Worship (Sinful Series Book 2)

by Trilina Pucci

  “Jesus. She doesn’t know what he’ll do to her.” The words come out with the thought.

  “She does now. He roughed her up pretty good and left her here. You should come and get her. I didn’t know who to call.”

  My jaw is so tense that my teeth might break. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for doing this.

  “I’m on my way.”

  I hang up the phone, and Gretchen grabs at my wrists as I begin to walk away to pull on my jeans.

  “What the fuck is happening?” Her eyes are angry and afraid all at once as she puts her clothes back on too.

  “Go home. Call me when you’re there. I’ll explain later.” I don’t want to do this with her right now.

  She shakes her head.

  “Fuck you. You think I’m not coming? I heard the call. You aren’t going there alone.”

  “Jesus, Gretchen.” I let out an exasperated breath, pulling my T-shirt over my head. “I’m not taking you to a goddamn sex club to help me collect my battered wife off the floor.”

  She needs to see reason.

  “Well, I’m not giving you a choice. And frankly, if she’s been battered, she may not want you either…she’s clearly been through some shit. I may be a better alternative. And I’m not asking, Luca.” She walks past me to the door and opens it. “Let’s go.”

  For the first time in my life, I give in. Gretchen Andrews is not just the woman I love but my equal.

  WE PULL UP TO THE club, and Luca exits the car first.

  He leans in to speak with George while extending his hand to me. I take it, unfolding from the SUV, and stand beside him as the two men continue their conversation. I want to pay attention, but it’s hard to focus.

  The front of the building is so elegant but also ordinary. It blends with its environment, but I imagine people often comment on the curb appeal.

  A couple walks by on the dimly lit sidewalk, and it’s not until they pass that I notice the man is wearing a gold chain around his neck with a long, thin extension. It’s a leash. She has him on a leash. Holy hell.

  The woman stops and looks over her shoulder at me and winks. I stare a bit too long out of curiosity before bringing my head back to the conversation. As George walks away, I look up at Luca, and he’s clearly intrigued by my reaction. He brings his lips to my ear.

  “I’ll bring you back so you can taste all the flavors and choose your favorite, baby.”

  His voice speaks directly to my center. Being commando isn’t helping with rational thought either. Jesus this place has an effect, even from the street.

  Luca lets go of my hand to place his on the small of my back.

  “No wandering, Angel. Stay close to me, and don’t talk to strangers.”

  His warning makes me smile as we walk up the stairs.

  The doors are opened by security before we reach them. Luca walks us through, not breaking stride.

  We pass through the entry and into an expansive room with a bar and seating areas. It feels like a bar you’d see in some old movie, frequented by glamourous movie stars. The dark woods and deep red velvets accompanied by the very low lighting make it feel sensual and secretive. The pockets of shadows make it easy to explore all the dirty little fantasies.

  I can see why they call this place Church; everyone here is devoted to sin. It’s thick in the air, and it’s heady. I’ve been wet since the minute we walked through the door.

  A man walks directly toward us, but I don’t really see him. Instead, I notice everything he passes. A couple in a lip-lock, blocking out the world. Two men standing face-to-face, having a conversation with a woman between them.

  I blink my eyes a few times, my breathing increasing. One man has a hand on her breast, and the other has a hand lost up her skirt. Her face looks tortured, the kind of sweet torture that derives from the need to come.

  I can’t take me eyes off them until I feel Luca reach down and take my hand.

  “Matteo, where is she?” Luca asks. Oh, Matteo. Jesus, Shelby.

  My head snaps back into focus, and I tug my hand gently from his, suddenly concerned with propriety. I don’t want to kick Shelby while she’s down. And frankly, I need some air. This place is making me suffocate on desire.

  Luca’s face shoots to mine, and he takes my hand in his again. He’s angry.

  “She came to my business and fucked my uncle in front of everyone I know. I think I can hold your hand. Yeah?” His tone is harsh.

  He’s different than the Luca I’ve come to know. This one’s meaner, and although I know it’s the stress over what’s happening, I’m not that girl. It’s better he learns the lesson now.

  I look down at our joined hands and back to him.

  “You can watch your fucking tone with me.” I raise my eyebrows, and he immediately smirks. “And yes, I get it. If you want to hold my hand, I’m not telling you no. But next time, I might bite. Yeah?” I throw his words back at him.

  He nods, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Forgive me, Angel?”

  “Only because you’re cute.” I smile, accepting his apology.

  Luca turns his attention back to a very surprised Matteo.

  “Answer me. I asked you a question.” Dick. I squeeze his hand.

  “Sorry, yeah…downstairs. The one with the belts.”

  I watch Luca’s face visibly pain.

  “Has anyone spoken to her since you called me?” Luca’s voice is cold.

  “No, she just wanted to see you. She just keeps asking for you.”

  Matteo’s eyes shift to me, and he looks apologetic. It’s harder to hear than I expected. I would never tell him not to help, but deep down, I don’t want him to. That realization makes me feel like a monster.

  Luca turns to me and pulls me into him, staring into my eyes.

  “This is when you have to choose to trust me, Angel. Are you listening?” I nod. “Sempre, Angel.” His voice is soothing and calm, which is the opposite of what I’m feeling.

  I’m sending him in to care for the woman he’s married to, to be the shoulder she needs to lean on. I can get past the envy I feel; it’s the hatred that’s rocking me. I hate her, and I’m not sure what I’m capable of if she makes a play for what’s mine, regardless of her circumstance. What am I becoming?

  I look into Luca’s eyes and nod my understanding. For a moment, I fear that he sees my worry, but instead of questioning, he kisses my forehead and walks past me toward the stairs that lead down to the private rooms.

  “Gretchen, right?” Matteo speaks to the back of my head because I haven’t taken my eyes off where Luca disappeared.

  Swiveling my head back, I stare at him for a moment and then begin walking to the bar. “Buy me a really stiff drink, Matteo.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He jogs to catch up with me, and I snag a barstool and perch on it.

  “Double gin and tonic, two limes,” I say to the bartender, who quickly gets to work making my request.

  Matteo sits next to me, and I feel as awkward as he looks. I try for polite conversation first.

  “So, how long have you known Luca?”

  The bartender serves Matteo a water as he sets a skeleton key on the counter.

  “Most of my life. It’s crazy to think that I used to follow him and Dom around the neighborhood when they were all of fifteen and I was only around eight.”

  A look of surprise graces my face.

  “You were eight? Your parents didn’t mind you hanging out without supervision? What if some horrible person tried to hurt you?”

  Matteo laughs.

  “Gretchen, my father, their fathers, all of our fathers—they’re the horrible people. We’re untouchable. Especially Luca.”

  “Why Luca?” I lean in, curious.

  He shakes his head, unwilling to answer, opting instead for a sip of his water.

  “Okay.” I eye him and then the key on the counter. “What’s that for?”

  “You ask a lot of questions,” he fires back, pointing to the drink in front
of me.

  “I do. Are you going to answer any of them?” I laugh, and he shrugs a maybe.

  “This,” he says, picking up the intricate piece of metal, “is the key to gain entry to the downstairs. I took it from Shelby. Each key has a serial number, so I can look up who gave her the key. Gio doesn’t have one. Luca would never allow it.”

  A woman approaches us as I take a long swallow of my drink. I hear Matteo call her Sarah and recognize the name from conversations with Drew. He’s facing her, and their conversation seems tense. I barely process the thought before I act. I reach out and swipe the key off the counter.

  Matteo seems flustered, but Sarah is calm—condescending, but calm. Drew said that Sarah is like a little sister to Dom and Luca. “Alpha” must be a shared personality trait because she is definitely the one calling the shots between her and Matteo.

  I finish my drink, the warmth filling my body but only slightly calming my nerves. I push my glass away and notice Sarah staring directly at me. Her expression is tight, and I see the judgment. Sarah doesn’t like me. I don’t give a shit.

  “Can you tell me where the ladies’ room is?” I ask the two of them.

  Sarah points a finger. “Just over there. I can show you?” No, thanks.

  “I’m sure I can find my way,” I remark, sliding off the stool and walking toward the restroom.

  I look over my shoulder, and neither are looking in my direction, so I change direction and make a beeline for downstairs.

  I show my stolen key to the guard, hoping he doesn’t somehow know what I did, and he lets me in. I walk down the stairs, each step harder to take than the one before. I don’t know what to expect.

  The darkness envelops me, and my eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the light produced by the wall sconces. I walk down a long hallway and past door after door. I don’t know which door Luca is behind. I stand in the hallway and look around, wondering what to do. I lay my ear to one of the doors, but I hear nothing. Should I knock on them? No.

  What am I doing? This might be the strangest situation I’ve ever been involved in. I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. Fuck, no service. I can’t even text him. Letting out a sigh, I turn to walk back to the upstairs when I notice a door ajar.

  Walking over slowly, I touch the handle and call out, “Hello?” No response, so I push the door open farther and walk inside. Blair’s words come back into my mine. “I would highly recommend the rooms downstairs.”

  The lights in the room are dimmed but it looks like a regular room. There’s a bed and a couch, both facing a wall, which is odd. It actually seems unfinished. I’m disappointed. I was expecting some Fifty Shades kind of kink: whips, chains, that cross thingy.

  The room’s not even red. All I get is a bed and couch. I walk to the couch and sit down, starting to feel emotionally exhausted. This day has been a roller coaster. Relaxing my head on the back of the sofa, I close my eyes and just breathe.

  A muffled voice presses into the space.

  “Let me make you feel good.”

  My head shoots up in shock at the woman’s voice, and I look around the room. I know I’m alone, but I’m surprised by it. The noise sounds like I’m hearing it through the wall.

  “Please, I’m sorry. Punish me, hate me—just keep me.”

  The desperation in her voice rings loud and clear even with the distortion. Someone’s into role-playing. It feels scandalous to listen in, but I’m so far out of my element in this place that I can’t help myself. I scoot to the edge of the couch, interested.

  “Beg.”

  A man’s voice. The commanding tone in his words make me squirm. It’s hot.

  I walk to the wall and press my ear against it, placing my hand beside my face. I can barely hear them now. They must have walked farther away. I press my ear closer, and my fingers brush a bump on the wall.

  A low vibration makes me jump, and I take a few steps back, taking in what’s happening. Wow. It’s not a wall—it’s a window, except not. I can see two figures, but the glass is frosted, so I can’t really see them.

  This room just shot to epic sexy levels. I feel caught, nervous, because I’m not meant to be here, so I pull to the corner of the room, using the shadows as my friend. I should leave, but I’m riveted by the scene playing out in front of me.

  The woman is on her knees, and the man towers over her.

  “Please. Let me suck you.”

  Her hands reach for his waist, and he swats them away, but she tries again. He pushes her away with more force, but she goes back again. He’s making her work for it. This time I hear the sound of his pants being opened, and my heart speeds up.

  My thighs press together at what I’m watching. He grabs the back of her hair and her head shoots back. My fingers dig into my thighs. I should leave, but there’s something about what’s happening that has my feet planted in place. I’m remembering Luca from earlier tonight.

  “I want to make you come. Make you feel so damn good. I can make you feel that way—nobody else,” she pleads as the man pulls her to her feet.

  The man’s voice booms through the room.

  “Is that what you want? You want me to feed my cock into that dirty little mouth? Make you suck me until you choke? Make you swallow me down?”

  “Yes.” The words fall from both the woman’s mouth and mine at the same time.

  There’s silence, except for my ragged breathing. Is he going to make her suck him off? Is he going to fuck her? A soft breathy moan escapes my lips while I wait with her to find out her fate.

  “Luca, take me.”

  My fingers reach to my lips as if I’m the one who said the words and not her. Those aren’t my words. But his name is mine to say. I don’t understand; my mind struggles to process what’s happening.

  Then it hits me all at once. My head starts to shake, and I break from the shadow I’m hiding in and walk directly to the wall of glass. My eyes search the room, and against the wall I see the set of buttons I hit to reveal the glass the first time. So, I start pressing all of them rapidly. And the glass goes clear.

  His eyes meet mine at that very moment.

  Luca is standing over Shelby, her hands on his chest and his buckle undone, his face full of regret.

  Bile rises in my throat.

  He told me he would ruin me. He said he wouldn’t be there to comfort me when I felt ashamed. But he never warned me that he would lie to me. He could never love me and do this. Luca King only loves himself.

  FUCK! MY MIND IS RACING. How did she get down here? How did she know what room I was in? How do I explain this? She has to trust me. She’ll never believe me. I won’t entertain the alternative.

  I shove Shelby aside and race to the door, and the moment I throw it open, Gretchen is staring back at me from the room she’s exiting. We’re frozen for only a moment, until she slowly moves from her door, allowing it to close. Her eyes never break from mine. We’re in a standoff, and one misstep, one wrong answer, could make her cut and run.

  My voice is cautious, unnerved by the quiet rage she’s emanating.

  “Trust me, Angel. You need to trust me.”

  By the look on her face, that was not what she wanted to hear.

  She shakes her head, backing away from me. Her arms hug her body, and I see her hands trembling.

  “I’ll never trust you. I know what I saw, Luca. I saw what you were doing with her.”

  “You don’t understand. I love you, Gretchen,” I coax, tilting my head to try and keep her eyes to mine.

  When she looks at me, it’s fierce.

  “Your love takes and takes.” Her voice is strained and raw. “I hate you with everything left inside of me.”

  My jaw tenses. I can feel how much I’ve hurt her, and I want to take it all back, but I can’t.

  Shelby grabs my arm from inside the room, her profile peeking out from the door. She’s a fucking bitch—she wants Gretchen to see her. My hand squeezes the wood, wishing it was her throat, as
she speaks seductively.

  “Luca, why are you leaving me? Let me finish what I started…”

  My head snaps to her, and I rip my arm from her, looking at her with a disgusted expression.

  “If you cost me Gretchen, if your bullshit causes her to walk away, I’ll make sure I ruin you for anyone who would ever want you. Call my bluff,” I threaten.

  Shelby’s eyes grow wide as saucers, and she immediately backs up into the room as I shut the door. I bring my attention back to Gretchen.

  “It’s bullshit. Don’t listen to her.”

  She’s looking at me like she would a complete stranger. Shocked and disturbed. But I guess I am a stranger, like this, to her.

  “Who are you? It’s not her fault you fucked up. This is on you,” Gretchen sneers.

  I stand stoically.

  “If you loved me like you say, you would fucking trust me.” It’s falling apart, and I can’t stop it.

  “Give me a reason to call my eyes liars. Go ahead,” she challenges.

  Her mind is made up. No matter what I say, she’s decided. I see all the doubts becoming facts and her beliefs becoming regrets.

  “Angel, it’s complicated but…” I barely get my words out before she throws her arms in the air and cuts me off.

  “Complicated?” She begins to laugh. “Complicated is a long-distance relationship. Complicated isn’t fucking a married man. The most twisted part is that I don’t have the right to be angry at you for getting sucked off by your wife.”

  Her face is a mask of anger as she says the last part.

  My heart feels like it’s stopped beating. An hour ago, I looked into her eyes and saw a man that was brought to life by her love. Now I see one reflected back at me, that I see from every other goddamn person in my life. The monster I am. I can’t look anymore, choosing the ground instead, my words escaping my lips, broken and desperate.

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what? Telling the truth?” she answers.