Luca (Hunting Her) - Eden Summers Page 0,82

if my contact at the hospital can pull a few strings.

I don’t drag my ass from the bedroom until after sundown when my stomach can’t take the lack of food any longer.

Penny’s the first to see me walk into the living area. She pushes up from the sofa, relief brightening her expression as she walks up to me, her hand reaching for mine. “Any luck?”

There’s a wealth of hope in her eyes. So much fucking dependence, too.

I’ve let her down. All I have is confirmation of Robert’s existence from a kid she’d resent me for involving. “I’m still working on it. Has anyone heard news on Benji? I thought he’d be back by now.”

“No.” She sinks into my chest, her face nuzzling my neck as if she was born to mold against me. “Nobody has told me anything.”

At least Tobias didn’t spill his guts. That’s a bonus.

“Luca,” she whispers against my throat, “What happens if I recognize him?”

I fight against the need to tense. “Recognize him from where?”

“Greece. Or from here.”

Icy dread slithers through me. She means from being a rapist. From being part of the sex-trafficking operation.

“What if he was one of the men who helped lure me away?” she asks.

My brain regains its agonizing throb. The thump, thump, thump of my pulse is incessant against my temples. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

“Not all day.” She pulls back to meet my gaze. “It’s just that Layla spoke highly of him. As a father and a husband. But I can’t stop questioning him. I keep thinking—what if? And then it gets worse because I start thinking I’m going to lose you, too.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I love my brother, Pen. I’d do anything for him. But if he’s capable of doing the things you’re talking about then he’s not the brother I know. He’s not my blood at all.”

Hollowness gnaws at me. Not because I’m lying. Because it’s the God’s honest truth.

I’d disown him for that betrayal.

Fucking kill him.

The other guys return to the house for dinner soon after. The mass of people scatter around the living room, some at the dining table, the kids on stools at the kitchen counter, while a young female nanny keeps watch. Hunt and Sarah are on the sofa. Penny remains by my side while Decker glares at me from his standing position in front of the sink.

That fucker wants to hit me again. Or worse. Definitely worse.

“Has anyone heard from Benji?” I shove a wedge of pizza in my mouth and pretend I’m not fully invested in the answer.

“Not today.” Layla sips from a wine glass. “He probably didn’t charge his cell again.”

“He’s got sketchy reception,” Torian offers around a mouth full of food. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

The two hours that pass prove him wrong.

I help clean up after dinner and watch the nanny wrangle the kids to bathe, then later, put them to bed. The whole time my patience keeps levelling up. I’m left to dig through surveillance recordings on the sofa while Hunt and Decker head out to talk to more people, and Torian retires to his office. Penny doesn’t leave my side, the twitch of her fingers becoming more fidgety as she pretends to watch whatever movie plays on the big-screen TV.

“Why don’t you have a shower and get some rest?” I take a break from staring at the computer screen and run my hand through her hair. “I’ll wake you when he gets here.”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.”

She still thinks a monster is going to walk through the door in the form of my brother. The more time that passes makes me believe it, too.

One by one, Sarah, Layla, and Keira retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone in the silent house.

I keep failing to get in contact with Benji and start praying he was in a minor car accident, for his sake, because unless he’s physically incapable of dialing my number, I’ll break his face for not returning my calls.

It’s past eleven when Torian walks back into the living room, his cell in his hand, his hair mussed as if he’s dragged his hands through it a million times. “He’s here.” He jerks his chin toward the front of the house. “I just let him through the gate.”

Penny straightens from her leaned position against my shoulder, her eyes blinking away exhaustion.

“About fucking time.” I close my Mac and place it beside me on the sofa. “Where was he

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