I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled to Luca’s contact to see that he was, in fact, blocked. My brows furrowed. If I hadn’t, then …
Hatchet.
Anger flared through me. I stood, pressing past Luca. He trailed behind me, his insistent demands a jilted mix of Italian and English. Eyes followed us through the hospital hallways.
“Stop!” I hissed, my cheeks flushed. “Everyone’s watching us.”
“Because they know you’re overreacting.” Luca’s hand brushed my arm.“You’re mine.”
I turned and shoved my hands into his chest. “I’m not yours. I stopped being yours the moment you fucked someone else in our bed. We’re done. Leave me alone.”
Luca grabbed my arm as I attempted to move past him, squeezing my bicep tight.
“Come home,” he demanded.
“Let me go. You’re hurting me.”
Joey, a nurse who could moonlight as a bouncer, stepped forward. I held up my hand to stop him. “I’ve got this.” I glared at Luca. “Let me go. Right now.”
He loosened his grip, allowing me to pull away.
I jogged through the sliding doors into the brutal Texas heat, hyperaware of the fall of his footsteps behind me as I headed to the back of the parking lot. I didn’t look back. Didn’t acknowledge his presence. I clicked the fob and reached for the handle.
A whoosh of breath left me as Luca slammed me against my truck. I shrieked in pain as the hot steel seared my skin. I turned to face Luca, pressing closer to him only to avoid the scorching metal.
“If you come back to me, I’ll forgive you for what you’ve done.” His low, dangerous tone sent shivers down my arms.
I pushed into him, hoping he’d take a step back. “You can afford the repairs. You love throwing money around.”
I froze as Luca wrapped a hand around my throat.My hands flew up on instinct, my fingers wrapping around his wrist as his grip tightened. My heart hammered in my chest, and tears sprang to my eyes.
“I’m not talking about your little tantrum,” he spat. “I’m talking about whoever’s bed you fell into last night.” He squeezed tighter. “You had your fun. You made your point. We’re even now.”
As my vision began to spot, I raised my knee and jammed it between his legs as hard as I could. I twisted loose and shoved Luca away. He stumbled sideways with a groan.
I hopped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door and hitting the locks. I sucked in a ragged breath. Luca staggered in front of the hood, and I started the engine, gunning the accelerator and speeding past him.
I blared rap music as I sped to the clubhouse, aiming to ease my frayed nerves. I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. The marks on my throat were already blooming against my skin. I stared at them for a moment before rummaging through my purse for my concealer. My hands steadied as I swiped it across my neck and face.
I’d seen this before. In exam rooms. On other women. I just never thought I’d see it on myself.
I kept driving. By the time the clubhouse gates came into view, my face was neutral, my breath steady. I waved at Coast and another prospect manning the gate as I drove through.
My phone chirped as I put the truck in park.
Eva: Heard you’re living at the clubhouse. Want to grab dinner?
Me: Yeah, but first I need to remove Hatchet’s balls.
Eva: Can I watch?
Me: The more, the merrier.
I stormed into the clubhouse, the door slamming against the wall with such force that memories of my father’s lectures about my temper flooded back.
“Hatchet,” I shouted, my voice echoing across the polished concrete floors as I swept my gaze across the space. “Where the fuck is Hatchet?”
Fuse raised a brow at the fury in my voice but silently tilted his head toward Thane’s office.
