Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Her loss punched a hole in my heart. My best friend is gone, and there is no way to bring her back. I don’t think about what I’m doing. I simply react. Dragging my hand up, I slap him hard across the face. His head jerks to the side as a wash of pain flares up my fingers and into my arm.
“What is wrong with you? Why would you say something so disgusting?”
Before I can fully grasp what is happening, another kind of pain hits me as his hand contacts my cheek. He hits me with an open palm, the sharp smack burning across my cheek. I can’t really say I’m surprised. Lucas isn’t the type of man you can hurt without hurting you back to the same degree. It should hurt more, but compared to the ache now taking root in my chest, nothing can hurt like that.
“Hit me again, and I’ll make sure it’s the last time.”
The pain means nothing to me, and I grit my teeth as I speak, “Then shut your fucking mouth about my sister. My sister. You didn’t even know her, so don’t talk about her.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is that the problem, Celia? You fear our relationship because if we share the same blood, maybe you’re a little more like me than you want to be? Maybe you have what it takes to make your father pay for what he took from you.”
I swallow against a wave of bile forcing its way up my throat and stare at the floor. It’s not that I fear I’m like Lucas. He’s more like his insane-ass brother than me. It’s that I fear what I’m going to do to my father the next time I see him, if what Lucas told me is true. And yet, even as I want to doubt every single word, I know in my heart he’s not lying. What does he have to lie to me for?
He shoves past me, causing me to stumble into the side of the counter. I use the cold countertop to steady myself and get a grip. If I don’t remain calm, I won’t be able to get out of here. That is, if he doesn’t ultimately plan to kill me.
I keep him in the corner of my eye as I walk back around to the stool and sit. He crosses the room and strips out of his shirt, then drags a heavy punching bag on a chain from the corner of the room.
“If you’re going to workout, then let me sleep.”
He delivers a solid punch to the grey vinyl, making it swing on its hook. “No, the only reason I’m doing this right now is so I don’t vent my frustration out on your face. Be grateful and start thinking of things I might want to know about your father.”
When he turns back to the bag, he starts up a furious pace against it. As each punch echoes through the room, I flinch, thinking about him hitting me with those powerful fists. With his shirt off and in actual lighting, I can see more of his skin. His scarred and bruised skin. Almost from the edge of his pants all the way up his shoulders are bruises in various stages of healing, old scars and nicks breaking up the purple splotches.
“What the hell happened to you?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t engage him. I should let him think I want to help him in whatever stupid thing he’s got planned.
Of course, he doesn’t deign to answer me, so I get up and cross the room to look at him better. Yes, all along his ribs are large rings of purple. Like someone took a baseball bat to his midsection. “Did Nicolo do that to you? You didn’t let him, right? Why would he hurt you like that?”
Even knowing what little I do about his brother, I can’t see him beating Lucas for no apparent reason. Not unless he did something that angered him. Nicolo punished me on every occasion he could think about, but usually never without a warning.
I move closer, standing a few feet from his elbow. “You should wrap those up and maybe ice them. They look painful.”
“I’m fine,” he grits out. “I like to fight on the weekend. You know, let loose. Some people go dancing, I’ll smash in someone’s skull. Same thing.”
I’m not surprised by his words, but I am surprised that he is sharing something about himself with me, no matter how cruel it is.
“Go sit down, or our little break from questioning is going to be over, and I promise, the next round will be far more physical.”
I wave at his body. “But it looks like you’re in pain. You could have broken ribs; you should see a doctor and get yourself checked out.”