CHAPTER THIRTY

 

Luca

 

MY PHONE RINGS FOR the second time in the matter of minutes. Normally, I ignore calls while I’m inking a client until I get to a stopping point, but something’s nagging at me that I need to answer. I set my machine down, grab a paper towel, and spray some cleaner on the design I’m only halfway finished with.

“Take five. I need to grab this,” I tell Thomas.

“I need to take a piss anyway,” he responds, getting up from the chair.

I pull off my gloves and snatch up my phone. Two missed calls from Kale, the guy I have watching Theo’s house. Unease settles in my gut.

There’s also a text message from Jules that I don’t remember hearing the notification for. I pull up her message before calling Kale back.

Jules: I’m finished with my appointment. Don’t get angry, but I’m going to Theo’s. I left my locket that has my sister’s picture in it. I’ll grab Mr. Waffles while I’m there.

I scowl down at her message and notice it came in twenty minutes ago. What in the hell is she thinking? Yes, Theo hasn’t been around, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t show up at any time. The thought of her being there and him coming home sends fear racing through me. My fingers fly across the screen to bring up Kale’s number. Something doesn’t feel right, and Kale’s missed calls only makes the feeling worse.

It rings five times before it goes to voicemail. I try again and get the same thing. I hang up and dial Jules’s number next. It only rings twice before it goes to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I yell and launch my work table across the room. Shit goes flying everywhere, but I ignore it as I run out of the room. I really don’t fucking like this.

“Ella!” I yell my sister’s name.

“What’s going on?”

She’s already behind me, following me to the back room. I yank open the door that leads to where my truck is parked in the alley.

“Jules is at Theo’s and she’s not answering her phone. Tell Thomas to come back next week for me to finish. It’s on the house.”

“Wait!” Ella calls as I start closing the door. “What are you going to do?”

“What I should have done the first time he touched her without her permission.”

I leave it at that, slam the door behind me, and sprint to my motorcycle. I break every traffic law as I race toward Jules, my hands cramping on the handle bars. I send up prayer after prayer that she’s okay, and that I’ll have the will to not kill the bastard once I get my hands on him.

The whole way there, I keep calling Jules’s and Kale’s numbers, I’m beyond caring how dangerous it is. I know not to use a phone while riding, but my need to hear her voice is beyond overpowering and every time they don’t answer my anger and worry heighten.

Right as I’m pulling onto Theo’s street, Kale finally answers his phone.

“Where are you?” he asks, sounding out of breath.

“Pulling onto Hellmen. What in the fuck is going on?”

“Dude, get here quick. I think I just heard your girl scream from inside Theo’s house.”

A blistering pain takes residence in my stomach, followed closely by a rage so deep, so all-consuming, I can’t fucking see straight.

“Motherfucker!" I yell and pull on the gas harder then screech to a halt seconds later when I pull up in front of Theo’s house.

Just as I sling my leg over the tank and land both feet firmly on the asphalt, I see Kale running across the yard. I beat him to the porch steps. I don’t stop, just use my forward momentum and my shoulder to bust open the door. It only takes me seconds to see the destruction of the living room and the absence of Jules.

“Came from the back of the house,” Kale says, but I’m already running down the hallway.

My body convulses at what I see. My motherfucking twin hovering over Jules, blood dripping from his fucked-up ear and onto her bare chest as he frantically tries to pull down her pants.

She’s not moving. Not her arms, legs, or even her fucking chest. She’s just lying there, limp. My goddamn heart stops and my lungs painfully deflate.

She can’t be gone.

Fucking hell, she can’t be gone.

I completely lose it. Theo turns at my animalistic roar. Seeing the manic look in my eyes, he scrambles off the other side of the bed. I’m already there by the time his feet touch the floor and my fist is smashing into the side of his face. I follow him down, pleased to see a chunk of his ear missing. My girl put up a fight. I’ll finish it for her.

He throws up an arm, trying to block his face while his other flings out wildly, feebly attempting to hit me. I easily block it and land a hit to his jaw. Blood slings from his mouth and it only makes me want to see more. I want him to bleed out beneath me. He may be my blood, my twin, but he’s dead to me already, and I want to make it real. He doesn’t deserve to live. He’s a wasted piece of trash.

I grunt and bellow as I pound his face until it’s a bloody mess. Bone crunches beneath my fingers, teeth bite into my knuckles, blood sprays my face and chest, and he’s no longer moving. It’s not enough. If Jules is gone, it’ll never be enough. There’s nothing I can do to Theo that will make the pain of losing her easier.

Someone screams my name, but I’m too far gone in my rage to pay them any attention. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. It’s like I’m possessed and there’s no hope for whatever has a hold of me.

A broken cry, a sob of despair, and the scent of wildflowers have my movements slowing. I look up to the bed and see Jules’s face. At first, I think it’s just a vision, like one of my dreams, and my anger multiplies. It’s the blood on her face mixed with tears that breaks through my crazed state. She has a bruise on her temple, smeared blood all over her face, and her cheek is swollen and sporting a scrape, but she’s alive. She has to be because she’s looking at me over the edge of the bed. A dead person can’t do that.

I’m sitting on Theo one second and the next I’m on the bed with Jules. She’s on her knees, and I quickly crawl my way to her. I don’t stop until my legs are on either side of hers and my arms are around her middle. I pick her up and fall to my ass with her in my lap. My body hunches over her, and I cradle her in my arms. I didn’t stop to think of how I must look and her possible reaction to the violence still radiating off me, but luckily, she doesn’t seem to be fazed. She’s actually clinging to me just as much as I am to her, and that feels fucking amazing. I need her in my arms. I’m not sure I would have been able to handle it if she pushed me away.

“Fuck me, Jules. I was so scared I lost you.” My voice is raw even to my own ears.

I rock her gently back and forth as she cries in my arms. I’m man enough to admit my own tears drip on the top of her head. The thought of losing her is paralyzing. I squeeze my eyes shut and push the thought away. She’s not gone. She’s still breathing and here with me.

When I open my eyes again, I find Kale on his phone, hovering over Theo, I’m sure to make sure he doesn’t get up. If he’s still alive. Not one ounce of regret hits me when I think of my brother dead. Maybe it should, especially because what Theo has done is so out of character for him, but there’s nothing.

I glance down at him. His face is covered in exposed meaty flesh and blood. I look at his chest and see it rise and fall.

I bring my gaze back to Kale and see him pocket his phone. “Cops are on their way.” His eyes flicker to Jules. “So is an ambulance. I called a buddy of mine who has an uncle that’s a cop. He’s calling him so they don’t take fucking forever to get here.”

“Thanks,” I grunt gruffly.

My attention moves back to Jules. She’s shaking, but thankfully she’s no longer sobbing, just crying silently. I tangle my fingers in her hair and gently pull her head back. I need to see her face, not only to assess the damage, but also to reassure myself she’s alive.

Before I get a chance to take a good look, she implores brokenly, “Please take me out of here. I can’t stand to be in this room.”

Moving carefully, I slide across to the side of the bed Theo isn’t on and stand with her still in my arms. I cup the back of her head and put it against my chest, careful of the bruise on her temple, before turning back to Kale.

“Make sure he stays there until the cops get here.”

“Already on it.” His eyes are hard when he moves them to Theo’s still form.

I walk out into the living room and gingerly sit on the couch.

“Look at me, baby. Let me see your face.”

She lifts her head from my neck and the damage done to her face breaks my fucking heart. I gave her my promise that Theo wouldn’t touch her again. That promise was broken. Knowing that she came here on her own is unimportant. Theo should have never been able to reach her, and the fact that I wasn’t there to protect her will live inside me forever.

“Your face,” I rumble thickly. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t,” she croaks. “I came here knowing the risk I was taking.” She sounds so damn weak.

It doesn’t help. I still feel like a useless bastard.

When she shivers, it reminds me that her shirt is torn down the middle, leaving her chest exposed, except for her bra. I rip off my shirt, leaving me in a wife beater, and help her put it on.

I push her hair out of her face, being mindful of the bruise and the scrape on her cheek. Thankfully, the damage doesn’t seem to be too bad, but I still want her seen by a doctor. This time I’m not giving her a choice.

“The cops are on their way,” I tell her. “I want him arrested.” I strengthen my voice to let her know this time she has no choice but to press charges. I give her the God’s honest truth next. “If he’s not in jail, I’ll hunt him down and kill him.”

I don’t tell her that to scare her, but to let her know I’m dead fucking serious. And it’s true. The only thing that stopped me today was my need to make sure she was okay. Had she been gone or not stopped me, I would’ve kept at Theo until someone pulled me off him.

“Okay,” she answers weakly.

Her eyes drift closed, and it sends an alarm going off in my head. The bruise on her temple is starting to swell and turn a deep purple.

“Jules, baby, open your eyes for me.”

They flutter open, but I can tell she’s struggling. I’m no doctor, not even close to one, but I know it’s not safe for a person with a head injury to fall unconscious.

I give her a shake when they close again. “Don’t go to sleep. You need to keep your eyes open.” I can’t keep the panic from my voice.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbles. “I just want to sleep for a little while.”

Her body goes lax in my arms and fear slams through my system. I jolt her and silently curse when she whimpers in pain. I hear sirens in the background and thank God help is almost here.

Unexpectedly, Jules’s eyes pop open and the amber orbs stare at me.

Her voice is low when she murmurs, “There’s something I need to tell you.” I have to bend my head closer to hear her slurred words. “Theo isn’t… we’re not… married.” I frown and look down at her. Her eyes are barely open. “We… we’re married.”

Her eyes flutter closed again after that, leaving my world turned upside down, inside out, and suddenly very fucking confused.

Seconds later, it’s like her words break a dam loose, and I’m flooded with memory after memory.

The first time I laid eyes on her. It happened just as it did in my dream.

My uncontrollable need to know what she tasted like and her breathy moan when I kissed her in the hallway of Ink Me.

Talking on the phone to her at night and spending our days together as much as we could.

What she felt like when she gave me her body for the first time.

My unplanned proposal in the back of Ink Me.

What I don’t remember, and know now is a fucking lie, is me forcing myself on her. Or attacking her. He was the one trying to take her from me. The day of my accident was the day Jules and I were telling my parents about us. I had put the deposit down on a house in Westerly, the town where Jules wanted to go to college We were going to live there until she earned her degree, then come back and live in Braedon, the neighboring town, which would have worked perfectly because Dad would want to retire from the shop by then, and I’d buy him out. Jules was at home packing while I was taking care of last-minute errands. A car swerved in my lane, and I didn’t have time to miss it.

I glance down at Jules, seeing her chest moving, still shocked at the revelation, but so goddamn ecstatic. She’s my wife. We’re fucking married. Not she and Theo, but she and I. It was me she fell in love with. It was me she had planned to spend the rest of her life with. It was she and I who talked about having babies one day. We both wanted at least three.

Jules quickly became my life, and I know I became hers. The love I felt for her, still feel for her, is dynamic, explosive, and undeniable. It was strong and fast. It smacked me in the face and left me in a blissful euphoric haze. One I wanted to stay in forever.

Fury has my temper flaring and my body turning hard. Theo fucking lied over and over again. He twisted everything and made me out to be the lunatic who put Jules in her coma. He made me believe I was the one to rape her, when I have no doubt he was the one who did. All this time I hated myself, was disgusted I was capable of such violent acts. I so easily believed it, because why in the fuck would my own brother do that to Jules and me? I know why. It was his deranged and psychotic obsession with her. It wasn’t me who went off the rails, but him.

Voices carry from the front door, pulling me from my volatile need to go back in the bedroom and finish Theo off. A moment later, a cop walks through the busted door, followed by two more and a paramedic. They immediately spot me on the couch and the paramedic rushes over. His name tag says Brantley.

“She passed out a few minutes ago,” I inform him, my worry for Jules building again. “I think she hit her head.” While the paramedic sets his bag down and starts pulling shit out, I look at the cops. “The man who did this to her is in the bedroom. Kale, a friend of mine, is making sure he stays there. His name’s Theo.”

Two of them walk down the hallway, while the third stays behind.

“Sir, I need you to put her down on the couch, please,” says Brantley.

I really don’t like the idea of relinquishing my hold on Jules, but I know it needs to be done so he can assess her. Carefully, I stand and gently lay her on the couch. Another paramedic walks up, and they both start working on her. A lump forms in my throat as I watch them. They don’t seem to be real concerned about her being unconscious as they work slowly around her. I’m not sure if it’s because of the shitty way people are taken care of on this side of town or if it’s because her condition isn’t life-threatening. For their sake, it better be the latter, because if something happens and it was because of their carelessness, I’ll beat the fuck out of them and give not one fuck for the consequences.

“Sir, I need you to come this way so I can take your statement.”

I turn to the voice and scowl. He expects me to fucking leave Jules’s side? There’s no fucking way.

“I’m not leaving her,” I say forcefully. I stalk around to the back of the couch where I can still see Jules. “We can talk here.”

It’s apparent he doesn’t like being told what to do from his narrow look, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Luckily, after a moment, he follows my steps until he’s beside me, his little notepad in hand.

For the next fifteen minutes, my attention is divided between watching Jules, the paramedics, and answering the cop’s questions. I tell him everything I know, including my belief that he was the one to hurt Jules seven years ago, which resulted in her coma. I also tell him about the deception and about the three other times he’s tried to force himself on Jules. I hold not one detail back. If Theo breathes, I want him charged with every single fucking crime he committed.

When the paramedics start to load Jules on the stretcher, the cop tries to stop me from following. I barely refrain from the “fuck off” I want to deliver. However, from the dark look in my eyes, he accepts my response when I tell him I’ll be in tomorrow if there is anything else they need.

My stomach is in knots as I follow behind the paramedics. Jules still isn’t awake, and I don’t fucking like it. I climb inside the back of the ambulance and take the bench seat beside the bed. A hollow feeling forms in my throat when I look down at her. She has a neck brace on with a breathing mask over her face. I grab her hand, and I feel marginally better when I feel the pulse in her wrist.

I bend down until my mouth is at her ear.

“Hold on for me, baby,” I beg with a cracked voice. “Please just fucking hold on.”