Lyriope pulls her elbow from my now loosening hold, her eyes staying averted from mine as she steps back away from me.
“I’m happy that Cora is safe,” she says. “It would have been a shame for her to have been hurt in the crossfire of my kidnapping.”
I hear snark in her voice but can’t figure out why.
Her eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as she takes a deep breath. “This entire situation has gotten out of hand. I don’t know how we got here.”
I reach for her again, my fingers firmly gripping her forearm pulling her back to me. “It ends tonight,” I softly say. “I don’t care how, but the games end now.”
“Why did the Sidorovs let you in here?” she asks.
“I had to see you. I had to hear your voice, touch you, be near. I need you to know I’m here, and I’m going to fix this.”
Lyriope pulls free from my hold fully. Lifting her hand to her face, she brushes some loose strands of hair from her eyes. I don’t like the bruises and dark welts on her arms that are revealed by her slightly raised sleeve.
“What the hell happened to you?” I gasp, trying to reach for her. “Why are there bruises on your wrists? Your face?” I know the answer but can’t help asking. Maybe it is because I am clinging to the hope that the Sidorovs wouldn’t have truly hurt her. Especially while we are in negotiations.
Lyriope avoids me by taking a step back, tentatively pulling her sleeve back down to cover her discolored skin. “I’m sorry, Nick, but I think I need you to go. I don’t think I should be staying with you any longer, and I don’t think you should involve yourself in this Morelli–Constantine battle. One less player in this sick game, the better.”
My eyes narrow on her, fearing what she’s keeping inside. “What are you not telling me? Something is off, and I know it.”
Lyriope stays silent, her stare shifting away from mine, tears obviously welling in her eyes again.
“Did the Sidorovs threaten you? Did they beat you to make you push me out of the way?” I ask, dreading to hear her answer but knowing I must. “Has that bastard given you all these bruises and marks?”
Finally Lyriope looks back to me, tears falling down her cheeks, her lips trembling. “This all needs to end. I’m tired. So fucking tired.”
Lyriope turns away from me then, walking to the other side of the room, leaving me in a myriad of emotion. I can’t leave her even though I know my time is running out. Not without saying something, doing something, yet I feel so out of control with my emotions. Allowing my feet to take over my mind, I follow.
Closing the distance between us again, I hold her gently by the wrists against the window she stares out, my body molding into hers as my lips passionately claim what was mine for only a short time in this Italian paradise, my tongue gently brushing against her lips begging for a taste of her again.
Being so close to her, her sweet smell of some exotic flower taunting me, rocks me senseless. Though I know it is dangerous, reckless and just plain foolish, I can’t stop myself from pulling her to me tightly, never wanting to let her go. They’ll have to kill me before I will release her.
Craving the feel of her naked skin against my own, I trail my caressing lips down her neck, my fingers leaving her wrist, moving down and pulling her dress from her shoulder, revealing bloody cuts covering her milky skin.
I step back away from her, my grip loosening, my gaze holding hers, beginning to understand why she has changed so much. I know Sidorov is not a gentle man, nor does he possess any ounce of kindness or mercy, but I didn’t think he could harm an innocent woman who is merely a pawn in this game.
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” I state feeling as if the red rage is blinding me, crippling me, nearly killing me.
No longer being able to keep her tears at bay, Lyriope pulls the shoulder of her dress back into place. “They’re superficial. He was just trying to scare me.”
My eyes narrow, studying her, confused why any man would want to cause such a beautiful woman so much pain. Hesitantly reaching forward, I carefully remove the dress again, and slide the fabric down, revealing both of her naked shoulders to my inspecting eye. The cuts that cover her chest are far worse than just a little knife play to scare. This motherfucker hurt her, and I’ll make him pay for this by cutting back.
But when I cut… he’ll be screaming his way to his grave.
“Are there more like these, Lyriope?” I ask hesitantly. “Did he cut you elsewhere?”
Lyriope shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I pull her to me, holding her, comforting her, needing to know that at least for this minute she is safe back in my arms. But it isn’t long before Lyriope is pushing me away from her.
“You still need to go,” she asserts. “It’s time for this to end, and it can’t while you are still in the mix.”
I hold her to me, not willing to let her leave me. “I need to get you out of here,” I declare. “Away from the Sidorovs, away from Italy, and away from this hell. I won’t let him or anyone else do this to you again.”
Even though I say the words, I’m not sure I can make good on that promise, but I will damn well try. I hate myself right now. Downright detest the man I have become. She had begged me to go to Wonderland. And I had just handed this helpless woman to a sentence of abuse. I made it easy for them. I practically handed her over on a silver platter. Who could do something so vile? Who could deliver a precious gift to a fucking monster? A goddamn party in Italy was more important than staying by her side. I had to grandstand. Show off. Be the Nick Hudson everyone wanted to party with. Why the fuck did I leave her?
Lyriope shakes her head, finally pulling away from me and straightening her dress. “You can’t save me, Nick. I can’t stay hidden in your private Italian town forever. I have to face my reality. I have to stop looking in from the outside, but actually enter the looking glass. It’s time. It’s long past time.” Lyriope turns away from me and begins walking toward the door.