to strengthen beneath me. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t even breathe properly as I fumble my way to the hall entry and find Luther on the floor, leaning on his elbows, his face awash with smug satisfaction as his son sways on his feet, barely remaining upright.
Their expressions paint a horrid picture—Luther’s victorious and egotistical, Cole’s devastated and confused.
Guilt has me searching for the man who offered kindness. The one I find shielded behind the back of a sofa, his body lifeless, one cheek covered in blood.
A cry builds in my throat, demanding to be heard. I let the pressure assault me. Punish.
He was my only chance at freedom and I let him slip through my fingers. He was my savior and I treated him like a predator.
“Don’t go near him.” Cole fumbles over his words. “Get the fuck away.”
I ignore him in my need to confirm Luca’s death, not only to appease my tormentor, but for my own insight. I have to feel the void where there should be a heartbeat, to let the lack of life slice another scar into my tormented soul.
“Luther, I’m sorry.” I inch into the room. “I’m so sorry. I tried to stab him with the sedative but he stopped me. He was too quick.” The explanation fumbles from my lips. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe I could—”
“Just check him.” Luther crawls to his feet.
I do as I’m told, starting toward Luca’s prone body, following the crimson trail staining the ivory tiles. I scour every inch of him hoping for movement, my gaze trekking from the heavy boots, along his thighs, across his stomach, to his neck, chin, and mouth. My gaze finally comes to rest on the hazel eyes slowly blinking back at me.
He raises a shaky hand to his lips, requesting my silence.
I should tell Luther. I need to inform my owner of the threat, yet the words don’t form. I’m incapable of announcing this man’s vulnerability. Not after he tried to save me. Yet I have to say something.
“There’s blood.” My voice trembles. “It’s coming from his head.”
Luca crooks a finger, beckoning me forward.
My heart drops.
I don’t want to go to him, yet I’m drawn. Pulled. My feet creep closer of their own accord, then I’m crouching, succumbing to his silent command.
“Penny,” Luther growls. “What are you doing?”
“His pulse… I-I’m checking his pulse.”
What I’m really doing is staring into the eyes of the man who has fractured me. The one who fills me with relief because he’s still alive. But there’s no justification for my celebration, not when I’m responsible for his injuries, and his upcoming death.
“I’m sorry.” I break our visual connection in an attempt to sever my guilt and focus on the lengthy gash along the side of his head, the oozing blood matting his hair. I’m about to reach out, to sweep the strands away to inspect his wound when Cole curses, the violent outburst from the other side of my hiding place enough to make me retreat.
“Get his weapon,” Luther demands of me. “Then unlock the door and hand it to Chris.”
“Don’t do it,” Cole snarls. “Don’t fucking do it, Penny.”
My heart sinks as I glance to my left and find Luca’s gun on the tile a few feet away.
There’s no choice. With Luther armed and Chris waiting outside, evil has already prevailed.
Gentle fingers brush my wrist, stealing my attention. My focus. I meet Luca’s gaze. I see the struggle to fight etched in his features—the tight lips, the drawn brows.
“Don’t,” he mouths, begging me with his eyes. “Don’t do it.”
For once, I want to please him. A criminal. A man. I’d give anything to grant his wish. Instead, I paste on a regretful smile, hoping he understands the apology that comes with it.
I should’ve told him what was happening when we were alone in the bedroom. I should’ve let down my guard and believed his promises. Then this situation might have ended differently.
But the bad guys always win.
“She does what she’s told,” Luther seethes. “Otherwise she knows the consequences.”
I straighten, hearing the threat loud and clear.
“What’s to stop her shooting you?” Cole asks.
“She could try. But she’d be dead before she had time to aim. And then I’d kill all her friends just to spite her.”
That’s why I have no choice. That’s why I have to take Luca’s gun.
I reach for the weapon a few feet away, my fingers tingling as my palm slides over the blood-slicked exterior. It’s a strange