LUCIEN

 

I PACE THE floor several feet away as Jackson hovers over Adeline on the couch in the living room, assessing the damage that was done.  Watching his fingers trailing over her perfect, delicate skin is making me insane with jealousy.

I don't even want to think about what the gardener did to her.  The thought makes me rage with an anger I never knew before and makes me want to burn the entire world and everyone in it to the fucking ground.

If only she hadn't run.

But I can't change the past.  I can only make her obey me in the future.  I'm sure she's learned her lesson, but she can't be allowed to leave me.

Ever again.

I've never felt so fucking helpless as I watch Jax dressing her wounds and evaluating her condition.  Adeline lies motionless on the couch, in and out of consciousness due in part from the medications Jax has given her to help with the pain.

The smell of blood and antiseptic takes me back to a time when my uncle finally rescued me from my wretched life.  The first stop was to the hospital.  I fucking hate hospitals.  I hate doctors too, even though they were only trying to help me.  I had grown to abhor being touched long before that day, and I almost lost my mind in that hospital from being poked and prodded over and over again.

Growing up, I feared any kind of affection only because I knew where it would eventually lead — soul-shattering pain.

My mother would cuddle up to me sometimes just to get me out of my hiding spots in the back of the closet or from under a bed or sofa.  I fell for her tricks many times, but they all ended up the same way.  Her smiling face would soon twist and morph into a horrible mask of hatred.  All those soothing words would slowly turn into hate-filled screams.  She would beat me until I couldn't walk, until I was a hollow, numb shell of my former self.

That's where her affection for me always led.  The same horrible path every goddamn time.

My attention snaps to Jax as he slowly stands and walks over to me on the other side of the room.  "She has a gash and a huge bump on the back of her head and a mild concussion," he tells me.  "Lacerations, contusions, bruises.  Lots of them," he adds.  Swiping a hand down his face, he shakes his head.  "She'll heal from all of those with time and rest."  His eyes meet mine, and he hesitates for a long time, his brows furrowing.  "Was Adeline…raped?" he asks so quietly I almost don't hear him.

The question chills me down to my very bones.  I think about the situation I walked into.  Adeline half naked and struggling on the bed while Rafael had his dirty, disgusting fingers wrapped around her delicate neck.  His pants were still on, but his tiny cock was sticking out, rubbing against her thigh, trying to find its way into her core as he strangled her almost to the point of death.

Pulses of anger flash through me, causing my entire body to tremble with disquieting wrath.  My hands clench into fists at my sides as the dark muscle in my chest pumps black blood faster and faster through every vein in my body.

I stare at Adeline's prone form, my vision clouding from the rage swirling around in my mind.  She's helpless and so damn innocent.  And she didn't ask for any of this.

If I had the chance, I would kill Rafael all over again.  I would take his life again and again without even a moment's hesitation.

He touched what's mine.  He stripped Adeline of her innocence and became the ultimate boogeyman to her nightmares.

And the sad part is…I know exactly what she's going through.  I know that fear and anxiety.  I know it all too well.

"Lucien," Jax says softly, clasping his hand over my shoulder and shattering my thoughts.

My eyes meet his with a murderous glare, and he quickly relinquishes his grip and takes a step back. 

Smart move on his part.

I step away as well, not trusting myself right now to not murder everyone in sight and take my anger out on the people who truly don't deserve it.

The man who does deserve all of my hatred is dead, unfortunately, and I deeply regret not prolonging his suffering.

Raking my fingers through my hair in desperation, I meet Jax's concerned gaze.  "No," I croak out the answer to his question.  "I think I got to her just in time."

Jax nods solemnly and goes back to Adeline, kneeling down beside the couch.  He murmurs softly to her even though she's now dead to the world thanks to the pain pills he gave her.  And then I watch as he gently brushes the back of his knuckles against her soft cheek.

I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through clenched teeth.  Jax is lucky that he's family, or he'd be dead right now for touching my girl.

My girl?

I don't know exactly when the switch flipped, but this possessive need over Adeline has been in full force the past few hours.  I don't want anyone touching her or even fucking looking at her.  And I want — no, need to keep her safe at any cost.

In that same respect, I realize she's my biggest weakness, and I've never allowed myself to have one before.  In the work that I do, I always have enemies, big or small.  And I never worried about death.  I know it will come for me eventually and probably brutally.

But now…now I have something worth living for.  I have someone worth living for.  And the only reason I would willingly leave this earth is if I was sacrificing my life for hers.

My legs carry me over to both of them before my brain has a chance to stop me.  Jax stares lovingly down at the sleeping beauty…her face now marred with cuts, scrapes and deep, purplish bruises…but still just as beautiful as ever.

"I'm going to clean and dress her wounds.  The bruising should go away within a couple of weeks," Jax tells me.

The thought of seeing the evidence of what happened tonight in the upcoming weeks ahead nearly guts me.  Her flawless skin will be tarnished with perfect reminders of what took place, and I won't even be able to look at her without feeling the profound guilt of the fact that I didn't protect her when she needed me most.

Every cut and scratch on her is like another slice to my black soul, slowly stabbing me from the inside out.

This is all my fault.  If only I had let her go…none of this would have happened.

"Take care of her, Jax," I grit out before walking away from them.

Unable to take any more self-loathing, I force myself from the room and go to my office where I know there are two loyal friends who I usually try to stay away from, but who are always waiting for me — Jack and Jameson.