POP.
When the shot fired through the bag, Drago realized his grave mistake.
Going for his gun, he took a step toward the man, when …
POP.
Both shots had hit him in the chest before his gun was at his side.
Lifting up the gun, he saw now that other men had gotten out of the car, all holding guns.
POP.
He pulled the trigger, but his aim wasn’t true as a bullet lodged itself deep in his own arm.
Knowing he wasn’t going to make it, his only hope was to warn her.
“Chloe, hide!” his voice boomed.
POP.
Refusing to go down, he went to tackle the man.
POP.
Drago’s body slumped to the floor as his mind began to fog. He had failed.
I’m sorry … Chlo—
When Chloe heard the loud noises, she held herself tighter.
“Chloe, hide!” she heard Drago’s muffled yell.
She moved a millimeter before a familiar voice spoke to her, freezing her in place.
Stay still, little girl …
More shots rang out before there was only silence.
… Or it’ll just hurt worse.
A tear fell from her eye. A real, single wet tear touched her cheek.
The door slowly creaked open, and the figure of a man stood in the doorway. He looked just how he had four years ago, like he had come out of her nightmare, his black eyes still glowing with evil.
She closed her eyes. Chloe, wake up and everything will be okay.
“I’ve missed you, little girl.”
Lucca walked out of the place he held his captive prisoner, waiting for his sins to wash away once the fresh air hit him, like they always did. This time, however, they didn’t, and his heart sunk deep as the feeling he and Chloe shared began to fissure, telling him something terrible was happening.
Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he saw he had a missed call from Drago. Quickly, he called him back.
ANSWER!
There was no answer.
Now running to his car, he called Sal, who picked up on the first ring.
“House, now!” was all he said before he hung up, throwing himself into his Cadillac and starting up his car.
Sal would be able to see what was happening on his computer. He would be able to help and assess the situation since he was closer to the house.
Lucca drove at breakneck speeds. He was too far away from the house. Too far away from Chloe once again. This was now the third time this wretched, hopeless feeling had taken over his body.
However, this time felt different, more … final.
Stay with me, Chloe. Please don’t leave me.
He’d had her now, tasted her, felt her. Living even this short amount of time with her, he knew one thing for certain.
I won’t be able to live without you.
Thirty-Eight
Pressing Play
Lucca’s heart shattered into a billion and one fucking pieces the moment he stepped into his house and saw Sal’s sullen face, along with the blood covering the entrance to his family home. The darkness instantly rose, demanding to go after her that second, but Sal calmed him, telling him he needed to find out first where they took her, along with devising a plan to get her out safely.
Lucca asked to see the security tapes of what exactly happened, wanting to see it himself instead of being told. Then he watched every part of it: Drago fighting as he went down, and how Chloe simply sat there, too fucking afraid to even move.
It was clear there was only one person at fault. Me.
He took responsibility for everything: not being there to protect her himself, needing retribution after the look on Chloe’s face this morning and what she had told him. She had said that one of Lucifer’s men, who had held her down, had worn the ring while Lucifer had marked her body repeatedly.
Lucca had held her for a while until she had calmed, while the darkness had only grown inside of him. Then, afraid the darkness would blow at any second and not wanting to hurt her or force her into something she didn’t want, he had left. He had needed to take it out on the same man who had held her down while she had been tormented.
Raking his fingers through his overgrown hair that had reached the nape of his neck, he couldn’t understand it. He had been so careful …
Then it occurred to him. The only thing he hadn’t planned. Amo…
Sal’s voice cut through his thoughts. “They are still working on Drago, but they say it doesn’t look like he will make it.”
Fuck! Drago was one of their best. Lucca needed him more than ever right now, but instead, he lay there, dying on a fucking emergency room table because of Lucca’s stupidity.
“There’s something else …” The sorrow in Sal’s voice became more evident. “Lucifer left this.”
Lucca stared at the disk his friend held out to him. “What is it?”
“You’ll want to watch it … alone.”