Page 72 of Killing Emma

I kiss him back with a hunger and desperation I’ve never felt before as he rocks against me, filling me with him. Overwhelming emotions well up in my chest as I cling to him, my fingernails probably breaking his skin.

“Fuck, Emma, fuck,” he groans out as his body tenses, and he comes, his cock throbbing inside of me. I wrap my arms around him as he buries his head in the nape of my neck, and I begin to tremble beneath him as a hot tear rolls down my cheek.

Luca stays still as I shake in his arms, all the unspent emotions bubbling up. The years of fucking numbness, heartache, and grief explode from caverns deep in my soul. He squeezes me tighter as my tears mix with his sweat and my sniffles turn to sobs.

“Let it out, Little Red,” he rasps. “I have you.” He doesn’t ask why I’m crying or take offense that it happens right after sex, he just holds me. Maybe he thinks it’s his fault that I’m breaking down.

But it’s been years in the making, and the more I cry the better I feel about everything—Jared, Luca, my mother’s passing. All of it. It comes in waves, and with every passing, I feel better. As I begin to calm down, he rolls us, snuggling me into his chest and pulling up the covers.

I brush my fingers over the ink on his chest as we lay in silence, and as I take deep, ragged breaths, there’s one negative emotion that lingers in the pit of my stomach, unmoved by tears. Luca kisses the top of my head, and for the first time since coming here, I think I might actually understand why Luca snaps the way he does.

It’s the rage.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Luca

“You’re getting really good at this,” I laugh as Emma circles me in the backyard, the sun having slipped beneath the horizon. As promised, I’ve been teaching her self-defense, and while she’s no fucking ninja, she’s stronger than she was before, and it makes her laugh.

And that’s something I’m damn near sure I’m in love with.

“I’m going to take you down one of these days,” she giggles, her hair bouncing in the bun on top of her head. “Just you wait.”

“We’ll see, Little Red,” I taunt her as she lunges for me. This time, she makes contact with the nerve near my collarbone—and I see stars for a second. “Nice,” I mutter as I wrap my arms around her bare midriff. She’s lean and toned from hours of doing this every single day. I’ve only noticed because she’s noticed, really. And in all her noticing, I’ve realized I’ll take her however she comes.

She kisses my jaw, and then breaks away from me, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “What time do we leave tomorrow?”

My stomach knots up. “I don’t know yet. I still have to talk to Jude.”

She nods and then turns to grab her water bottle. I keep my eyes trained on her ass and legs, using it as a distraction. The voice of Victor in my head isn’t there when I’m with her anymore, but our glimpse of normalcy is almost over.

Tomorrow is day zero.

And nothing is going as planned. I don’t have Ivan’s location. Henry and Lydia still don’t know Emma is safe with me. And as much as it pains me, I have to take her to them tomorrow. And leave her in their protection until I can find Ivan. Otherwise, we’ll become sitting ducks when her face hits the news again.

And that’s something I still haven’t come to terms with.

Emma has been mine. My secret. My whole fucking world away from the world. Now, I have to risk what will happen when she steps back out into reality—and I can’t go with her. My face can’t be broadcasted on multiple news channels. I can’t be connected to her. At all. It’s too big of a risk.

“What’s wrong?” Emma cuts into my thoughts, peering back at me. “You look stressed. Is it Ivan?” She knows so much about everything; she could expose us all.

“I still haven’t heard anything,” I maintain telling her the truth, even though sometimes I question if she does the same for me. Something shifted in her the night of the chamber, and it hasn’t been the same ever since. At first I thought she had finally broken down and let it all out—like Jude had mentioned.

But with how hard she trains and throws punches, I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t just birthing pains of something much, much more terrifying.

“Will we still go?”

“Yeah, we will, and once you’re with my friends, you can call your divorce attorney.” I have a phone for her waiting with Jude. She’s going to be connected back to the world in less than twenty-four hours—and I hope whatever is simmering inside of her is under enough control to be contained.

“And you’ll be there?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her, which only makes me more nervous. “I can’t make that promise.” She bites down on her lip, and I thumb away a drop of sweat from her temple. “But I’ll be back for you. No matter what.”

“Is that at least a promise?”

“Of course, it is.” But I can’t look her in the eye. I have to face someone that has twenty years of experience on me—and I’ve failed three times in killing someone. I’m not sure if the third really counts, but for the sake of going up against Ivan, it does. He’s been the elusive ghost in my dreams since the life dissipated from Manny’s eyes, and Emma’s been my greatest distraction.

“It’ll be okay,” Emma reassures me, grabbing my hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

---