Page 76 of One Step After Another

The girl was a created killer. That place—those people—she worked for ... they had turned her into someone he was still trying to learn. She was a shell of who she used to be, but he no longer thought that was a bad thing.

That didn’t mean she liked it.

Luca knew that.

He could have left Penny alone. That might have been the smarter option. Considering she had just thrown a knife at him. One she still had within reach. Instead, he followed her like a dumbass and watched from behind a couch as she poured herself a glass of whiskey at the wet bar facing the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the strip.

Her silence irked him.

More than he could explain.

Even as she lifted the glass of whiskey and swallowed two fingers worth of burning liquor without as much as a cringe, the feeling only festered inside of Luca. More and more. Until he was brimming with it and unwilling to keep quiet any longer.

How would that help?

Didn’t she realize at all ...

“I fucking care,” he told her. “Don’t you get that? I care. That’s all.”

She wouldn’t look at him.

Not even once.

“Penny.”

“I know!”

Her shriek exploded the same way the glass did when she slammed it against the marble top of the wet bar. Shards flew in every direction, one slicing the side of her hand while others tinkled as they bounced to the floor. Luca held back from rushing to help, but only because she pointed that bloody hand at him like she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

Even when she was in pain.

“I know that,” she said, an ache coating her every word. “I’m not that out of touch, Luca. I have a heart. And a soul, too, despite everyone who tried to sell it. Do you really think I don’t know that’s why you’ve done all of this? Why you tracked me for all this time—why you’re willing to be here right now, lying to the people you love, for me? Yes, I know!”

That was it, he knew.

It hit him like a brick to the chest.

“Because you do, too. Care,” he clarified, seeing how she fought to maintain some semblance of control even as she yanked the splinter of glass from her hand without a flinch. Her hands shook, like her shoulders and her bottom lip. She fought back tears while forcing her expression to remain stone-like. “About everyone you left behind. About the kids you’re trying to help by doing what you’re doing. Me. You care about—”

“Just ... fuck off,” she snapped.

“No.”

He took one step toward her.

She shook her head. “You need to stop.”

“Tell me that. Tell me exactly what you want me to do, Penny. Tell me no or tell me you hate me. Tell me you’re never coming back—that everything I’ve done up until now is pointless because the life you left behind is no longer yours.”

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her. Until their chests touched, her wrists, even the one with blood still dribbling down in a morbid trail, was locked in his hands, and he had her backed into the window.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, tipping his head down so her eyes were locked with his. “Tell me. I’ll wait.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a real answer.” He let go of her wrists, ready to fend off a slap or worse, but they only dropped loosely to her sides. His palms found her face, and he closed the inch left between them so she understood. It was him and her in that second. Two fucking humans with hearts and feelings and thoughts of their own. “I don’t want the programmed shit you’ve been feeding people—or they’ve been feeding you—for years. All that’s ever done is kept people from knowing you were hurting. You can put up walls and protect yourself from the world ... but not from me. You never needed to, remember? I told you once.”

“Luca, please ... I’m begging you to just leave it—