Page 84 of Forgive Me Father
“You looked at my phone?” I ask, dread tightening in my chest, the image I sent Roman flashing in my mind.
“Only what was on the screen,” Luca mutters, avoiding my eyes. “I even answered once. The line went dead silent when he heard my voice.”
“What... what did he say?” I ask, the pit in my stomach growing deeper.
“He said your name. Then, when he heard my voice, he went quiet,” Luca snaps, his jaw clenched tight with anger. “Is Father Briar manipulating you, Eden? Getting you to do things—”
I can’t let him finish that sentence. Without thinking, I move over the center armrest, crawling into his lap, desperate to shut him up. My hands grasp his cheeks, and the skirt of my costume hikes up, leaving nothing but fishnets and my lace panties between us.
“This is what I want,” I whisper urgently, my heart racing. “My dad asked Roman to keep a close eye on me. When he heard your voice, I’m sure he assumed I was doing something I shouldn’t be,” I lie, my stomach twisting as I feel Luca harden beneath me.
“So now, he’s probably freaking out. He’ll tell my dad you answered, and I’ll deal with it later,” I continue, my voice soft but firm. “So stop overthinking, and at least make the punishment I’ll get when I get home worth it.”
I press my lips to his, silencing him with a kiss that lingers longer than it should. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer, and his tongue slips into my mouth, tasting like toothpaste and vodka. His grip tightens, bruising my skin as he kisses me until I can’t breathe.
“Luca, that hurts,” I mumble against his lips, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth trails down to my chest, and he clamps down on my breast with his teeth, muffling my scream with his hand.
“I thought you liked it rough, Eden.” He growls, panic rising in my chest.
He’s really fucking drunk.
Yanking me back toward him, he kisses me again, but I can’t breathe. My side and breast throb, and I try to pull away.
Someone bangs on his truck, forcing him to stop, his too-tight grip finally ebbing from my sides.
“Get it, sister!”
He wipes the smudged lipstick off my face. “Fucking sexy as hell,” He mutters, nudging me off his lap. “But not convincing enough.”
I land back in the passenger seat, staring at him in disbelief as he slams the door shut and heads toward Zoey and Aiden.
Shaking, I try to process what just happened. My hands fumble for my phone as it lights up again. This time, I answer quickly, my voice trembling.
“Luca, you little fu—”
“Roman?” I whisper, fighting back sobs. “Are you home?”
“Eden?” Roman’s voice cuts through, sharp and concerned. “What’s going on?”
Words are lost to me as I try to suck in air but fail miserably.
“Is it Luca? What did he do?” Roman’s voice is gentle, but edged with tension.
“I tried to convince him like you said,” I sob, my words tumbling out. “And he grabbed me, wrapped his hand around my throat—”
“Where are you?” Roman’s voice tightens, the sound of music growing louder in the background.
“Some fucking house party,” I sniffle, glancing at Saint Michael’s behind my shoulder. “I could walk to you and be there sooner—”
“No!” He exclaims, panic clear in his tone. “Stay where you are. Are you in a car?”
“Luca’s,” I sob. “But I don’t know when he’ll—”
“Lock the door, Angel. I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done handling some things,” He says, his voice cryptic and urgent.
“Roman, don’t make a scene with Luca—”
“I’ll handle him another time. Right now, my only focus is getting you safe,” He says firmly. “Do you trust me, Eden?”
