Warren had several racers whom he mentored, all part of his Cutlass racing team. Many people assumed that Lucia and Warren were a couple because they’d spent so much time together. At first, she’d hoped there might be a spark but as time passed, she realized she wasn’t interested in Warren in that way. She came to think of him as a mentor, an older brother of sorts. With no family of her own, it was easy to fall in with Warren and his crew. She allowed people to make their own assumptions about the nature of her and Warren’s relationship.
Team Cutlass had spent the previous three years racing illegally for cash. Usually racing at night on darkened professional tracks, the team would typically cut in a grounds keeper to grant them access.
Over the expanse of their friendship, Lucia had come to realize that Warren was consumed by the race. He cared little for anything other than the thrill of the sport. He constantly sought to be on the track and often disregarded the consensus of his team when they felt it was too much. Nonetheless, she and the rest of Team Cutlass did as Warren demanded out of sheer respect for his having pulled them into his circle of excitement, family, and money.
Team Cutlass often went to drastic measures to ensure that a member of their team—usually Warren—won any race, but what happened on the track a mere four weeks ago was as cut-throat a race as Lucia had ever experienced. The team they were racing…Draken’s team, was known as the Furies, and had been just barely off the lead when the wreck had occurred.
It was well known on the racing circuit that Draken and Warren despised each other. No one knew when the bitter rivalry had begun or why, but all of Europe knew of the contentious relationship.
As was usual during the race, Team Cutlass began the race aggressively, ebbing out the competition and ending the first lap with Warren in the lead. Draken was in a close second with Lucia third, and two other members of Team Cutlass holding spots four and five followed by the remaining Furies. The race seemed straight forward, with Team Cutlass prepared at any moment to do their dirtiest to prevent any of The Furies from advancing, but something about the competition didn’t feel right to Lucia. Warren was agitated prior to the race, almost nervous which was highly unusual but the team just attributed it to the fact that they were racing the Furies and that Warren’s rivalry with Draken was the source of his unease.
The races typically went at least ten laps. Ten laps then whichever team finished with one of their cars in first place took the prize. Simple as that. The prize was money, and plenty of it.
Team Cutlass usually fared well in these races because a great deal of the teams they raced were rich kids looking for a thrill and had the money to waste but possessed no real experience. The Furies weren’t one of those teams. The Furies were known as the best team on the circuit. Their team was consistent, their leader was consistent, and their wins were consistent.
Lucia couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong that day, or why her own teammate had stopped so abruptly in front of her to cause the horrific accident that had very nearly claimed her life. More shocking than the wreck had been Warren’s apparent lack of concern where the welfare of his team was concerned. Sure, there had been accidents before, but never had one of his cars been engulfed in flames. One of his cars? Lucia scoffed. Deep down she knew she’d been more hurt because Warren had to have known she was involved in the accident. She thought of him like family and had always assumed he’d felt the same…until now.
Still perched on the edge of the bed with her feet dangling just above the floor, Lucia looked down at her gloved hands and let her gaze wander to her knees. The hot summer night did nothing to ease her restlessness, and four-week’s worth of confinement was threatening to drive her stir-crazy!
She gently pulled up the hem of her knee-length, white satin night gown, which Nurse Hall informed her had been purchased by Mr. Shatan to replace the hospital gown. Why he would purchase her such an intimate piece of apparel she wasn’t sure, and opted not to dwell on.
As the hem of her gown slipped up over her bandaged thigh, she wondered if tonight she’d finally be able to walk on her own. For the first two weeks, she’d only attempted to walk under guidance from Dr. White. She’d remembered Draken’s words well, “There was severe damage to the muscle tissue, tendons, and nerves, but if you give it adequate time to heal, you should recover fully…aside from the scar.”
She hadn’t wanted to jeopardize her chance at a full recovery by prematurely attempting to walk, but after she’d successfully mastered the use of the crutches, followed by the walker, then the cane, she’d begun attempting to walk on her own after Nurse Hall left each night. She hadn’t been successful yet, but tonight as restless as she was she felt she might just be able to walk on her own and maybe even walk off the property and out of Draken’s beautiful prison for good.
The thought of Draken left her in a state of unease. She felt like a nuisance, a free loader. Clearly, he didn’t want her on his property, and she certainly didn’t want to be here, but there was little she could do to remedy the situation. The staff refused to allow her to leave and she didn’t have the means on her own. She’d scoured her room for a phone or laptop in hopes of somehow contacting Warren, but the closes she’d come to a means of communication was paper and pen. Still, too many unanswered questions swamped her regarding her stay at Draken’s home. Shatan Manor, she amended remembering how Nurse Hall had informed her of the name of the estate.
Why did Draken bring me here? Why didn’t he send me to the hospital or at least send me home? What does he hope to gain from this? What does he want?
All the unanswered questions only furthered her resolve. She glanced over at her cane that was propped against the bedside table and quickly grabbed it to help herself up. She’d use it to help her stand, and then see how far she could get without it.
On her feet, she reached back to drop the cane back against the bed. She stood for a moment, and then shifted a portion of her weight uneasily to her left leg. Her leg was still sore from the laceration, and even more sore from immobility, but it could hold some weight and that was good enough for her. Slowly, she limped toward a chair upon which Nurse Hall had laid the white silky robe that matched her nightgown. It took her an eternity to manage the several steps, but she had managed.
Smiling, she slid her slight frame into the robe. Ecstatic at the prospect of finally getting out of the lovely room that had been her home for the past four weeks, she hobbled to the door, rested her gloved hand on the door knob, and wondered whether she’d even be able to get it open. Luckily, the gloves weren’t as slippery as they appeared and she didn’t need to apply as much pressure as she’d thought to open the door.
She poked her head out and looked down the corridor. The lengthy darkened hall was empty save for a few tables adorned with vases of what appeared to be fresh-cut flowers. To her left were four doors scattered on either side of the hall and to the right was the same, followed by an expansive staircase. Lucia shuffled slowly down the hall with great effort. Walking on her own for the first time was much more difficult than she’d initially thought it would be.
When she finally made it to the top of the staircase, she looked down at an impossible feat of at least thirty widely placed steps. She knew there was zero chance of her making it down that many steps without assistance this soon in her recovery. She sighed heavily and used a gloved finger to swipe her long black locks away from her coffee colored eyes.
“Going somewhere?” The deep voice questioned directly behind her.
Chapter 3
Startled, Lucia spun quickly but lost her balance. Her eyes widened as she realized she was about to tumble backward down the stairs. Strong hands shot out and jerked her to safety. Her heart was pounding as her face rested against Draken’s bare chest. He must have been stirred from his sleep, as he was clad in only a pair of hunter green sleeping trousers. His skin was invitingly warm against her cheek, and he smelled of fresh soap.
With her heart still racing from the near treachero
us fall, Lucia pulled out of Draken’s embrace and frowned up at him from beneath impossibly long ebony lashes.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she admonished.
Draken’s smile revealed even white teeth as he chuckled, “I can sneak up on anyone I want. This is my house.”
Lucia made to jerk her arms from his grasp, but he held firm. Desperately she offered, “I don’t know why you have me here, or what you’re expecting to gain from all of this, but I have nothing to offer. I thank you for your kindness, but I’m well enough now and you should send me home. I’d like to go home.”
Draken’s amusement faded as he reached down and replaced the silky white robe that slid off her bare shoulder. His eyes lingered on the area he’d just covered and Lucia watched as his gaze changed from one of amusement, to something else, then transitioned again becoming steely. “You’ll stay here until I decide it is time for you to go. Until then, you’ll do as I say. Now, return to your room”.
Lucia’s soft lips parted in protest as disbelief seared her cheeks. “I am not a child and I won’t be treated like one. You don’t own me,” she declared as she attempted to back down the stairs.
Draken grabbed her arms and pulled her hard against him, looking down at her with what she could only describe as a mixture of hatred and disgust.
Again, she attempted to pull back as she challenged, “You can save your loathing for someone who deserves it. I’ve never done anything to you. And as for doing what you say, you’ve got the wrong lady because I’m not her.” Realizing her attempts to free herself were futile, she slumped her shoulders with a harshly expelled sigh of resignation and held her hands up in front of her as if to protect herself from his hateful scowl. She stood trembling from a mixture of adrenaline and anger, but her features only portrayed despair as she kept her head turned to the side to avoid eye contact.
He was much taller than Warren’s five foot six and he was more heavily muscled. Intimidating on and off the track…of course!
***
Staring down upon Lucia’s slight frame with her gloved hands held up in a gesture of self-protection, Draken’s hard gaze softened and he felt a pang of guilt for having judged Lucia so harshly. He still had no proof that she was a participant in, let alone even aware of Warren’s schemes, and without the proof he couldn’t confront her. Not that he would in her current state. From what Dr. White had informed him, Lucia was still healing. While her burns and leg were getting better daily, there was still a great chance of infection.
He bent and effortlessly scooped Lucia up into his arms. A startled squeak escaped her lips but she quickly looked away from him to avoid meeting his gaze. She was light…and soft. He tried not to rub his hands on the bare skin of her legs or her satin covered ribs where he held her and the effort was difficult.
Wordlessly, he carried her down the corridor and back to her room where he gently placed her on her bed then turned and left the room.
In the hall, he stopped to regain his composure. Something about Lucia had him off-balance. He was a consummate professional and an uncompromising businessman, but for some reason he felt himself buckle slightly where Lucia was concerned. He ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t held a woman in years. He’d been too consumed with tracking his sisters’ killers to bother with a love life. Now, after cradling Lucia in his arms he realized what a mistake the action had been. It only served to remind him of what he’d been missing.
He shook his head and snorted with a smile, Get a grip! She’s your enemy. He tried to convince himself of the fact as he stalked back down the hall to his room.
***
Lucia sat on the bed in disbelief. Shaking from the encounter, she tried to figure out what just happened. A pang of guilt tore through her at how she’d confronted him, but he’d earned the admonishment. Still, he’d been allowing her to stay with him and taking care of her. I should be grateful.
She didn’t bother getting back up off the bed. Instead, she lay on her back staring up at the ceiling and going over Draken’s potential motives before sleep finally claimed her.
The next afternoon Lucia lay in bed listening to birds chirping outside her balcony window as she wondered what Draken meant by “until I decide it’s time for you to go.” Whatever he was up to, Lucia knew she wanted no part of it.
With the help of her cane, she maneuvered about the room with only slight effort. Quickly, she pulled a short jean skirt and peach sweater from the wardrobe of clothes that Draken had purchased for her. Nurse Hall had informed her of the clothes, but she hadn’t had a chance to wear any having been confined to her room for the past four weeks. Now, she dressed and had to admit it felt good to finally get out of the satin nightgown and into some proper attire.
She slid her feet into a pair of white canvas shoes then eased herself down into the chair in front of the tall mirror that sat atop one of the bedroom dressers. She repeated in her head the lie she had prepared for Nurse Hall the night before after finally having decided that it was time for her to go home. I’ll simply tell her that Mr. Shatan believes I’m well enough to be transported home and that he’d like Nurse Hall to drive me there straight away.
Running a brush through her long dark hair, Lucia attempted a smile at her reflection in hopes of inspiring courage. She was afraid of what would happen if the plan backfired in her face. What would Draken do if he knew she was trying to be deceitful in an attempt at escape? He already dislikes me. Can it get much worse? Her smile quickly faded because she had no doubt that it actually could.
Her eyes flicked back up to her reflection and she stared at her own image. When she’d first met Warren, she’d often wondered why he’d never tried to instigate an intimate relationship with her. She was told often that she was beautiful and frequently had to thwart advances from other men, but Warren seemed immune to any beauty she possessed. After time, she lost any romantic inclination where he was concerned and grew to love him as a brotherly figure.
Gazing at herself, her eyes drifted down to the scars that marred her neck and the right side of her jaw. Luckily, the flames that licked up at her face that awful day hadn’t reached too high. One swirled looking scar crested her jaw line up to her cheek about two inches and was about an inch and a half wide. Unfortunately, under her chin and a good portion of her neck were severely scarred where her protective suit had ironically melted into her flesh.
Removing a glove from one of her equally scarred hands, Lucia felt the unbelievable softness of the scar tissue and couldn’t make out whether it was the deformed flesh of her neck or her fingers that was so soft. She wondered if any man would again find her as beautiful as she had formerly been dubbed. The thought was interrupted by Nurse Hall entering the room.
“Up and around I see, that’s good for you my dear,” Nurse Hall proclaimed in a chipper tone.
Before she lost her nerve Lucia blurted out, “Draken says I can go home and he wants you to take me.” She quickly lowered her gaze and bit her lip, annoyed at her own impatience and dismayed at so quickly abandoning her well-rehearsed lie to simply blurt it out.
Nurse Hall simply laughed and said, “I’m glad to see your sense of humor is returning.”
Annoyed, Lucia looked up and said more sternly, “I’m not joking, Draken feels I am healthy enough to endure travel home.”
Nurse Hall scowled at Lucia with her own annoyance and said, “That’s not funny. It’d break Mr. Shatan’s heart to hear you talk in such a manner.”
A look of utter bewilderment crossed Lucia’s face, but went unnoticed by Nurse Hall who was busy setting out new bandages for Lucia’s wounds. “How on earth could my leaving break Mr. Sha…Draken’s heart?” Lucia questioned.
Nurse Hall turned to her with a serious look and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by an elderly gentleman dressed in a suit who entered the room.
“That will be all Nurse Hall,” the old man drawled.
Nurse Hall glanced at Lucia, then quickly lef
t the room throwing a, “Best of luck dear!” over her shoulder.
Lucia opened her mouth to protest Nurse Hall’s rapid departure, but was immediately silenced by the older gentleman’s words. “I am Patrick, Mr. Shatan’s valet, and charge of the household staff. Dr. White and Nurse Hall have been cleared of their service as your last check up went as well as can be expected.
Mr. Shatan would like you to accompany him for dinner this evening in the formal dining hall.” Patrick clapped his white gloved hands together and three young women wearing matching gray uniforms entered from the hallway carrying several boxes.
“I haven’t even had lunch yet,” Lucia scoffed under her breath perturbed with the man’s no-nonsense demeanor.
Patrick ignored the comment and continued, “Mr. Shatan would like you to dress formally as he will be entertaining guests. He has graciously provided the dresses for you to choose from; however, I highly recommend the red gown as it is Mr. Shatan’s preferred color on a woman of your…appearance.
Dinner will be served promptly at seven, so please be dressed by then.” He clapped his hands again and the three women quickly exited the room leaving the boxes laid out on the bed.
Patrick stiffly turned to follow suit, but his exit was interrupted by Lucia
“Wait! Please tell Mr. Shatan I’ll be returning home today,” she fidgeted nervously. “Now,” she amended with more courage than she actually felt. “I won’t be attending dinner and I certainly won’t be dressed in a gown of his preferred color for a woman of my appearance, whatever that means.”
Patrick turned slightly, looked over his shoulder at her and gave an approving smile before exiting the room.
Lucia watched Patrick depart with a look of sheer disbelief on her face. “Excuse me!” She used her cane to limp toward the door and was halfway there when she heard the unmistakable sound of the bolt locking into place.
“Hey! HEY!” With injured hands she was prevented from pounding on the door and her shouts garnered no response. “Shit!” she muttered and rolled her forehead on the door until she was turned and facing her room. “I can’t believe he locked me in,” she sighed worriedly as she leaned against the bedroom door.
Furious Page 2
