“The town isn’t dangerous,” she said as the others gathered around her. She felt the shield of masculinity momentarily sideswipe her. She was so hurt, so fragmented inside, she couldn’t even comprehend the feelings erupting inside of her.
She felt Gabriele’s hand touch her hand. She tightened up, and he gave a light squeeze. “You’re scared, and that’s not our intention. We were just showing concern for you walking home in the dark.”
“For walking in the woods all alone,” Salvatore added.
“As safe as Pearl is overall, there are still ways that bad people can infiltrate it. The woods are not regularly patrolled,” Maxwell told her next.
She looked at them. She tried to be understanding toward this rule of Pearl. If she weren’t so scared to trust what they were saying, she would find the idea of the men watching over and protecting women and children to be noble and amazing. It would impress her if she could only stop focusing on her attraction combined with her fears.
She never got counseling. She never told another person after confiding in the woman who was supposed to be her mother, her rock, and now here she was fighting to be strong. Strong enough to take care of herself, even though this town had these men conditioned to be protectors. Stronger than she felt, especially at night when she was all alone in bed wishing she had someone she could trust that could hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.
But she was all alone in this godforsaken world, and this too-good-to-be-true town with its ideal fantasy-type rules and circumstances that were so foreign to her. These men were older, very attractive, and could pick and choose what woman they wanted to have sex with, date, or make theirs for however long. Were they interested in her because she was the new stranger to town? The woman who knew nothing of their pasts, or of their true agenda?
Her anger grew almost as strong as her fears of accepting their word as reality and truth.
She held on to the fence and stared at the abundant amount of pumpkins carved, lit, and glowing in the dark fall night. The crisp air stung her Southern cheeks as the wind picked up again and had her shivering despite the coat she wore. That was another example of the caring, giving, and compassionate ways of this town. The way the women reached out to help even when there was no sound of a scream, a needy plea. Anna and Diane knew she needed a coat. They were giving, understanding, and she didn’t feel like a loser but instead like she could still have her pride as she made the monetary donation.
She needed to learn more about the rules of Pearl, and about what made this town tick. But she couldn’t let these four men explain. The trust wasn’t there. She didn’t trust anyone, and that was the reality of being a victim of violence, an object never loved, and only being a tool, a possession to obtain a fortune.
“Lucia?” She heard Salvatore’s voice, and she ignored him as she shifted her backpack and pulled it toward her so she could open up the front zipper. Glancing at him as he stood there, arms crossed, expression appraising, guarded, dark in a way with his big rottweiler next to him, she pulled out the flashlight, zipped her bag, and placed it back into position. The others joined them as she lifted the hood to her jacket a littler snugger against her neck to block the wind.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer asked her. She glanced at all four men, big, muscular, extremely attractive, and older, and she felt the tightness in her chest. She thought it was intimidation or fear, but then she spoke and the emotion became clear.
“I don’t need watching over. I’m leaving now. Don’t follow me, don’t talk to me, please, just leave me alone and play your games, your power trips with some other woman. I don’t need it.” She turned and headed away, as guilt—guilt—consumed her and her gut instincts told her she was out of her mind.
* * * *
Lucifer looked at Salvatore then Gabriele and Maxwell. Maxwell nodded toward Lucia and the direction she was going en route to the exit from the display.
He didn’t need to say it. They all were in agreement, even Salvatore, who started following her with Brutas by his side.
Lucifer nodded and joined Salvatore in the evening walk, as guards to a young woman who seemed quite special indeed. So special that she snagged the attention of four hardened men. Brothers, who believed their destinies, their futures, involved loneliness reminiscent of their own indiscretions. He couldn’t speak for his brothers’ emotions or feelings, but Lucifer felt this change in him. There was an emotion, an effect, a reaction, all caused by Lucia. It intrigued him, and made his mind wonder over possibilities of what may come of it.
* * * *
Lucia was practically shaking. She was trying so hard to ignore the feelings and reactions going through her. She was touched, aroused, intrigued by the four men, two of whom were escorting her home despite her telling them off. That giddy eruption of arousal was what really pissed her off. How could she be so stupid? How could she allow these men, strangers, to affect her like this just because of their good looks, their maturity, and of course their muscles? They were gorgeous, big men. No one would dare try anything with them. Her own bodyguards. She wished she had met them in South Carolina. Perhaps they would have been able to stop Derek.
She shook the thoughts from her head. They weren’t her bodyguards, and they didn’t really care about her or want to get to know her. They were appeasing rules of this town. Rules that put women and children first, a
nd they were treating her like some naïve child. The anger boiled up inside of her as she abruptly turned and faced them by the entrance to the long, deep woods before another field and the Anderses’ home.
“Why are you following me?” she demanded to know.
“We’re just out for an evening walk, Ma’am. We walk every night,” Salvatore replied.
She looked him over. Standing there in his dark jeans, cowboy boots, and thick, hunter-green flannel that enhanced his size and his muscles. She felt her pussy actually spasm. She quickly looked at Lucifer, one hand on his hip, the other on Brutas’s head petting the large dog. His dark-brown eyes bored into hers, making her feel like a child being reprimanded for asking a stupid question. He, too, was dressed in jeans, boots, and a flannel jacket. His was brown with tan, and he looked just as good as Salvatore. She gulped.
She felt the cold nose against her hand as Brutas nudged it and whined.
She looked at the dog, bent down, and held his huge face between her hands as she spoke to him.
“Are they telling the truth, Brutas? Do they take you for a walk every night?” she asked, and Brutas licked her from chin to forehead.
She laughed as she released him, petted his head, and stood up.
She saw the smirk on Lucifer’s face before she turned around and continued walking.
Their trek through the woods in the dark with her holding the small flashlight was a bit scary. She would probably be freaking out if it weren’t for the big dog and the two huge-ass men accompanying her. For a moment she feared the fact that she was letting her guard down and letting these men she barely knew accompany her home. But something deep inside of her, a sense, and a knowing instinct made those thoughts disappear. They trekked through the tougher terrain, slipping here and there on loose rocks and wet leaves. A few times one of them grabbed her arm before she fully lost her balance, and then she heard them mumble.