“Look at me,” he commanded.
When she didn’t, he tugged the dark silk he held captive.
Chloe raised her gray depths slowly, meeting his blue-green ones through her lashes.
“No one is taking you from me, darlin’.” Tugging her hair once more, he brought her closer to him. “You’re mine, Chloe Masters. You have been since the moment I saw your scarred face. You just didn’t know it.”
For four long years, her body had been claimed by the one she had believed to be the most heinous of beings, but now she could feel the old bonds the devil had placed on her breaking, and new chains were taking its place. These chains were heavier, tighter, showing her that she had been claimed by a more evil being. Her body had been claimed by the boogieman.
Unraveling the strand around his finger, he was so close, almost brushing his fingertips upon her neck.
Slamming her eyes shut, she waited for it, for the moment when he would finally touch her. But seconds passed, and it never came.
She opened her eyes to find that he had already disappeared. However, the chains were still there, just as heavy, just as tight.
Twenty-Two
This Was It; The Time Had Come
Chloe had fought off the nightmares every night since the last time, but not tonight. Her body now belonged to one monster, while her mind and soul still belonged to another. Letting her demons come for her, there was no use in fighting them anymore …
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 far past too 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 …
“Chloe … Chloe, wake up and everything will be okay.” The repeated words brought her out of the nightmare.
Opening her eyes, she saw Lucca sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with the ends of her hair that rested on the pillow.
Afraid, she quickly sat up, scooting away from him, the nightmares and her tiredness not helping.
“You really think I would hurt you, darlin’? After seeing you like that?”
I don’t think you understand what you mean to him, Maria’s words echoed in her mind.
Balling up her fists, her nails touched her palms and a wince of pain reached her face.
“What’s wrong?” Lucca began studying her.
“N-Nothing.”
Turning on the bedside lamp, he looked back at her, seeing that her balled-up fists were tainted pink. “Let me see them.”
“I-I’m fin—”
“Either hold them out, or I’ll do it myself,” he cut her off.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, her hands shook as she uncurled them, revealing her inflamed and bloody palms.
Without a word, he got up and left the room.
Minutes seemed to pass before he came back with a box. Returning to the edge of the bed, he opened it, revealing a first-aid kit.
“Come closer to me,” he instructed in a melodic voice.
She found herself obeying him, scooting slightly closer. It was either that or he would move her himself.
“You are going to let me touch you now, darlin’.” He didn’t ask for permission; he was telling her.
“N-No.” She tried to scoot back, but he leaned into her, placing both hands on either side of her and giving her no space and nowhere to run.
The voice that was once melodic turned dark and commanding. “You will let me touch you now.”
She closed her eyes, holding her breath. This was it; the time had come.
Holding as still as possible, she felt cold fingertips lightly touch her fire-hot hands. His cold ones turned hers over and began to soothe over her palms.
She opened her eyes then to see Lucca’s full attention on her skin. It almost seemed like he was memorizing her hands as his cold fingertips smoothed over the inflamed areas, carefully dancing around her cuts.
His hands left hers, going into the kit and pouring alcohol onto a pad. When the cold touch returned, she slightly jumped back, making him look into her eyes.
Staring into his, she saw they now appeared fully green, without a trace of any blue.
“This will hurt.”
She nodded slowly, unable to look away from his green depths.
Now when he touched her, she didn’t move away from his touch. She found herself unable to look away from him. It was like she was glimpsing a different side of him.
He pulled his eyes away from hers, bringing his attention back to her hands. Bits of his dark hair that was usually slicked back had fallen in front of his face. He uncaringly left them there while he tended to her hands. It looked like … he cared, if that was even possible.