Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3 (33 page)

I sympathise, because I also struggle with that date. It drives me fucking crazy, and I am a broken man every year and I do not think that will ever change. Instead of mourning, we should be celebrating and helping him blow out his birthday candles. It is so unjust.

Drinking some more scotch, I pace around the floor. Thoughts wash over me, leaving me mentally spent. Without looking at her, I sigh and apologise again for not being patient, for being disappointed in her when she never turned up for therapy with Casey.

We have both struggled to come to terms with it. We have both fought inner demons, both suffered a great and devastating trauma, but we both dealt with it in our own ways, and as a result we were unable to support one another.

She finishes her wine, which she has been nursing, and stands, walking over towards me. She stands beside me and rests her head on my shoulder. I fight the urge to pull her into a warm embrace and comfort her because my mind reels with so many thoughts.

After Lexi witnessed me holding her face earlier, and the thought of nearly losing her almost killed me, I do not want to cross the line and give Fran any indication that my feelings run deeper for her than they do. I want to respect Lexi and be loyal, so instead, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and casually hold on to her by her side while she cries.

Although hearing Fran finally open up has fucked with my mind, I thank her for being honest with me and sharing it and tell her how proud I am of her. By the time we go back to the dining room, I feel buzzed from the scotch and mentally shattered.

During dinner, the familiar stories of Sandro, Fran’s papa, add to my agitated mood. It was just a short time ago Fran was crying about Gabriel and now she looks crestfallen and upset all over again.

Downing my wine far too quickly to enjoy it, I hope it numbs some of the emotional pain I feel. My papa innocently asks Lexi about her parents. Shit, now she is going to be emotionally upset and torn.

“My father is dead. My mother … she is …” She hesitates, nervousness in her voice.

Whispering, I ensure her it is okay, but she continues.

“My mother is …
unwell
. She’s troubled emotionally and has been in and out of a psychiatric hospital for therapy over the years.” Lexi’s words nearly knock me off my chair.

Alive?

Unwell?

Hospital?

Then why the fuck would she say her mother was dead? She could tell me about her grandparents but not her actual mother. She has bigger issues than I thought if she was not able to tell me that. I thought she trusted me … I love her, I have never loved anyone as much, and all I want is for her to confide in me and that means being honest.

It is like Fran all over again. I have had the most exhausting and challenging afternoon than I have had in a long time, and now I find out not only did Lexi lie about her mother … she is keeping things from me.

Dropping my hand, my body tenses, jaw ticks. Feeling buzzed from the booze, I exhale a sigh of disappointment and silently ask myself if I am destined to be fucked with? I just do not get how she can go from needing to write in a journal to tell me about her family one minute, yet she sits at a table with practically strangers and shares this off the cuff.

I get that it is hard for her, and she obviously has had a fucked-up past, but it hurts that she was not able to tell me or to confide in me. That is all I want, to be the one person in her life that can protect, cherish, and love her.

What is next? Is she going to sit at a table of strangers and tell them how she got her scars before she tells me the truth? After saying goodbye to Fran and Donita, I need to cool off and clear my head. Grabbing my wine glass, I head into the study and slam the door.

Gulping back the wine, I see a crystal decanter in a cabinet filled with tempting amber fluid. Papa only buys the best, so fuck it. I will have that as well, anything to black out, because I am drained and confused.

Swigging a more than generous sized tumbler, it burns the back of my throat. Not satisfied it is enough, I greedily pour another. Lexi arrives, pleading to talk, but I am not in the right frame of mind to talk to her just now. I am drunk and it would not be fair to her.

There are many things I want to ask her, but tonight is not the night. She is upset too and I do not want to push her, but fuck, if I cannot contain my frustration and distress. Throwing back the scotch, I say we are leaving. I have had enough stress for one day.

In the car, she asks Marco to take her to my grandparents’ villa. I feel like a fucking prick for upsetting her like this, but I do not want her to leave me or be alone, and I seriously need her. She calms me. I love her for fuck’s sake, and there is no way I am letting her walk away. I am too fucking wasted to talk, never mind talk any sense. Tomorrow … I will ask her tomorrow.

Staggering into the farmhouse, I grab a beer and slump onto a patio chair outside, hoping the fresh air will do me good. Instead, it sends my head spinning and my intoxicated state hits at rapid pace.

Trying to focus, I see Lexi come outside and ask to talk … and everything else is practically a blur. I slur some pretty ignorant and horrible shit. I am looking for blame and need to vent my frustration. I know I sound like a bastard, but I have not control.

Next thing I know, she stands up and I know I have crossed the line of no return and she is going to leave me. The same way Fran left me … and Jasmine. They. All. Leave. Me.

Defensively, I retaliate, “What! Are you running too? Well, I suppose that is what fucked-up, crazy people do. You really are just like her. She runs, you run. Guess you will not need this, then.”

The words are out my mouth before I can stop them and without thinking I pick up her journal and fire it across the decking. She screams and backs away. I am losing her and rage uncurls inside me. SHE. IS. NOT. LEAVING. ME. TOO.

“No, you do not. You are staying here. Fucked-up or not, you are not going. I promised you and I love you.” Panicking, I stride towards her and pick her up. Everything seems distorted. She screams. She cries. My eyes blur. My head ready to explode.

Staggering.

Screaming.

Spinning.

Tumbling.

Falling.

Screaming.

Spinning.

Tumbling.

Falling.

Air leaves my lungs. I cannot breathe. I slump against the wall. I am numb. I am shocked. I cannot move. I cannot stand. Why is there silence? Where is she? I was holding her a minute ago. I think I was. I heard her. I felt her. I’ve lost her.

My chest hurts; I am ready to pass out. I cannot breathe. Everything hurts. My heart … it bleeds. My eyes are veiled with white shapes. I pass out.

Coming to, I groan and feel like I have been beaten up. I know I am pissed, I feel like I am swaying. What the fuck? Why am I on the ground? My head throbs like a bitch, and my stomach heaves. Grabbing the wall, I pull myself up, and then reality hits me like a fucking train.

Lexi.

No, no. No. No.

Lexi.

Looking around the alfresco area, dimly lit by light from inside the house, I notice broken plant pots, her journal scattered on the deck, and blood. Fuck, blood. My baby’s blood smeared all over the glass of the doors.

What the fuck have I done?

I shout again and again for her, but nothing but silence and the chirping of crickets. Closing my eyes, I try to remember. Shouting, screaming, staggering. Shit, I think I dropped her. I cannot recall fully, but I know I fell.

Christ, I stumble towards the door. Seeing the blood up close turns my stomach. Throwing my hand over my mouth, I hunch over a bush and vomit all the booze in my stomach until there is nothing left.

I am a useless bastard. A fucking monster. How could I be so selfish and rough? Why did I act like a fucking bad bastard? Why did I harm her and treat her like that? Everything is so messed up. I need to make sure my baby is okay. What if she is really hurt?

Trying to focus, I make my way into house and have no idea how much time has passed. I shout for her, checking every room, then I open the front door. Nothing but blackness. Lifting my car keys, I jump in and fly down the private dirt road, looking for her.

Just as I approach the end of the road, I see her in the distance, staggering, dragging her feet. Skidding to stop, I do not even turn the engine off. I jump out, scream, shout, beg, cry, plead, but she will not stop. She keeps going.

Noise.

Traffic.

Main road.

“Lexi, no! What the fuck are you doing? No, Lexi, stay there. You will get yourself killed. Please, baby, stay there,” I shout. They drive like fucking crazy and speed on the main roads. She will not stand a chance.

All I can think about is saving her, bringing her home, and making sure she is not hurt. Running, I am almost there. I almost have her. My blood runs colds.

Bright lights.

She stops.

Car skids.

Horns blare.

She collapses.

Car overturns.

Did it hit her? Fuck, fuck, fuck! My heart beats wildly, adrenaline surging through me. Everything is a blur. All I think about is Jasmine being run over and killed in the car park the night she ran away. Horrifying anguish tears me up. Panic, shock, terror, and fear grip me so tightly I feel like my heart will rip through my chest muscles.

No, not Lexi. He cannot have her. She is mine. He is not taking her.

I collapse next to her on the road, and I think the worst. Picking her up and holding her against me, I cry and scream. I kiss her and beg for her to wake up. I plead and I tear myself up until I am paralysed with numbness. Shaking, I continue screaming and praying, kissing her over and over.

The world stops spinning.

I stop breathing.

My blood stops pumping.

I am back in Hell. The trauma of the night swathes me in darkness, takes me under. Eyes closed, I hold her and I pray. I lose myself to the darkness surrounding and suffocating me. I am too scared to face reality. I am too scared to open my eyes. I am too scared of losing her.

Noise. Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. A paramedic. Chaos. They pull me aside and attend to Lexi. I hear them talk … clinical shit about smelling salts and oxygen, stretchers, something for the pain and IV drips. My baby … she is alive? She wakes up … she wakes up. I hear them. They have her, but she is in pain. She is hurt and I need to help her.

Scrambling over to her side, her eyes flutter open and I let go of the breath I have been strangling in my chest. Every fibre in my body unwinds. She is alive. Barging my way in, I hold her. Tears fall freely from my own eyes, and I thank God for saving her, for keeping her alive.

She fears me. In a coarse, broken, and faint voice she begs me to let go of her. She refuses to be held. She wants me away and does not want me to go with her to the hospital. The paramedics pull me back. They protest and Lexi whimpers in pain. I shout, I plead, and I push one of the paramedics out of the way.

Another paramedic, a strapping man, holds me back, I struggle to break free. He questions me about what happened. Dazed, I tell him what I know. He will not allow me to go with her because she does not want me in the ambulance with her. I am ready to fucking kill one of them with my bare hands.

They have Lexi on a stretcher, already wheeling her into the first ambulance, and the man driving the overturned car has been recovered from his vehicle and wheeled into the second ambulance. Just like that, the ambulances drive off into the dark of night, leaving only a few cars parked on the shoulder, spectating and watching the scene play out. One of them must have called for ambulances because I do not remember if I did.

Raking my hands through my hair, I hold the nape of my neck, look up and scream at nothing but the night air. Shakily, making my way back to my abandoned car on the dirt track, I call Marco and tell him come and get me immediately to take me to the hospital.

When I hang up, I throw the car door open, lurch forward, and vomit again. Wiping my mouth with a trembling hand, the phone buzzes. Quickly, I answer it. It is Fran … the paramedics called her. They found her business card in Lexi’s skirt pocket. I tell her I am on my way to the hospital, to call Nonna to let Hazel know, and then to call my mamma and tell her too.

I drive the car back to the farmhouse and wait on Marco. He arrives quickly because he is staying at his papa’s house not too far from here.

“Get in,” he snaps.

Leaning my forehead to rest in my cupped hands, he interrogates me. “What the fuck did you do? Why is she going to hospital? You are a fucking idiot. Did you hurt her? Please tell me you did not hurt her,” he says curtly.

“I fucked up, Marco, big this time. I fucked up.” My voice is broken.

He sighs. “Tell me, did you hurt her?”

“No … yes … not intentionally. It was an accident.” I swallow and look out the window. He sees the state I am in and hears the pain in my voice.

“Okay, Cap. Tell me what happened. Look, everything will be okay. She will be well looked after.” He softens his tone.

Fisting my hand to my mouth, I bite into my knuckles with pent up tension and suppress crying in front of Marco. Not that he would mind, he knows I am a big pussy, but I need to focus. This is about helping Lexi.

I relay the night, everything I remember. He is quiet while processing.

“So you do not even know what is wrong with her?” he asks.

“No. They would not let me go with her or talk to me. Anything could be wrong and I do not have a fucking clue.”

“I knew I should have taken her to Sofia and Franco’s. This would never have happened. You were too wasted,” he says with agitation.

“Just put your foot down and drive faster, goddammit.” I sit in silence the rest of the way.

Marco drops me off at accident and emergency, I rush to the desk and ask about Lexi, but they say she is in triage being assessed. They refuse to let me through. Marco joins me in the waiting room after he parks the car. I give the unhelpful receptionist my private medical insurance details and tell her Lexi is to get the best possible care. Money is no issue. I even offer her a wad of cash if she lets me through into triage.