Luca (Hunting Her) Read online

  Christ.

  I don’t know how to help. All I have is instinct and that adamant, demanding pulse is telling me to get my ass in there.

  “Luca?” she begs. “Do you really want to risk hurting her more than she already is?”

  I clench my fists. “You don’t know that I will.”

  “You’re a raging bull—face stark, hands clenched, shoulders stiff. You’re going to scare her.”

  Fuck. I try to calm myself, attempting to relax my muscles and breathe deeper.

  It’s pointless.

  I’m mindless over Penny. Mindlessly failing.

  Another scream carries from inside the room, a heavy thud following.

  “All I’m asking for is ten minutes.” Sarah twists the door handle. “I can deal with this.”

  Maybe she can. Maybe it would’ve been better for her to manage the recovery from the very first day we returned from Greece. Maybe all I’ve done is fuck Penny’s life even more.

  But I can’t bring myself to give Sarah permission to take over. All I can do is turn on my heels and stride back where I came from, my pride and a truckload of hostility clogging my fucking throat.

  8

  Penny

  I throw the bedside lamp across the room, the shade fracturing on impact, the base smashing before it falls to the carpet in fragments.

  Abi’s gone.

  Dead.

  It’s all my fault.

  I left her with a stranger.

  I gave up when I should’ve been protecting her, and now her death doesn’t even make sense. She didn’t kill herself. She wouldn’t.

  If the news report featured Lilly maybe I could digest the information. Lil was always the weakest. The one unwilling to fight.

  But not Abigail. She had fire in her soul. Determination in her belly. She wouldn’t take her life when she’d just returned to her family.

  I refuse to believe the lies, my pulse ramping higher the more my mind conjures memories of her parents on the television. Their tears. Their anguish.

  I grab the bedside clock and haul it across the room, the weight thunking into the plaster to leave a dent.

  The past returns to haunt me. Images of Abi pummel my mind. I can still feel her. Can still smell the sweet vanilla of her shampoo.

  I yank out the top drawer of the nightstand and throw that, too, this time releasing a war cry as the projectile leaves my fingers.

  The outside mania quietens the voices within. It soothes the rage. Momentarily.

  I scream as I throw another drawer. And another.

  “Penny?” The door opens, making me pause as Sarah cautiously glances inside. “Can I come in?”

  “No,” I pant, my chest heaving.

  She ignores me, walking forward, her steps cautious as she closes the door behind her.

  “Get out.” I grab the last drawer in the nightstand and heft it at the wall, the hard thwack no longer bringing relief.

  “Talk to me.” She continues toward me, not stopping until she reaches the side of the bed. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I shake my head, stumbling backward to the window.

  I want to tear my hair out. To scratch at my eyes. To claw at my skin. I want anything and everything to take away the violence inside me, the toxicity molding into my DNA.

  “What hurts the most?” she asks.

  That’s the thing—I don’t even know. Is this grief? I’m not hurt. I’m livid. The anger is marrow-deep. It accompanies every inhale. Every thought. It’s in the past, the present, the future. I’m surrounded by punishment. The shadows creep closer with each heartbeat.

  I let Abi down.

  I didn’t protect her.

  I should’ve done more. For her. For all of them.

  “Leave.” I turn to the window, my sight focused on Luca’s cream fence when my mind sees nothing but Abi. Her face blinks back at me. Her determination. Her strength.

  It’s all been extinguished.

  Snuffed.

  “When I lost my family. I couldn’t pull myself together because too many emotions were attacking me at once.” Sarah walks to the side wall and picks up the battered shell of the lamp. “The weight of it was brutal. And I was convinced nobody else would ever understand. How could they? How could anyone possibly know what it’s like to have every loved one taken away? What I should’ve realized, though, was that I didn’t need understanding. I only needed someone to listen.”

  “That’s not what I need.” I reach for the curtain, digging my nails into the thick material, tempted to pull the heavy weight from the looming rod.

  I don’t know what will help me right now, but it’s not chitchat.

  “I think you’re wrong,” she states, matter of fact. “I think you’re scared of asking for help… scared of opening up to someone. I was like that, too. I didn’t truly find my feet until I let Hunter in. He found me through the darkness.”

  I glare at her, disgusted. She may have been found, but that discovery led her to a life of crime. To a murderous fiancé.

  “And I know you said your friend wouldn’t kill herself,” she continues. “But everyone handles trauma differently. We never truly know—”

  “Stop.” Her placations stoke the building flames inside me, the suffering increasing through my anger.

  “Penny, you should—”

  “Stop,” I snap. “Your situation holds no comparison to mine. You don’t know what I want. What I need. And you certainly have no fucking understanding of how well I knew Abi. She wasn’t a friend. She was my sister. A real sister. Not like the crime-riddled family you joined to replace your own.”

  Her eyes flare. This formidable woman, with her steely determination and threatening demeanor, is taken aback by my words.

  “Ouch. That was below the belt.” She rubs her sternum as if I punched her. “But I’ll allow it. I’m all for lashing out when I’m in pain, too.”

  I wince, hating myself. Hating her. Hating the whole damn world.

  I don’t want to lash out. I don’t want to fight.

  The reaction is beyond my control, the response engrained while living under the roof of a monster. Luther made me this way. Made me learn to attack at the first sign of fear. And I loathe myself for allowing the transformation.

  I wasn’t aggressive before him. I was gentle and kind once.

  Now I’ll forever be his slave.

  “Oh, God.” I suck in a breath, the shackles of my life sentence tightening. “I’m sorry.” I swing around to the window. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Don’t be. I didn’t walk into a room where furniture was being thrown anticipating fluffy conversation and squishy boob hugs. You’re entitled to your emotions. If you’re angry, let it out. Same goes with the sadness. You can’t bottle it up.”

  She’s wrong. I can keep it bottled. Luther made it impossible not to learn the skill when he despised vulnerability. And besides, crying would be the end of me. I’d start and never stop.

  “I’m a good listener,” she adds. “Luca is, too.”

  I return my attention to the fence, staring mindlessly as I force myself to be calm. “Luca doesn’t need to be burdened any more than he already is. I’ve destroyed enough of his life. And now his home.”

  “Pfft. The guy didn’t have a life to begin with.” The mattress squeaks as she makes herself comfortable. “Listen to me. At the moment, you’re being pummeled. There’s grief, confusion, and fear. There’s loneliness, guilt, and longing. And that was before you even heard the news about Abi. Your only choice is to be overwhelmed. But you’re going to need to quieten the mass of voices to be able to move on.”

  “You’re wrong. I barely feel any of those things.”

  Hours ago, she would’ve been right. I was drowning in all those emotions. Not now though. What’s happening in this moment isn’t right.

  It’s different.

  I’m different.

  “Then what do you feel?”

  I ca
n’t admit the truth. It’s heartless, learning about the loss of a loved one only to feel anger in response. It’s not natural. Not normal.

  Luther’s influence is seeping into me. It seems the more time I spend away from the nightmare of my past, the more I’m dragged back to it.

  I’m changing, and not into someone I like.

  “You’re angry.” She releases a breath of a chuckle. “I guess we’re more alike than I thought, because that was my greatest struggle, too.”

  There’s the slightest sense of appreciation in knowing my feelings aren’t unique. Just not enough to bring comfort.

  “Rage tortured me the most,” she adds. “For weeks. Probably months. So I chased it down and figured out what it would take to silence the screams.”

  I glance over my shoulder, meeting her gaze. “How do you silence anger?”

  “Revenge,” she says simply. “I wanted retribution for what I’d lost. And what was taken from my family. That meant going after the man who destroyed us. I transformed my body into a weapon. I learned every type of combat and defense training you can think of. I did whatever it took to reach my goal.”

  I believe her. The physical lengths she went to are still evident at first glance. Her arms show defined muscle beneath the feminine facade. There are scars on her skin. There’s hardness in her beautiful features.

  “I killed those voices. And the man who murdered my family.”

  A flicker of respect sparks inside me.

  I’m happy for her, but it doesn’t mean I can do the same. Luther is already dead. Revenge isn’t possible.

  “I’ll help wherever I can. Luca will, too. And there’s no hurry. Don’t even think about it today. But why don’t you talk to the other women you lived with? They might be able to tell you about Abi’s final days and help you understand what she was thinking.”

  I shake my head. Nothing could make me understand.

  “If not for insight, do it for support. You can’t keep battling on your own.” There’s another squeak of the bed. More footfalls. “Here.”

  I turn to her standing a few feet away, her finger tapping her cell screen.

  “Talk to them.” She passes over the device, a call to Benji written on the screen, the connecting tone humming through the loud speaker.

  My hand shakes as I reluctantly take the offering. I don’t want to speak to Nina and Lilly. Not yet. Not when my betrayal to them is raw. They’ll blame me. They should blame me. I spent months protecting them only to leave when they needed me the most. Yet I can’t bring myself to end the call, the anger inside me begging for salvation.

  “Hey, Sare,” a man greets. “This isn’t a great time.”

  The voice is shockingly familiar, stunning me speechless. The tone is similar to Luca’s. Deep and graveled.

  “Sarah?” he asks.

  “Benny, I’m here.” She raises her voice from behind me. “Penny has the phone. Can you put one of the other women on the line? She needs to speak to them.”

  My heart pounds, the need to disconnect waging war with the necessity to be soothed.

  “Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “Give me a minute.”

  Silence rings in my ears, along with my heavy pulse, while I attempt to talk myself out of hanging up. This doesn’t feel right. I just… can’t.

  Murmurs filter down the line. A scuffle of scraping sounds brush my awareness.

  I push the phone toward Sarah. I can’t do this.

  “Penny?” The syllables are entirely brittle. Yearning and needy.

  I close my eyes and stiffen against a surge of guilt.

  “Penny?” she repeats, this time frantic.

  “She’s here,” Sarah answers. “She’s listening. I think she’s finding it hard to speak.”

  I suck in a breath, dragging air deep into my lungs, praying for strength. All those emotions Sarah mentioned are right there—the guilt, the sorrow. They’re banging on the walls of my anger, trying to get in.

  “Oh, God, Penny,” Nina sobs. “I don’t know what happened. Abi was excited to go home. She wanted this so much. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “So it’s true?” I whisper. “She’s dead.”

  I need to hear it, just once, from a reliable source. From someone I trust.

  “Yes.”

  I open my eyes and blink away the sear of unshed tears. I can’t cry. I won’t.

  “B-Benji took us there this morning,” she stammers. “We watched from the end of the street as the police wheeled her covered body outside.”

  “She was happy.” Lilly speaks softly in the distance. “She wanted to go home. Now I’m starting to think the home she referred to wasn’t with her parents.”

  Bile churns in my stomach, threatening to join the party.

  Heaven was not home for Abi. She would never mean that.

  “Are you both safe?” My tongue protests against the words, making them sluggish.

  “We’re being looked after,” Nina says. “Benji has given us everything we need. I’m just not sure where we go from here. We’re in Eugene, in the neighboring suburb to Abi’s parents, and were meant to be heading to my family in Gold Beach.”

  They’re close. Within a two-hour car ride.

  I could get to them. Help them. Protect them and make certain they’re stable enough to be returned to real life.

  I could… but I won’t.

  I’m not a leader anymore. My time as their protector is over.

  I can’t help anybody in my pathetic state.

  “I’m scared,” Nina admits. “What if Abi didn’t realize how tough things were going to be until she reunited with her parents? What if the reality of returning became too much? The same thing could happen to me.”

  “It won’t.” I swallow over the dryness consuming my throat. “You’re going to get back on your feet. Build a career. Be happy—”

  “But she was happy, Penny. How does that disappear in the blink of an eye?”

  “I don’t know.” I bite my lip. “We don’t know what went on inside that house.”

  “What if this never ends?” Lilly sobs. “What if we’re always going to suffer?”

  Silence follows, and I know they’re waiting for a familiar boost of positivity from me. Problem is, I have the same questions. I can’t fake optimism for them anymore.

  “Look, I’ve gotta go.” I wrap my arm around my belly and squeeze tight. Speaking to them was a mistake. I can’t help them. And they can’t help me. Not anymore. All this conversation has done is bring more vulnerability. More agonizingly brutal suffering to everyone involved. “If you remember anything call Luca.”

  Sarah clears her throat. “Penny, you have your—”

  I hold up a hand to silence her. I know what she’s going to say—that I have my own phone. That they can contact me directly if all I’d do is let Luca set up the device he bought me.

  I don’t want that. I can’t give my past twenty-four-seven access to me. And if I have the internet constantly within reach I’ll succumb to my pained curiosity. I’ll search for all the names of the sisters I’ve lost. I’ll suffocate under the weight of the lives they left behind.

  I’m not strong enough for that.

  Despite all this anger, I’m nothing but goddamn weak.

  “Goodbye,” I whisper. “I love you.”

  “We love y—”

  I disconnect, unable to listen, and hand the device to Sarah who looks at me with a mix of disapproval and pity.

  “That wasn’t really talking, now, was it?” She pockets the cell. “I told you, you need to let this out with someone. If not them, then Luca.”

  “And I’ve told you, he doesn’t need more trouble from me. He’s babysitting out of obligation. I’m only here because there was no alternative… Please, just leave me alone.”

  “He cares about you.”

  I shake my head, the movement taking too much effort. I’m not even going to argue.

  A light tap sounds at the door, and the man of
the moment pokes his head into the room, his intense eyes taking in the destruction of the room before settling on me. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No. Come in.” Sarah walks toward him. Both of them stop at the foot of the bed to stare at me. “Penny and I were just having a conversation about her coming to live with me for a while. I think it’s for the best.”

  “What?” Luca stiffens.

  I do the same, completely blindsided.

  That was not what we discussed. Yet the denial remains caged in my tightening throat, waiting for his relief to show.

  “You’re no longer obligated to look after her,” she continues. “It’s my job now.”

  “Obligated?” His eyes harden. “She’s never been a fucking obligation, Sarah. I chose to come back here. With her. If she goes, I go. I’m not leaving her fucking side. Not for a minute.”

  My emotions swirl, creating a washing machine of confusion and denial. I don’t want to believe him. I don’t. Yet I crave it, too. Oh, God, how I crave.

  Sarah cringes. “Luca, we all know you got dumped with the babysitting job. Let me take over. I’m better equipped to look after a woman. We can have a girls’ retreat at my place.”

  “Is that what you want?” His frantic gaze searches mine. “Do you want to leave?”

  No. What I want is to make things easier on him. To stop being a nuisance. To take the burden off his shoulders.

  “Penny?” He steps closer, his hand reaching out only to fall back to his side. “Do you want to stay with Sarah?”

  What I want is to stop being this person that isn’t me. To return to who I was before Luther and Greece and violation. I want peace. Normalcy. And more than anything, I want to be whole.

  Sarah meets my gaze from over his shoulder, her lips tweaked in conniving satisfaction. “She’s a hassle you don’t need.”

  The truth hurts. But there’s confusion, too.

  Sarah is enjoying this, and I don’t know why.

  “Shut it,” Luca growls, his eyes softening in my direction. “Tell me the truth, shorty. Do you want to get out of here?”

  Sarah’s smirk grows as she winks at me.