Page 67 of Killing Emma

Luca lifts my head from the concrete and then slams it back down. I suddenly find my voice, and I scream. But the music is so loud. My head hurts so bad.

“Everyone just wants to fucking torture me. Chester, you, Emma. She doesn’t fucking want me.” His voice slurs—or maybe it’s my consciousness failing.

“No,” my voice comes out so fucking small. I’m not even sure I even actually say the words.

His hands wrap around my throat. I reach for his hands, weakly tugging on them. He leans over me, his weight bearing down on my chest. I let go of his fingers and go for his face. He winces when my fingers brush his jaw.

“You’re not her,” he rasps as he smacks my hand away. “You’re not her.”

“Please don’t,” I choke out, the scene in the shower playing out all over again. “Please.”

“It’s in my head. It’s just in my head.” His grip tightens, but I feel his hands trembling.

“It’s not,” I gasp for air, finding my full voice finally. “Luca, please stop.”

He goes completely frozen—though his grip loosens entirely. “Who put you up to this? Ivan?”

“No, it’s me,” I start to panic again as his grip tightens, my head throbbing to the point of blacking out again. “It’s me. I-I-I tracked you here. I—Jude brought me.”

“What?!” His voice shakes the walls. “Turn on the fucking lights.”

I tremble violently beneath him. He shifts his weight off me, his hands raking over my arms.

“No lights. Only one comes out alive,” Chester bursts into laughter over the speakers. “I’ll only let you break one rule, Luca.”

He lifts me up to a sitting position, and the change of position nearly sends me passing out. I reach for him, desperate for the strange sense of safety he gives me. He doesn’t push me away this time, though he does stiffen. My lips collide with his neck, desperate to show him who I am as I taste him.

“Fuck,” his hands run over my figure, but I’m still not sure if he knows it’s me. He tilts my head back, and his mouth collides with mine.

“Why are you here? Why are you here?” His voice strains with anger as he breaks the kiss, cupping my face with his hands. “I would’ve fucking killed you, Em—” He stops in the middle of saying my name, and the doors burst open, flooding the room with light.

Chapter Thirty

Luca

“We have to go,” Jude shouts. “Now.”

My head is still spinning as I scoop Emma up in my arms. I almost killed her. I almost fucking killed her—and not because I wanted to. How did she end up here? How did she get in this fucking room?

The alcohol buzzes my head. I can’t fucking drive like this. I can’t look at her now that we’re in the light either. I hurt her. Yeah, she stabbed me.

Because I was about to snap her neck.

“A couple of Ivan’s guys are here,” Jude says in a low voice, gesturing for me to hurry. But I’m fucking limping. His eyes widen. “Whoa.”

Emma clings to my shirt and I pass her to Jude as I step out into the lobby, where Chester is sitting with a smirk on his face.

“I guess you did know her,” he cackles to me. “She wanted in there so bad, I couldn’t turn her down—and she got real jealous when I said it was a big-titted—”

He doesn’t get to finish as I put the blade right through his chest. He gasps and gurgles as Jude gets Emma out through the back exit. “I thought you wanted to get over her…” Chester croaks, grabbing at the wound and knife.

I rip it out and make a second stab—right into his heart. “Fuck you, Chester. You should know better than to toy with me.”

The light leaves his eyes, and I let him drop to the floor. He was always slimy anyway. I drop the knife on his body, now slumped on the floor, and head for the back exit. My mind replays the way I hurt Emma tonight, but I’m still livid Jude brought her here.

I make it to the parking lot as Jude is helping Emma into the passenger seat. She has a partial mask on, and there’s blood smeared across her. My blood. I dig into my pocket and pull out my motorcycle keys.

Jude turns to me. “I’ll take the bike. You take her. They’re going to be on us soon, and they don’t know my truck.”

---