Page 142 of Lethal Legacy

One moment I’m sitting on the couch, the tight knot of tension I’ve lived with for years a hard ball in my belly, trying to work out how best to answer Abby. The next moment, I’m crying. Red-faced, can’t catch my breath, ugly crying. The kind of tear storm I haven’t had since I was a small child.

I cover my face, unable to look at Abby. I will myself to stop, but I can’t. The tears come thick and fast, shaking my whole body.

“Oh, baby.” She scoots up the sofa and wraps her arms around me, rocking me soothingly. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I sob. “Mine.”

“No,” Abby says, holding me. “It isn’t your fault at all. Whatever this is, it isn’t your fault.”

I can’t answer her. All I can do is cry.

“Let them come,” she murmurs. “Just let it all out.”

I don’t know how long I stay like that, Abby saying soothing things, my tears completely soaking her shoulder. Finally the storm begins to subside. “It’s going to be okay, Luce,” she says, still holding me.

It’s her use of my name that finally turns the tears off.

“Lucia isn’t my name.” I pull away from her, meeting her eyes briefly. Abby just hands me a tissue. I blow my nose, not looking at her.

“Well, that’s not exactly news.” She gives me a wry smile.

“I know you suspected. It’s not because I don’t trust you that I haven’t told you. It’s just not safe.” I shake my head. “Not for anyone. I guess for a while, I thought... I was. Safe. With Roman.” I take a deep, shuddering breath that hurts my throat. “I think I got used to that feeling. But now...” My voice trails off.

“Now what, Luce?” Abby frowns at me. “By the way Roman was all over you at the farm, I’d say you were better than justsafe.”

“He hasn’t touched me since we left the finca,” I whisper. “He barely looks at me, Abby. I think he regrets ever getting involved with me at all. And I have no idea why, or what I did.” My voice breaks on the words.

“Oh, darling.” She pulls me fiercely close as the tears come again, this time slowly, just steady weeping that won’t quit.

“It was what you said about being scared.” I breathe deeply, trying to still the sobs catching in my throat. “I’ve been scared for so fucking long, Abby. And I thought I wasn’t anymore. That I didn’t have to be.” I shake my head, the tears slipping silently down my face. “Now I just can’t face it,” I say brokenly. “I can’t face running again. Being scared all the time.”

“Then don’t,” she says, rubbing my back. “I can help you, Luce. You don’t have to run.”

“You don’t understand.” I pull back, wiping my eyes tiredly and shaking my head. “This isn’t something you can help with. I appreciate you offering, more than I can say. But I mean it. There’s no way I can involve you in this.” I grip her hand, suddenly afraid. “And you can’t tell Dimitry. About any of it. Promise me, Abby.”

“Of course I won’t tell him.” She is frowning worriedly at me. “But I don’t like this, Luce. Does Roman actually know the truth? About... whatever it is that you can’t tell me?”

“No.” I shake my head, sniffing back the tears. “Well, some of it he does. But not my real name. Not who I am. Not because I don’t trust him. I do, Abby. I trust him more than anyone else I’ve ever met. But there are other people at risk. People I love. And their secrets aren’t mine to tell, no matter how much I might want to.”

She hands me the wineglass, and I take a deep gulp, then another. Right now, the thought of being lost in an alcoholic mist is incredibly appealing.

“For the record,” Abby says thoughtfully, “I think you’re wrong about Roman. I know assholes, Luce. And much and all as I think CEO Man is as grim as fucking winter, I don’t think even he could fake the way I saw him looking at you. Which means that what you really need to do is talk to him.”

“Ha.” I swallow more wine. “He’d have to actually be around for me to do that.”

“Well, then.” She gets a calculating look on her face. “Maybe we just have to make him be around.”

“No games, Abby.” Even the thought of it makes me feel tired. “Whatever Roman’s problem with me is, he isn’t a man who takes kindly to being played.”

I shake my head tiredly. I feel exhausted. Wrung out, completely emotionally drained.

“Let’s just hang out here and drink wine.” I reach for the bottle and top up my glass. “To be honest, all I really want to do tonight is get toasted enough to forget about the whole damn thing. Just for one night, I don’t even want to think about Roman Stevanovsky. I just want to be Luce and Abs.”

“Okay.” Abby nods, giving me an understanding smile. “Then let’s find that junky Spanish radio station you love, open another bottle, and do really bad dance moves in my kitchen.”

We clink glasses, and I give her a watery smile. “That sounds amazing.”

“Oh my goodness,” I gasp, straightening up and rubbing my burning thighs. “Forget the gym. I should just drink and dance like this more often.”

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