t even bother to figure out how to move the seat forward in an effort to help me drive properly. There’s no time.
I press the button ignition. The engine rumbles to life. Hunt reaches my door, tugging at the handle, banging on the window.
“Open up,” he warns. “Get out of my goddamn car.”
“Penny, please,” Sarah tries to soothe me. “We can talk.”
There’s no turning back now. Not when Hunter’s expression bleeds with anger—fierce eyes and snarled teeth.
I shift the car into reverse and press my foot on the accelerator. The car launches, the movement far more vicious than I anticipated.
I squeal, clutching the wheel tight as the vehicle bounces onto the road.
Both of them run after me, Hunter reaching the passenger side to pound on the window with a closed fist, his eyes promising retaliation.
