Page 62 of Lukas

Everythingwas.

Lukas was talking to someone, fury clear in his clipped tone, but he wasn’t talking to her. Wasn’t touching her any more. Wasn’t hers any more.

“No, please.” She couldn’t make the hoarse words any louder than a whisper. “Don’t stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She had to make him understand. The physical pain was nothing compared to the black ice that was starting to encompass her from the inside out.

She heard a vile curse from Lukas and forced herself to stop talking. He didn’t want to hear anything from her. The frozen darkness seemed to swallow her.

She didn’t open her eyes even when a moment later she felt a soft brush of lips on her cheek, and heard Margo’s soft voice in her ear while someone else covered her body with a blanket. “No more now, pet. You still have a lot of questions to answer, but that can wait.”

She wanted to argue but couldn’t. The ice was surrounding her now, opaque and thick. But that was good. At least if she was surrounded by ice it kept everything at a distance—blurred and hazy.

She let it enfold her, keep her safe, frozen, as someone carried her to a quiet couch and set her down gently. The arms were strong, the grip tender. She wanted to open her eyes and see if it was Lukas, but she didn’t dare. It wouldn’t be him, and confirmation would just be that much more painful. She didn’t open her eyes when a bottle of water rested gently against her lips, although she did drink. When some sort of chocolate was then placed against her mouth, she took a few bites and dutifully chewed. When a hand eased her head down against the armrest and began stroking her hair, she didn’t resist.

But she still didn’t open her eyes. Maybe she’d never would again.

Fronzen inside the ice, she had no idea how long she lay there. Sounds were muffled, and she couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of the voices around her. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel—just wanted to freeze.

At some point, the hand had stopped stroking her hair, but she didn’t know when. Time didn’t seem to be passing linearly. How long had she been here? Moments? Hours? Forever?

And the ice was starting to crack. The pain was beginning to leak through. Reina finally gathered all her strength and opened her eyes.

She blinked even against the dim light of the club. She was alone on the couch, which was no more than she’d expected. She had no friends here. She forced herself to sit up, eating more of the chocolate that had been on the table next to the couch. Drinking the rest of the water.

She felt stronger, or at least more in control of her body, but that awareness came at the price of further cracking the ice. The pain waited as a tidal wave behind it. Once it gave way she’d drown.

She couldn’t do that here. If she saw Lukas again now—faced the flinty stare that had replaced the tenderness that once lit his eyes for her—she’d never keep it together. She just wanted to get out this room. Out of this club. Out of this city.

There was nobody around her in this quiet corner past the bar. She hadn’t really expected there to be. But at least she was near the room where Victor and Margo had removed her clothes and the back stairwell. Walking on shaky legs into that room with the blanket wrapped securely around her, she pulled on her black jeans and tank, wincing as the fabric rubbed tender skin.

She slipped on her sandals and then stepped out of the room, careful to keep herself in the shadows. She made her way towards the stairwell, praying Lukas hadn’t changed the door code from the last time she’d hacked it, one measured step at a time. It wasn’t that she was really hurt, at least not physically, but emotionally she was afraid she might shatter all over the floor.

She let out a tiny sob of relief when the door opened upon her input of the code. She climbed back up to Triple Threat, keeping her head down, and walked through the club and out the door. She was so focused on leaving the building that she was out before she remembered that she didn’t have a car here. She’d snuck out of her apartment and taken a cab a few blocks over so she could get away from the security team watching her place.

Looking back and forth now, there were no cabs to be found.

And then, like she was in some goddamn Greek tragedy, thunder cracked overhead, the skies opened up, and it began to pour.

Reina just looked up at the sky and shook her head. Of course, it would rain. She had no car, there were no cabs in sight, and she was a moment and a half from an emotional breakdown.

She stood for long moments on the sidewalk with her eyes closed, shivering as the rain poured over her, until a car pulled up beside her.

“Lady, you okay? You want a ride or something?”

She looked at the man. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she didn’t know him well enough to get in the car. “No thanks.”

The car drove away, and she started walking down the sidewalk, hoping as she got closer to the Quarter she’d find a cab. She just wanted to go home. She’d gone a block and a half when the car pulled up again.

“Let me give you a ride, lady.”

Why was this guy following her? “No, I don’t want a ride. I—” She turned back to go towards the club, but someone was standing directly behind her. She felt the sharp blade of a knife press into her midsection, not quite piercing her skin.

“You sure this is her, Mick? Rinaldi’s woman?”

“Yeah,” the driver responded. “They were definitely making out at that Chinese restaurant. Get her in the car.”

She knew she couldn’t get in there with them. She opened her mouth to scream, but the guy backhanded her. The world spun, and she fell to the ground.

“Fuck, Simon, be careful. We need her alive to get Rinaldi.”

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