Lucca (Made Men Book 4)

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Lucca (Made Men Book 4) Page 17

by Sarah Brianne


  Staring at Lucca now, the devil’s voice disappeared and she began to unfreeze. Now she was trying desperately to get away from him, away from his touch. Trying her best to fight him.

  “Stop it!” Lucca commanded. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Why do you have it!” she screamed. “Why do you have the ring?” Ghost tears tried to fall down her face as she struggled against him, not wanting to believe he could have had something to do with what had happened to her.

  “I took it off the man who bro—”

  “You’re lying!” she cried out, still without the tears, though they desperately wanted to be there. It explained how he knew everything about her.

  Pulling her to him, he held her body with one arm while grabbing ahold of her face with his free hand, making her look into her eyes.

  “Look at me.” His voice became melodic and strong. “No, I’m not. I would never lie to you.”

  Closing her eyes, she let him hold her to him fully now as she pressed her face into his chest.

  She didn’t have to see the truth; her heart could feel it, knowing he couldn’t have been involved. It was the scared little girl who had been living in her for almost four years now who had needed the reassurance. The scared little girl who had screamed for someone like Lucca to save her that night … only for no one to come. The scared little girl who now had her savior and was petrified to even think about losing him.

  Thirty-Six

  As He Took the Sight of the Other

  Lucca dragged the body, taking him to the steel pipe that was in the back corner of the room.

  “WWWhere a-am I?”

  The fucker wasn’t dead, but he was fucking close to it.

  The sound of metal chains echoed throughout the dark, cold concrete room.

  “WWhat are yyou doing?” he cried, trying to lift his body unsuccessfully.

  A loud snap followed by something locking in place silenced the room.

  Staring down at the broken man who had passed out, Lucca gave a yank to the chain that locked his ankle to the pipe.

  “OWWWW! Whhhat do you want from mee?” More tears fell from his eyes.

  “Who were you looking for?”

  “I ddon’t know.”

  Another yank to the chain pulled at his shattered leg, making him wail in pain.

  “Who were you looking for?”

  “I ddon’t know!”

  Lucca squatted next to the man, noticing a gold ring on his finger. Pulling out his knife, he grabbed the man’s hand then spread his fingers open before placing the blade right under his ring.

  “Now—”

  The man began repeating, “Please don’t.”

  “—tell me who you were looking for in the penthouse.”

  “I ccan’t tell yyou!”

  Lucca sliced into his finger, cutting deeply.

  “SSScars!” the man screamed, and Lucca immediately stopped, relieving the man from his pain. “The girl with the ssscars.”

  Lucca stared down at him. “That so?”

  “Yes.” He took a thankful breath.

  “Unfortunately”—he sliced into his finger again—“you came after the one who’s mine.”

  Now that he was sawing into the bone, the screams that filled the air only grew louder … until the man passed out cold.

  Pulling the ring off the now chopped off finger, Lucca wiped at the blood, revealing the diamond’s surrounding the horseshoe …

  Staring down at the horseshoe ring, Lucca put it back in his pocket to look at the frail, malnourished Italian man who no longer resembled himself. His hair and beard were matted and long; burns, scars, and bruises now riddled his body; and most of his teeth had been removed, along with all of the nails on his toes and nine fingers.

  Lucca stalked toward the man chained up in the corner. “You lied to me. You said you weren’t there that night.”

  Shaking his head, the man tried to scoot into the corner as much as he could. “No, no, no, Mr. Caruso, sir.”

  “She remembered your ring,” he warned.

  His face morphed into pure terror, his hands coming together in prayer. “I cccann expllaiin, sir. Pleaseee, let me explain.”

  Pulling out a cigarette, Lucca held it between his lips as he took out his lighter and let the glow burn the end. “Go on.”

  “The ffffirst night you told me she was yourss, if I told you I wwwas there the night she got her scars, you would have killlled me. Thennn I would have been no good to you, sir. I did it for youuu, sir.”

  Lucca held the cigarette between his lips as he reached out and grabbed the chain, pulling it with all his strength and bringing his captive to him, flattening him like a pancake.

  The man hit his head hard on the concrete, unable to move his fragile and tormented body.

  Squatting down besides the man’s head, Lucca then held open his right eye, not letting him blink, while he took the cigarette out of his mouth with his other hand and hovered the burning end over the eyeball.

  “Did you lie to me about anything else?” he demanded.

  The weak man tried to move but couldn’t. “NOOO! I swear!”

  “You’re right”—Lucca brought the burning stick closer to the eye he held open so tightly it looked like it was about to pop out at any second—“I would have killed you.”

  Shoving the cigarette down, he smashed it into the man’s pupil until it no longer burned, using his eye as an ashtray.

  Only Lucca and the concrete walls laid witness to how a man’s screams sounded when he went blind in one eye. And then again, a few moments later … as he took the sight of the other.

  Thirty-Seven

  This Time Felt Different, More … Final.

  Chloe sat on Lucca’s bed, holding her knees to her chest and rocking herself back and forth. The pit in her stomach had only grown since her nightmare this morning, making her sick. The air around her felt heavy, making her suffocate. She could feel something coming. Something very bad was about to happen, and she was afraid her fate would be fatal this time.

  The horseshoe ring, along with the devil’s ominous black eyes, wouldn’t leave her mind.

  He’s coming for me … He promised.

  Drago was alerted to a presence on the security monitors. A car was pulling into the long driveway. It had a sign on top of the vehicle, showing it was food delivery. He hadn’t ordered anything, so he quickly called Lucca to see if he had. However, the call went straight to voicemail, his signal most likely blocked from where he was.

  When the car stopped in front of the house and a man in uniform got out with a pizza bag, he figured Lucca had ordered it to feed Chloe since she hadn’t eaten anything and he was most likely going to be gone for a while.

  Getting up, he headed toward the door and got to it just as the delivery guy knocked.

  He cracked open the door with his hand on his pistol at his lower back, seeing the uniformed man holding the pizza bag.

  “Delivery for Lucca Caruso.”

  Drago nodded then pulled his hand from his pistol, opening the door wider.

  The delivery man placed his hand inside the bag …

  POP.

  When the shot fired through the bag, Drago realized his grave mistake.

  Going for his gun, he took a step toward the man, when …

  POP.

  Both shots had hit him in the chest before his gun was at his side.

  Lifting up the gun, he saw now that other men had gotten out of the car, all holding guns.

  POP.

  He pulled the trigger, but his aim wasn’t true as a bullet lodged itself deep in his own arm.

  Knowing he wasn’t going to make it, his only hope was to warn her.

  “Chloe, hide!” his voice boomed.

  POP.

  Refusing to go down, he went to tackle the man.

  POP.

  Drago’s body slumped to the floor as his mind began to fog. He had failed.

  I’m sorry … Chlo—
/>   When Chloe heard the loud noises, she held herself tighter.

  “Chloe, hide!” she heard Drago’s muffled yell.

  She moved a millimeter before a familiar voice spoke to her, freezing her in place.

  Stay still, little girl …

  More shots rang out before there was only silence.

  … Or it’ll just hurt worse.

  A tear fell from her eye. A real, single wet tear touched her cheek.

  The door slowly creaked open, and the figure of a man stood in the doorway. He looked just how he had four years ago, like he had come out of her nightmare, his black eyes still glowing with evil.

  She closed her eyes. Chloe, wake up and everything will be okay.

  “I’ve missed you, little girl.”

  Lucca walked out of the place he held his captive prisoner, waiting for his sins to wash away once the fresh air hit him, like they always did. This time, however, they didn’t, and his heart sunk deep as the feeling he and Chloe shared began to fissure, telling him something terrible was happening.

  Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he saw he had a missed call from Drago. Quickly, he called him back.

  ANSWER!

  There was no answer.

  Now running to his car, he called Sal, who picked up on the first ring.

  “House, now!” was all he said before he hung up, throwing himself into his Cadillac and starting up his car.

  Sal would be able to see what was happening on his computer. He would be able to help and assess the situation since he was closer to the house.

  Lucca drove at breakneck speeds. He was too far away from the house. Too far away from Chloe once again. This was now the third time this wretched, hopeless feeling had taken over his body.

  However, this time felt different, more … final.

  Stay with me, Chloe. Please don’t leave me.

  He’d had her now, tasted her, felt her. Living even this short amount of time with her, he knew one thing for certain.

  I won’t be able to live without you.

  Thirty-Eight

  Pressing Play

  Lucca’s heart shattered into a billion and one fucking pieces the moment he stepped into his house and saw Sal’s sullen face, along with the blood covering the entrance to his family home. The darkness instantly rose, demanding to go after her that second, but Sal calmed him, telling him he needed to find out first where they took her, along with devising a plan to get her out safely.

  Lucca asked to see the security tapes of what exactly happened, wanting to see it himself instead of being told. Then he watched every part of it: Drago fighting as he went down, and how Chloe simply sat there, too fucking afraid to even move.

  It was clear there was only one person at fault. Me.

  He took responsibility for everything: not being there to protect her himself, needing retribution after the look on Chloe’s face this morning and what she had told him. She had said that one of Lucifer’s men, who had held her down, had worn the ring while Lucifer had marked her body repeatedly.

  Lucca had held her for a while until she had calmed, while the darkness had only grown inside of him. Then, afraid the darkness would blow at any second and not wanting to hurt her or force her into something she didn’t want, he had left. He had needed to take it out on the same man who had held her down while she had been tormented.

  Raking his fingers through his overgrown hair that had reached the nape of his neck, he couldn’t understand it. He had been so careful …

  Then it occurred to him. The only thing he hadn’t planned. Amo…

  Sal’s voice cut through his thoughts. “They are still working on Drago, but they say it doesn’t look like he will make it.”

  Fuck! Drago was one of their best. Lucca needed him more than ever right now, but instead, he lay there, dying on a fucking emergency room table because of Lucca’s stupidity.

  “There’s something else …” The sorrow in Sal’s voice became more evident. “Lucifer left this.”

  Lucca stared at the disk his friend held out to him. “What is it?”

  “You’ll want to watch it … alone.”

  The moment he took the disk from Sal’s hands, the sinking feeling returned. He knew what the disk held would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  Sal was no longer able to even look at Lucca as he headed out the door to give him some privacy, telling him, “I only watched a few minutes of it before I had to turn it off.”

  Staring down at the disk, Lucca shakily put it in the computer. A sick feeling coming to his stomach, his finger wavered over the play button.

  If she lived it, I can watch it.

  Pressing play meant changing his life forever …

  Thirty-Nine

  A Living, Breathing Nightmare

  Four Years Ago…

  Thump.

  What was that? Looking at the clock on her nightstand, Chloe saw that her parents wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours. She was still shaken up from the beating Elle had taken at school, so she told herself it was messing with her mind.

  Turning off the lamp, she snuggled back under the blankets, her brain still filled with the images of Elle lying on the pavement, until she fell back asleep.

  Her sleep didn’t last long before a hand covering her mouth woke her up to a living, breathing nightmare.

  She struggled against the dark figure, but it didn’t last long. A hard force knocked her out cold …

  Her body being slammed down on a table had her jolting awake. A scream escaped her as she saw men surrounding her in an unfamiliar room.

  A tall, slender, older man with black hair and matching black eyes seemed to be the one in charge as two of his men held each of her arms while a third one held her feet.

  An evil twist to his lips appeared before he ordered, “Take off her shirt.”

  “NO!” Chloe struggled even harder against the men, her tears blurring her vision. She was shocked by how fast her tears had been created before they could even fall.

  Despite her best efforts, the two men who were holding her arms ripped off her shirt, exposing her bra.

  “Please, please!” she begged, praying they would release her as they removed her shirt completely.

  A flash of gold on one of the man’s fingers crossed her vision as he grabbed at her shirt. It was a huge horseshoe diamond ring that she was sure to never forget.

  The man who was apparently the leader approached her with a blade, his eyes skimming over her. She felt so small in that moment. Disgusting … Worthless … Tainted as they all stared down at her exposed skin.

  Why is this happening to me?

  The cold metal table underneath her was a stark contrast to her burning face from what seemed like pointless crying.

  “Please! Stop!” No amount of kicking and fighting was a match for what felt like millions of hands holding her down.

  The laughter from the evil man who held the knife rang through her ears mockingly.

  “Stay still, little girl”—he drew the knife closer to her face—“or it’ll just hurt worse.”

  Looking at his abnormally large, black eyes, she was sure she was looking into the eyes of the devil.

  The silver blade inched closer and closer to her right eye until it was mere centimeters from her pupil.

  “Don’t blink.”

  A tear welled up in her eye, making it even harder to keep her eyes open. Her body began to tremble. She was going to blink.

  “Don’t blink, little girl,” he warned again.

  The tear fell, and her eyes started to close … God help me!

  The second her quivering lids shut, she felt the cold knife pierce her skin above her right eyebrow. It sunk deep and true, causing a shrill sound unlike any she had ever released to fill the air around them.

  The pain only grew worse as he dragged the blade down her skin slowly, painfully. He then released the pressure on her skin, only for him to dig it back in right under her eye and be
gin it all over again.

  Her shrill screams filled the space once more. However, the struggle in her was dying as she became too weak.

  Lifting up the knife, this time he held her face roughly, shushing her screams while he cut a line down the right side of her lips.

  When he pulled away again, letting her come up for air, the adrenaline she had used to fight was now gone.

  As her blood trickled down her face and burned into her skin, she knew she would never forget the feeling when her tears met the blood to scorch paths of bloody tears down her face.

  “Please, just kill …” It was hard for her to whisper her plea through her hoarse voice, but she had to try, hoping for mercy.

  The maniac began to laugh while he caressed the edge of the blade over her skin. “Little girl, this is only the beginning.”

  Closing her eyes, another tear fell, mixing with the hot blood. Mercy wasn’t going to be given tonight, leaving her with one final hope. To be saved.

  The knife pierced her skin over and over as he cut into one arm … then her other arm … then her stomach. The agony and torture only continued. With every single cut that was given, she could feel him lay claim to her.

  Heavy, cumbersome chains were placed on her body with each mark, her mind with each evil laugh she heard, and her soul with each time she heard the words “little girl.” They wound and wound around her, pulling tighter and tighter …

  Eyes beginning to blink slowly, she could feel herself drifting off now, the pain becoming too much to bear.

  Her one final hope of being saved from the devil had disappeared. No one was coming to save her. And if someone did, it was too far past late. To save her now would mean that someone worse would have to take her soul from the devil and claim it as their own. However, a man like that shouldn’t—wouldn’t exist. And if he did, that wouldn’t be saving her at all …

 

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