When he started walking away, she sat up halfway. “W-Where are you go—”
“I’m just going to change. I’m not leaving you, darlin’.”
Relaxing back, she watched him go to his dresser again. She wasn’t able to look away when he pulled off the black tie then started unbuttoning his shirt. His dark Italian skin glowed in the dimly-lit room, highlighting the muscles all over his body.
Lucca had the body type every woman desired, and every man dreamed of having. His arms, chest, shoulders, and upper back were the biggest part of him, having a tapered waist that had a strong six pack. She’d had a hint of what he might look like underneath just based on his black shirts hugging the top part of him, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought he would have been as perfect as she was seeing now. Everything about him truly put every other man to shame; as his lesser. Lucca was born right where he belonged. The king of Kansas City.
Turning her head away when he went to remove his pants, she pulled the comforter to her tighter and closed her eyes, trying not to picture the devil’s face in her mind. She lay there like that for a few minutes until the bed moved and strong arms pulled her to a hard, warm body. The skin she felt was alarming, making her pull away to see it was his bare chest.
Lucca held her firmly, bringing her back to him. “I’m not naked, darlin’, but I’m not going to wear a shirt, either.”
Now that she could feel the thick material covering his bottom half, she eased back into him, yet still stiffly. It was strange to be held, feeling his skin all over her, but it was also strangely nice.
Both of their bodies held a cooling, minty scent between them, making her melt into him. She honestly felt she couldn’t get enough of that smell. It called to her, soothing her.
The longer she lay with him like this, held by him against his chest, the faster the now faint trails of where the devil had touched her began to disappear. The memory, however, remained very much there, sending a shiver coursing through her body.
“D-Did you know that it was him who …?” Killed your mother.
He rubbed his fingers up and down her back. “Yes, I always had the feeling he had something to do with her death, but I could never prove it.”
“I’m s-sorry.” She pressed closer to him, knowing how Lucca felt about his mother, though he never said it. “I’m sorry you had to wait that long.”
His voice went dark. “I got him now, and that’s all that matters.”
Shivering at his words, her hair stood on end, thinking about the devil’s wretched fate. It also comforted her to know he wouldn’t be able to touch her again.
Beginning to fall asleep, the nightmares weren’t as harsh while being in his arms, but she could still feel them coming for her, silently tormenting her.
Even though the devil’s fate was fatal, she just wished her soul would have been set free …
Every night for weeks, Lucca always had the same nightmare whenever he closed his eyes …
Lucca could feel it suddenly hit him. It was like a change in the direction of wind—the feeling of dread that something terrible was about to take place.
His eyes went to her, knowing she felt it, too. The look of pure terror upon Chloe’s face when the gunshots rang out through the mall would haunt him until the day he died.
He was so close, yet so far away from her again. The people running at him wouldn’t let him push through to get to her. No matter how hard he tried to fight through the wave of what felt like thousands of people, he was still only one man.
She wasn’t moving. She needed to mo—
“Chloe!” He singled out Amo’s voice through the chaos.
He and Amo stood at equal distances apart, at equal distances away from her. The three made a triangle, with her being at the top.
He fought harder against the wave as he watched her take a small step toward Amo. He needed her to move faster and to him, knowing he would take the bullet for her if it came to that.
“Chloe, move!”
When she took a step again, this time toward him, his heart thudded in his chest, feeling like it was synced with hers. That’s it, baby, come to me.
“This way, Chloe!” Amo’s voice cut through again.
No! “To me, Chloe!” He needed her. She needed him. He had to hold her. He had to save her. He had dreamt of this moment for months.
If he saw her walk away with Amo yet again, he didn’t know if he would be able to handle it, not for a second time.