“Where did you live before you moved here?” I ask curiously.
“A lot of different places. I moved from one foster family to the next until I aged out. Now I work and got my own place,” he explains.
“What do you do for work?”
“Something different every day. Odd jobs, I guess.” His answer is vague.
“What happened to your parents? Why were you in foster care?”
He chuckles. “First, you don’t talk at all, and now you come at me with all these questions.”
“Sorry.” My cheeks heat. “You don’t have to answer.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I never met my dad, and my mom died when I was little. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry your mom died. Mine left when I was eight.” On my eighth birthday, to be exact, but I don’t mention that part. “It’s my fault she left.”
“I don’t believe that, for a second. Why would you think it was your fault?”
Because my dad tells me it is all the time.
I shrug. “I just know.”
He looks off into the distance and takes another drink of his beer. Usually, when my father drinks, I’m tense and stay hidden in my room until the morning. I’m not scared of this man, even though I know I should be.
“Well, you’re wrong. You’re just a kid; if your mom’s gone, it’s because she chose to leave. Not because you did anything.”
All I can do is shake my head and look away. “Maybe, but that’s not what my dad says.”
“Your dad’s stupid,” he growls, and I jump, startled by the sound that comes from his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds.
“It’s okay.” My voice comes out squeaky.
Turning the conversation around, he asks, “What do you do for fun?” I cock my head to the side and stare at him. If there was anyone I could’ve pictured as prince charming, it would be him. I feel safe with him, protected.
“Usually, I just read or sit outside. That’s when I’m not at school. I’m usually pretty bored, though, especially when my dad is at work.”
“Does he work a lot?” Lucca asks.
I nod. “Yeah, but when he isn’t at work, he’s sleeping or drinking so…” I realize I’ve said too much and press my lips together to stop myself from saying anything more.
Lucca’s features darken, and he leans in, his eyes zeroing in on my face, making me feel like I’m being inspected. “If you need anything, butterfly, you can come to me. I will help you. Day or night.”
Maybe my life would be different if I had never talked to him, or maybe I would be worse off. I wipe at the stray tears that fall from my eyes and trail down my cheeks.
Why does he continue to do this?
I’m no longer his responsibility.
No longer his problem, and still, he protects me.
I have to prove to him I don’t need him anymore. I have to make him go away. There’s no other option.
4
Lucca
My heart slams against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape as I pull up to the cabin where Markus has been hiding out. I’m not sure what to expect inside. I can only hope that he doesn’t realize anything is off.
Fuck! Not in a million years did I think it would ever come to this. The Moretti family has been the only family I’ve known. I don’t want to cross them, and not only because I know I will die if they ever find out. No, my loyalties are genuine. I don’t want anything to happen to Julian and Elena. Just like I want nothing to happen to Markus or any of the guys, but I have no choice. I can’t let Claire down.
For the last few days, I’ve been feeding my mystery blackmailer information. So far, it’s petty stuff, but I know it’s not going to stay like that for long. He is simply testing me now. Seeing how far I will go and how far I will take it to protect Claire.
I’ve briefly played with the idea of asking Julian for help, but he already helped me once, and now that he has Elena, he will not risk any weakness. I have to deal with this myself. I have to take out this threat, and I need to do it fast. Let’s just hope Markus is going to help me with this.
I get out of the car and walk up to the cabin. I don’t even have to knock. As soon as my foot touches the first step leading up to the door, the door swings open.
“Hey,” I greet.
“Come in.” Markus nods and gestures for me to come in.
Stepping into the living room, my eyes land almost immediately on the blonde woman standing a few feet away.
“Lucca, this is Fallon. Fallon, this is Lucca,” Markus introduces us with a grunt.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Fallon replies meekly. She is clearly nervous, maybe even scared. Like the bastard I am, her fear excites me.