CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

Luca

 

I LIE IN BED, STIFF as a fucking board, for over an hour. My mind is all over the damn place, but one thing keeps pushing to the forefront.

Rape.

I close my eyes and clench my jaw.

I raped Jules. Or according to Theo I did. My worst fucking nightmare. The one thing I refused to think as I tried to remember what happened that day over seven years ago. That’s what has plagued me the most, because if someone is twisted and fucked in the mind enough to fixate on a woman and attack her, then he’s capable of even more heinous acts. Like fucking rape.

Thousands of icy shards of pain stab at my chest when I think of hurting Jules in that way. How in the fuck could I do something so violent? I’ve always had a volatile temper, and I’ve done some pretty fucked-up shit in my life, but that’s never something I would have thought I would be able to do.

I’m still not sure I believe Theo, but I can’t imagine him lying about something so vile and repulsive. Nevertheless, even the thought of it being a possibility makes me want to dip my head in acid to rid myself of the images conjuring in my head.

What I don’t understand is Jules’s utter lack of fear toward me. Sure, I saw the initial shock and pain on her face after Theo spewed those hateful and damning words, but once he left, that pain was gone and there was no fear. What amazed me more was she wanted to stay. I was half expecting her to leave with Theo. But then again, her memories of me supposedly raping her are absent. Theo’s attempted rape is fresh. Of course, she would pick the lesser of the two evils. But when I mentioned her staying with my parents, a place where she would be completely safe from both of us, she refused. And that shit I just don’t understand.

I also think about the look I saw in her eyes as she was doctoring my hand. I felt her nervous tremors, but I saw a deep-seated need too. A need that called to me, despite the abhorrence of what I was accused of. Disgust slithers in my stomach as I remember the desire that coursed through me, is still coursing through me, but no matter how much I try to push it away, it’s still fucking there.

I’m going to burn in hell and deserve every minute of it for wanting something I should never want. For taking something that was never mine to have. I’m going to make sure Theo is right there with me too.

My blunt nails bite into my palms as I think about the damage I wanted to deliver to his fucking face. I waited until I knew Aria wasn’t with him before landing two good punches, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The only thing that stopped me from exacting vengeance on Jules’s behalf was sensing her approach from behind me. I didn’t want her to see that side of me, because I seriously doubted my ability to stop once I really got started. Images of him on top of Jules, forcing himself on her, played over and over in my head until it nearly blinded me with rage.

Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I get up from the bed. Feeling like a perverted asshole, I still make my way out of my room and stop at the door partially opened next to mine. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find the door closed and locked. I know I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do, but there’s no way I’ll be getting any sleep tonight without checking to make sure she’s okay.

I gently push the door the rest of the way open and my eyes alight on her sleeping form. Even in the dark, her gorgeous, thick, brown hair shines, tempting me to run my fingers through the soft strands. Her back is facing me as I slowly walk up to the bed. I miss sitting with her as she sleeps. I miss watching the rise and fall of her chest. I miss being able to run my eyes over her delicate flesh without fear of freaking her out. I could look at her all fucking day long and it wouldn’t be enough.

I ache with the need to crawl into bed with her. Not in a carnal way, although that’s something I’m trying my best to ignore, but to simply hold her. Just to have her back pressed to my chest, my arms around her waist, and my face buried in her hair, breathing her in.

When she releases a sigh and her legs move in her sleep, I freeze in place. The last thing that needs to happen is for her to catch me watching her as she sleeps. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes when her wildflower sent assails me, then take several steps backward until I’m standing in the doorway. I watch her for a couple more minutes before reaching for the doorknob and closing the door back to where it was before.

Instead of going back to bed, I head toward the kitchen and the bottle of cheap whiskey I have in the cabinet above the fridge. I forego using a glass and tip the bottle to my lips. I grit my teeth as the liquid burns my throat. It mingles with the burning in my chest that I’ve felt for the last several hours.

A quarter of the bottle is gone by the time I put it back in the cabinet, but thankfully the incessant need to go back to Jules’s room has waned slightly. My steps are measured, and I purposely don’t look at the door beside mine as I pass by it. I whip off my T-shirt as I make my way to bed. Slipping on a pair of sweatpants in case Jules needs me throughout the night, I crawl in bed.

 

 

I’M BEHIND THE FRONT counter at Ink Me looking over the appointment book. Dale, one of the artists working for Dad and a long-time friend of his, is talking to Jerry at the other counter about finishing up the big-ass skull tattoo that’ll cover his entire back. I glance up when the bell over the door jingles, thinking it’s my next client. A short brunette dressed in designer jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater walks in, looking too young and innocent to be in a place like this. Excitement mars her pretty face as her eyes immediately light on the wall full of sketches my dad and I have done.

I shake my head. The girl probably just turned legal today and is on a high wanting to get a tattoo. Not because it’ll be meaningful, but to sow some weird wild oats.

I glance back down at the appointment book, deciding to let Dale handle the girl, when my head snaps back up. Another girl walks in, and I feel like some fucking pussy because I’d swear to Christ, time comes to a screeching halt and my heart stops beating. It just sits there in my chest, feeling like dead weight for all of five seconds before it starts slamming against my sternum.

Holy goddamn hell.

She’s absolutely fucking gorgeous, with long thick brown hair, round face, olive complexion, and eyes that glow a bright amber. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings that mold to her shapely body and a cream-colored long-sleeved shirt, the cuffs covering the heels of her palms. It’s plain to see she’s nervous being here from the way her eyes dart back and forth across the room and her teeth bite her bottom lip.

She looks as young as her friend, but that doesn’t stop my dick from turning to granite. I just hope like fuck I’m not lusting over a minor, especially one that looks like she doesn’t belong on this side of town.

My eyes are still locked on the brunette, who’s busy looking at the section dedicated to roses, when her friend traipses over to stand in front of me on the other side of the counter.

“Hi!” she chirps loudly.

Reluctantly, I pull my eyes away and look at her.

“Hey. You lookin’ for some ink?”

She flashes her smile and her teeth are so white it almost blinds me.

“Yes. My friend and I are going off to college in a few weeks and we’re celebrating by getting tattoos.”

I barely contain an eye roll. “Do you know what you want?” I ask.

My head twitches with the need to look back at the brunette when I notice her making her way down the wall closer to the counter.

“Not really. Just something pretty.” She turns to her gorgeous friend. “Hey, Jules, come over here.”

Jules. The name couldn’t have been more perfect.

When Jules turns to her friend, her expression appears nervous. Her fingers grip the ends of her sleeves as she makes her way over.

“I don’t know about this, Nicole….”

Her words trail off when her eyes lift to mine. I feel like someone just sucker punched me and stole all the breath in my lungs. Seeing her from across the room is nothing compared to seeing her full-on. I let my gaze show my appreciation and her eyes widen. Her face, naturally beautiful with minimal makeup, flushes at my blatant interest.

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and I’d give my left nut to lick away the moisture she left behind. Hell, I’d be willing to give both nuts. I’ve had a lot of women since the first time I had sex at the age of fourteen, but never has one caught my attention so fully before.

Once she’s standing beside her friend, her eyes fall from mine.

“I don’t think I can do this, Nicole,” she says quietly. Even the sound of her soft voice sends blood rushing to my dick.

“Come on, Jules. It can’t be that bad,” whines the one named Nicole.

Jules’s eyes slide to me, but they’re aimed at my chest and not my eyes, where I want them. I keep mine pinned on her.

“Maybe I’ll get one next time,” she tells her friend. “But I’ll stay here with you while you get one.”

“Fine,” she grumbles.

Dale walks up just then. “Afternoon, ladies. Are either of you looking to get a tattoo?”

Nicole turns away from Jules. “I am.” She throws her thumb sideways. “This one chickened out.”

I can’t see it, because I’m still looking at Jules, but I hear the smile in Dale’s voice. “That’s okay. I’ll get you taken care of.”

“I’ve got it, Dale.”

“Don’t you have an app—”

I cut him off. “I’ve got this one. You take my appointment.”

I look over at Dale and let him see I’m not budging. I’ve never used my status as the boss’s son, but in this instance I sure as fuck will. His eyes leave mine just long enough to look at Jules before coming back to mine. Understanding dawns, and one corner of his mouth quirks up.

“You got it.”

When I turn back to the girls, I see Jules quickly drop her eyes from mine. As she looks down at a sketchbook on the counter, her face once again flushes a pretty red.

As I take Nicole’s ID and have her complete a consent form, one thought keeps entering my mind.

This girl will be mine, no matter what the fuck I have to do.

 

 

I WAKE TO THE SMELL of bacon and coffee. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I never ate last night. Theo showed up right as the food was done, and my stomach was in too many knots after he left.

I get out of bed, slip on a shirt, and go to the bathroom. After, with my feet still bare, I go out to the living room. Over the bar, I spot Jules standing in front of the stove. I walk to the bar and lean against it, deciding to just watch her for a few minutes.

As I stand there, I remember my dream from last night. No, it was more than a dream, it was a memory. I still don’t remember her or those six weeks that I lost, but I have no doubt in my mind that what happened in my dream was real. I may not remember her, but I know the feeling I had in that dream. It’s one I’ve had since the first time I saw her in the hospital. I just wish I knew what happened afterward. That must have been right before she and Theo started dating, or she would have recognized me. Especially since he and I looked more alike back then, with us wearing our hair the same way. Was that when my fixation on her started or did something else happen to trigger it? Either way, it’s apparent I was attracted to her and wanted her from that moment on, but I still struggle to believe I would be manic enough to attack then rape her when I found out they got married. That shit is just too fucking much for my brain to comprehend. Or maybe it’s just because I don’t want to believe it.

Sensing my presence, she looks over her shoulder. Turning partially toward me, a pair of tongs in her hand, she offers a hesitant smile. Hating her uncertainty, I smile back at her.

“Good morning,” she greets.

“Morning.” I lean my elbows on the bar. “Did you sleep well?”

She nods then turns back to the stove to flip the bacon over before facing me again. “I slept better than I have in a long time.”

Something dark hits my stomach. I have no doubt the stress of living with someone she doesn’t remember is hard enough to handle. I’m sure adding in the fact that he obliterated an already precarious trust by attacking her makes it damn near unbearable.

I want to smash my fist into Theo’s face again at the thought. I didn’t do near enough damage like I wanted.

Jules clearing her throat brings me back to the moment.

“How did your conversation go with your parents yesterday?”

Walking to the coffeepot, I pour myself a cup and take a seat on one of the stools before answering.

“They know something’s up, but aren’t pushing the issue after I told them I couldn’t explain yet.”

She turns away, but I see her worriedly biting her bottom lip. She opens a cabinet, looks inside, not finding what she’s looking for, and closes it again.

“Second cabinet to the right of the stove,” I tell her.

Looking at me gratefully, she moves to the correct cabinet and pulls down two plates. After placing several pieces of bacon, two scoops of eggs, and two pieces of toast on it, she sets the plate down in front of me. Grabbing the butter and jelly from the fridge, she deposits them next to my plate.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked your toast, so I left them dry.”

“Thank you.”

Instead of eating, I watch as she makes her own plate. Her hair is braided over one shoulder, and it reminds me of the times I saw her when she was still in a coma. I try not to let my eyes wander, but they do so of their own accord. She has on a pair of mint-green cotton pants and a black V-neck T-shirt. My stupid fucking eyes notice the tiny bit of cleavage the V shows. I glance down at my coffee and silently reprimand myself.

Once she’s done, she carries her plate, along with her coffee, to the stool next to mine and we eat in companionable silence. It feels nice to do something so simple as share a meal with her.

I set my fork down and finish off the rest of my coffee.

“I have to go in to work in a couple of hours.” I notice her shoulders stiffen. “I’d like for you to go with me.”

When she lifts her head, the relief is apparent on her face. “I’d like that.”

Glad that she agreed, because I wouldn’t put it past Theo to come by and try to talk her into returning home with him, I get up from the stool. Grabbing both of our empty plates, I carry them to the sink.

“I can do the dishes,” she offers a few feet behind me.

“You cooked, I’ll clean.”

“Okay.” She hesitates for a moment before asking, “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

I turn to her. “For as long as you’re staying here, I want you to treat this house like it’s your own, okay?”

A smile tugs up her lips. “Okay. Thank you.”

I turn back to the sink, blow out a harsh breath, and run hot soapy water in the basin. I’m both nervous and anxious to see her reaction once she’s in Ink Me, wondering if it’ll spark a memory.