Page 68 of Worship
Drew’s hand lands gently on mine.
“No, honey. Luca said that if he sent her back, Gio would ‘know’—whatever that means. So, she has to stay put.”
I stare at her confused, trying to make sense of what she’s saying.
“Luca’s helping her because Gio is a monster. A real psychopath with women. But one thing has nothing to do with the other. I know what I saw.”
Why do I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack?
“Do you? You saw her with him in a room and his pants undone. You didn’t see him getting a blowjob. You heard her beg and him threaten shit, but you didn’t hear him ask for it.”
“So, his dick needed to be down her throat? Jesus, whose side are you on?” I can’t believe her.
She looks at me just as frustrated with me as I am with her.
“Yours. Which is why I’m saying you should let him explain before you decide he’s lying. What I know, G, is that you don’t like to feel as if someone has any power over you, but babe, you love him. And that gives him all the power in the world. Hear him out. It can’t get much worse than standing in a bathroom, afraid of leaving…”
She kisses my cheek and looks back at me for a moment before opening the door, leaving me alone. I stand there looking in the mirror, hoping for some kind of sign. Anything would do.
How do I trust him? Fuck, how do I trust myself?
Part of why I’m digging my heels in is because I instantly wanted to listen, wanted to believe and to trust no matter what I saw, and that made me feel weak and stupid. I can’t trust myself. But if I walked away and he was telling the truth, he’ll never forgive me. I know Luca; he won’t just hold a grudge, he’ll hold me accountable.
I take a steadying breath and walk back out of the bathroom to take my place next to Michael. Luca’s back is to me, and I notice how he and Shelby stand next to each other, not touching. Like strangers.
It’s as if he senses me the moment I’m within reach of him, because he looks over his shoulder as if he were expecting me. Our eyes meet, and his brow furrows when Michael calls my name, waving me over to where he and Blair have traveled.
Luca reaches out, taking my wrist brazenly, right in front of Shelby, but blocking Michael’s view.
“I can’t watch you with him. It’s torture.”
His voice is hushed as his fingers trace the lines in my palm.
I want to take his hand and bring it to my lips. Instead, I take my free hand and bring his chin up from where he’s watching himself draw on my palm.
I search the hazel eyes looking into my damn soul for some sort of belief that he isn’t completely mad, or that somehow in this moment, I can believe Drew, love, or my gut. But he just looks like the man I know, and I’m reminded of the hurt all over again.
“Well, I guess Michael makes us even,” I answer, looking over at Shelby, who at least has the decency to pretend not to be listening.
I don’t even care that she’s standing there. Truth is, I don’t think she’s my competition. I think Luca’s need for payback is.
He drops my wrist back to my side, his eyes becoming cold, the wall rebuilding itself. He leans in to my ear.
“If you let that asshole touch you, I’m going to make him swallow his tongue.”
Luca’s breath so close to my skin does horrible, delicious things to my pussy.Fuck, I miss him.The thought instantly makes me want to lash out.
“Before or after I let him lick me?”
I don’t know why I say it, why I push, but I do. And the worst part is I’m satisfied with the rage that plays over his face. I like that he’s angry, possessive, and envious. My misery likes his company. If he wants to play this game of lies and deceit, I’ll best him.
I push past Luca, anger reverberating off him, and join Blair and Michael. I can feel Luca’s eyes on me, watching to see if I listen and obey. Michael looks down and questions, “Everything okay? I saw you talking to Luca—seemed pretty intense.”
“Oh? No, just godparent stuff.”
The lies unfurl from my tongue with ease. Michael puts his arm around my shoulder as he chats, and I hate it. I feel like a child when he does this, and I roll my eyes internally.
I chance a look at Luca and see him lean in to say something to Shelby. She nods, not responding. I use the moment to take her in. She’s beautiful but looks nothing like Ella. Shelby is blonde and petite with dark brown eyes. Eyes that seem lost. She doesn’t look like a woman trying to do a victory lap; she seems frayed, like she’s trying to maintain.
