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In a broken whisper, she replied, “My father.”
Stunned by her answer, my hold loosened, but her will had already vanished and her hands slipped to her sides with no fight left. My gaze followed the lone tear that fell, and my chest clenched at its sight.
This wasn’t my little cunning creature with forest fire eyes I’d vowed to protect for the rest of my life. This was the broken girl she’d imprisoned for years with deep wounds of hurt as agony poured from the past.
I couldn’t take away the pain or comfort her without tearing her further. Without giving her the sense of care. And while I detested her cloudy gaze, the red in her eyes, and the tears that flowed, I stood watching her saddened features, unknowing how I could stop them.
My hands spread to her jaw and neck as I lowered my lips to her cheek. My mouth trapped her tears and the salty taste of their pain. Slowly, I brought her body flush to mine while my face slithered close to her ear.
“Don’t cry, Katia. It weakens me.”
Small trembles turned into involuntary body tremors as her tears molded into cries.
They did exactly what I’d expressed, weakened me.
I struggled between walking away and staying. Neither was something I wanted to do. If I walked away, I wouldn’t know when they stopped, but if I stayed, I wouldn’t know how to take them away.
I was at a loss, so when her head dropped to my chest, and her delicate fingers curled around my arms with fists full of fabric, I stayed.
Standing still while tears dampened my dress shirt, I kept my hands and fingers intertwined with her silk chestnut hair.
I stood there for long minutes without my chest relieving the misery that crept inside, and a part of me wanted to understand her pain.
XL
KATIA
The dark skycontinued to claim the early hours of the new day as soft thunder rocked the silence. I was lying next to Lucca, and while his breathing was even, I knew he was awake.
We didn’t touch through the night, and even now, my body remained far from his warmth. He’d seen me weak as I had lost all composure yesterday, and while my mind played with the tricks of want, need, and hope, I’d grown numbed by the time sleep claimed me.
Today was the last day before I saidI doto a killer whose hands I craved.
I was worn, confused, and outright dreading seeing my family. Because now, I felt too much.
I’d wished the next time I would face my father, I would smile brightly and show him how he’d lost. How even in misery, I prevailed, and he couldn’t touch me again. I wanted to look Enzo in the eye to show him what he hadn’t been able to do without me, and I’d dreamed of facing Leo’s compulsive demeanor to teach him how a woman could handle their emotions better.
Instead, my eyes were puffy, my heart scorched, and my will splintered.
Lucca hadn’t uttered another word after his chest soaked up my tears. Last night, he’d just waited until my rough breathing settled, and my eyes ran dry before he placed his hand low on my back and guided me out of the room and into ours.
His silence had been enough, because at least then promises couldn’t be broken, and words would’ve been tainted by deception.
“Broken streetlamps remind me of the first life I took and the last night I saw my mother.”
My heart raced in my chest as Lucca broke the silence inside the room. I didn’t move. I lay paralyzed as I listened to him share a part of him.
“It was the night before my fourteenth birthday. We’d been running for so long that I began believing my mother’s fear was all a creation of her mind. I don’t remember a time before just us, and in the early hours of the morning, she dropped me off on the curb next to a large stone building.
“She held my face one last time and vanished into the darkness. I never saw her again.” Lucca shifted. “And while I bathe in the dark, I can’t stand seeing a broken streetlamp.”
I breathed quietly through my parted lips in ache as my soul grasped a fragment of his past. The troubles he’d buried without allowing others to see them.
“I’ve made peace with who I am, Katia, and what I can’t offer. But I owe you a thank you. While I am a proud man, you deserve the reasoning behind my gratitude for something that may seem minor, but to me…”
Lucca trailed off, and as he opened the door of his past in the dim hours of the morning, I wanted to venture closer to what made him,him. He was right. To me, the broken light didn’t concern me. I had scheduled and assured the repairs with Viktor before we left Montana. At a time, I was still riding high on the riches and ideas for our future. Little did I know, it was a rooted wound tied with foul vines of memories.
I risked a glance and found his eyes open, watching the ceiling as if he was searching for something more than the roof lines. His relaxed breathing contradicted his rigid muscles, and when he felt my eyes on him, they lowered as his head leaned to meet my gaze.
