CHAPTER FOUR

 

Luca

 

I STOMP UP THE porch steps to the expensive-looking pristine white house and stop at the front door. Thumps come from inside from a stereo system. Lifting my hand, I use the side of my fist to bang loudly on the black door.

As soon as it swings open to reveal just the person I’m looking for, I reach out and wrap my hand around his throat. His glassy eyes spring wide open. I shove him inside and kick the door closed behind me. I keep my forward momentum until I have him slammed against the wall. He grabs at my wrist and tries to pry my hand away. It only pisses me off, so I squeeze a little harder. His face turns red and his grunts of distress fill my ears.

A magical fucking sound.

“You made a big mistake fucking with my sister, Chase,” I snarl in his face.

His eyes widen more and sweat from fear beads on his forehead. I feel his throat bob as he tries to swallow under my palm.

My reputation isn’t just known on my side of the tracks. It’s known on this side too. That he thought he could get away with fucking over my sister makes him stupider than he looks.

When his face turns a purplish red and his eyes start bugging out, I loosen my grip just enough for him to pull in a wheezy breath.

“I d-don’t know what y-you’re t-talking about,” he manages to get past his constricted airway.

I bare my teeth and add more pressure around his throat.

“Are you calling my sister a liar?”

“No,” he croaks.

My fist lands in his ribs and the strength behind the punch has his body trying to double over, but my hand around his neck keeps him against the wall.

“Did you really think you could touch my sister and get away with it?”

I don’t give him a chance to answer, even if he could, before I grip his shoulder, yank him down, and ram my knee into his gut. The force of the blow has his feet lifting from the floor and when he comes back down, he falls to his knees. I push back the hair that’s fallen in my face and glare down at the piece of shit.

I take my eyes away from him when I see a flash of yellow in my peripheral vision.

“I should have fucking known,” I state venomously. Pointing my finger at a quivering Cora, I grind out, “You stay right fucking there, bitch.”

She freezes in place, and I look back down at Chase. He’s fallen to his side, clutching his stomach and glaring up at me with loathing in his eyes.

“You’re pretty damn desperate to go for a bitch like Cora, Chase.”

“It was her,” he says between clenched teeth. “She wanted me to do it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt, because that’s just something the low down and dirty bitch would do.”

I ignore Cora’s sharp intake of breath and squat down beside Chase.

“You’re going to listen, and do exactly as I say.” I lean down further. “You stay the fuck away from Ella. If you see her, you run the other fucking way. You hear her voice, you better hide like your life depends on it. Because it does. You don’t speak her name. You don’t even think about her. If I find out you’ve done any of those things, I’ll come for you, and by the time I’m finished, even your daddy won’t recognize you. You understand?”

Sensing he doesn’t get the importance of what I just told him when he doesn’t immediately reply, I reach for the collar of his red polo shirt, yank him up, and slam my fist into his jaw. Blood spurts from his mouth and splatters on the floor. Not nearly satisfied, I jerk him back to me and land another punch.

The third time I pull him to me, he flinches. Bringing his face close to mine, I enunciate each word slowly. “Do. You. Fucking. Understand?”

Blood coats his lips and dribbles down his chin when he mutters, “Yes.”

“Good.”

Just for good measure, and because he beat not only a woman, but a woman who is my sister, I sucker punch the bastard again. He falls limply to the floor. I turn back to Cora, who I’ve been watching out the corner of my eye.

I slowly stalk toward her. She looks terrified. Just as she should be. She backs up until she hits the wall. Holding her hand out like that will stop me, she begins to plead.

“Please, Luca. I’m so—”

Her words end on a squeak as I knock her hand away. Using the same hand I used on Chase, I grip her throat tight. I’ve never hit a woman in my life, but right now it takes everything in me to refrain from hitting Cora.

“It would be wise of you to stay on this side of the tracks from now on. If I see, hear, or smell your rotten scent again, I’ll make your life a living hell. I may not be the type to hit a woman, but I know plenty of women who will do it for me.”

Squeezing a little tighter, I pull her toward me, then slam her back against the wall. Her hands shake as she grabs my arm.

“You get me, Cora?”

I loosen my grip to give her room to answer.

“Y-yes,” she stutters.

I release her and give her one more nasty look before I turn on my heel. I don’t spare Chase a glance as I walk past him. I’m at the door when his scratchy, pathetic voice reaches my ears.

“You won’t get away with this. My father will—”

I interrupt him. “Your father may be just as dirty as you and have gotten you off on assaulting Ella,” I turn and face him, “but I have connections too. Do you really want to test me on that?”

It’s been two days since Ella came home from the hospital, and one day since Chase was acquitted of assault charges and released from jail. I know his father, Spencer Leeway, had something to do with. He’s some big shot defense attorney that works in the city. It came as no surprise when the prosecutor said Chase was cleared because he had an alibi. I’m sure his alibi was conveniently one of Chase’s equally rich friends.

I take his silence as his answer and turn back to the door, flinging it open so it slams against the wall and rattles some pictures. I climb in my truck and peel away from the curb, sending up dust in my wake.

 

 

I END UP BACK at the hospital after leaving Chase on the floor of his house. I don’t worry he’ll call daddy and have me arrested. Although him thinking I wouldn’t come looking for him after what he did suggests otherwise, he’s not stupid. With a daddy like he has and all the crooked shit he’s done, he knows there’s ways of doing shit without getting caught. Chase himself did it when he got his buddies to fake his alibi.

I’m sitting in my truck in the parking lot fighting two urges. One is to go back and finish pulverizing Chase, but there’s another pull that’s stronger. To visit Jules again. It’s late, after midnight, so I know I could get into her room easily without being noticed. I have no business seeing her, but my curiosity about the comatose woman eats at me.

What happened to her? Where is she from? Why doesn’t she have family that visits her? Why has she been coming to me in my dreams for years? And why does she keep asking me for help?

The last two questions I may never get the answers to, and it frustrates the hell out of me.

Opening the door, I get out of my truck and pocket my keys. There’s a cool breeze outside as I walk across the parking lot.

A woman sits behind the front counter when I walk through the sliding glass doors. I don’t look at her as I pass by. The key to looking inconspicuous is to act like you belong. She lifts her head for a moment, but then drops it back down to her computer monitor.

I step into the elevator, ride up three floors, then step off. The lights in the hallway seem to be dimmer than they are during the day, and most of the patient rooms are dark. Luckily, I don’t have to walk by the nurses’ station as I make my way to Jules’s room. The door is open all the way and a glance inside shows the room is empty except for the woman in the bed.

I walk in and a sweet, familiar scent hits me. Wildflowers. The same scent I smelled in my dream on Silver Landing, which tells me it’s not an artificial scent, but Jules’s natural one. This time, she’s lying flat on her back. It’s apparent the nurses come in and move her around to prevent bed sores from forming.

It’s dark in the room except for a soft light over the bed that’s turned down low. I walk up and look down at the beautiful woman. Her brown eyelashes rest against her smooth cheeks and the thick rope of her long braid lies on the pillow beside her head. With her hands resting on her stomach, she almost looks like a child peacefully sleeping.

Pure innocence. That’s what she portrays.

I reach out and finger the loose end of her braid. I haven’t dreamed about her since the night I first walked into her room, and for the first time since I started having them, I feel the loss of their absence. Now that I know she’s real, I want to know what the dreams mean.

I lift the end of her braid and bring it to my nose. Closing my eyes, I inhale. I’m surprised when I smell something fruity instead of the antiseptic scent of the basic shampoo hospitals normally use.

Spotting a chair on the other side of the vital signs monitor, I put her braid back down and go grab it. I place it beside the bed where I have a clear view of the door, so I can see if someone comes in.

Taking a seat, I lean back in the chair with my elbows propped on the armrests, lace my fingers together, and rest my chin on them. I stare at the woman for long moments, thinking of the puzzle of her role in my dreams. With the late hour and the adrenaline dump from my visit to Chase, my eyes become scratchy with sleep.

I jerk my head up when I hear a noise at the door. Something black flashes across the doorway, and I jump up to see what it is. By the time I look out into the hallway, there’s nothing there. Uneasiness creeps across my spine. Obviously, it was either someone like me who was not supposed to be here, didn’t want me to know they were here, or didn’t want to visit while someone else was visiting.

My eyes catch on Nurse Edith, who’s standing at a shelf holding supplies, looking at me. I tip my chin at her, hoping she won’t force me to leave. A soft look enters her eyes and she smiles gently before turning and walking away.

With one final look up and down the hallway, I walk back into the room and retake my seat, my tiredness from moments ago wiped away. Keeping the doorway in my peripheral vision, I settle my eyes back on the woman and simply watch her.