Dang it. Calculus was killing her, and it was becoming too hard for her to understand from over the computer.
Accepting defeat for now, she headed downstairs for some lunch. Once there, she noticed a motion in the backyard that made her curious to look out the back door for a better view.
Chloe peeked out to see Lucca down in the dirt. He seemed to be … gardening?
“I see you finally decided to come down,” Drago said in a gruff voice from behind her.
She quickly turned around, nervous that she had been caught staring at Lucca. “I-I came down to g-get something to eat.”
“I’m sure you did. You don’t come down for anything else.” His sour tone told her he was not being sarcastic.
She looked out at the backyard again, at Lucca, knowing what Drago meant. The times she had spent with him weren’t of her own accord; they were just when she had to, to honor the deal.
“He’s not at work today?” The words seemed to slip out of her mouth as she watched Lucca wipe sweat from his forehead onto his black shirt.
“No, it’s Saturday. You would know that if you quit acting like such a prisoner.”
Turning around, she looked at him in confusion. “I am a prisoner.”
Drago’s appearance went dark as he took a step toward her. “We both know what being a real prisoner feels like, Chloe. Tell me, how is this compared to the last time?” He took another step toward her. “When you dream, who is it that haunts you? Lucca? Or the man who gave you those scars?”
She could only stare back at the huge man, knowing all too well he spoke the truth.
Leaving Chloe to her truth, he said one last thing, “I’m sure Lucca is hungry, too.”
Turning back, she observed her captor for a few minutes alone.
We both know what being a real prisoner feels like, Chloe.
The way Drago had talked to her was like he had hinted … she was here for a reason. But … I am a prisoner, aren’t I?
Shaking her head, she went to the fridge, deciding to make herself a sandwich. She made just one then put all the stuff back. Now staring at her lone sandwich, her eyes drifted to the back door. Should I? She shook her head harder, trying to get the thought out of her mind.
Grabbing her plate, she sat at the kitchen island and quickly ate her food, glancing out the window to watch him every now and then. To say the least, Chloe found it interesting that the boogieman knew how to garden of all things.
She cleaned up after herself then started back upstairs, but her feet stopped her when she went to look at Lucca through the window one last time.
A small voice she hadn’t heard before whispered, Do it.
Chloe listened to the voice, making another plate. She decided he would probably be able to easily eat two, filling the bread with a bunch of meat, lettuce, and tomatoes. If he didn’t like something on it, he could simply pull it off.
She took the sandwiches, along with a bottle of water, to the back door. By the time she opened it, though, she realized the mistake of listening to the unknown voice. But with Lucca turning to look at her, it was too late.
Biting her lip nervously, she went toward him, wishing she could turn back. Then, when she reached him, she paused a moment, looking down at him.
His long, unkempt black-brown hair that he kept slicked back lay messily around his handsome features. The dark jeans and black shirt he always wore were dirty, giving him an even rougher look than he usually had. She wasn’t used to men who looked like him. She was used to well-dressed, well-groomed men who wore expensive clothes. He was the complete opposite.
Lucca waited for her to say something before giving her a smile when he realized she was taking in his appearance.
“Is that for me, darlin’?”
“Y-Yes. D-Drago said you might be hungry,” she stammered, quickly moving her eyes to the plate.
“I’m guessing he made it, too.” His voice seemed to lose pitch, like he was disappointed.
Chloe shook her head, looking at him again. “No, I did.”
The smile was brought back to his lips as he pulled off his dirty work gloves and stood. Coming over to her, he took the plate and water from her. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“Y-You’re welcome.”
She finally released the breath she held when he turned.
She found herself wishing he could be less good-looking. His combination of terrifying yet beautiful was too much for one man to have.
He took a seat on the grass, patting the spot next to him. “Come sit down with me.” He didn’t say it like a command, which was strange. It was more like he was asking.