Page 107 of Dare To Love Me

“Love you too.”

After a deep breath I climbed out of the car. Arianna’s driver followed us so he could take her back to the club. I watched her car disappear down the driveway, my heart sinking lower as the taillights got smaller. Steven was now standing at the front door waiting for me. I walked up the steps with my eyes to the ground, feet feeling as heavy as cinderblocks. Every click echoed in the depths of my mind, like the soundtrack to a horror movie, where no one knows if the character is going to live or die. I felt utterly defeated in every way.

When I reached the door I looked up and smiled at Steven out of habit. My cheek didn’t agree with the gesture and I winced before I could fully commit to it. Steven stared at the angry red skin, pinching his mouth sideways in a disapproving glower. I ducked my head and walked into the house.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs before he stopped me.

“Luca did that?” Steven had been my regular guard for a while and even though we never talked about personal things we formed a sort of friendship of mutual kindness. He was big and gruff but somehow settling with his quiet domineer and inquisitive eyes that didn’t miss much.

My steps came to a standstill but I didn’t turn. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

I could hear him moving closer. “It was…” A mistake. An accident. I didn’t know what to say. None of your business, just seemed cold. Then it hit me. I had been so caught up in my misery I’d forgotten there was another person in the car, hearing me cry hysterically in the back seat.

“Didn’t you hear?” He must think I’m so weak.

“Some.”Then his shadow moved around the front of me, not invading my space but requesting my attention. I turned my head and ducked away.

Walking out of the club I’d endured dozens of stares, all with my head held high, taking them head on. The humiliation had been powerful enough to make me nauseous. I didn’t want to feel it again.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

I peered up at Steven wanting the floor to swallow me whole. The bright lights made my eyes blink in pain, causing my head to pound harder.

His hands went to his hips and he got that same disapproving look. “You are a nice girl. He shouldn’t have hit you. This life can be hard on women. I’m sorry you had to endure that, but you stayed strong, even when everyone saw you. It takes guts to do that, especially for someone not born into all this.” He huffed out a breath. “I have no doubt you can survive this life. You just have to stay strong. And don’t take any shit.”

His words were comforting. I guess it was something I needed to hear, from someone other than myself. In the car I’d prayed for strength to withstand the constant storms that seemed to rain down on me. Wondering if they would ever end.

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile even though it hurt like hell. He accepted it with a nod and headed to the kitchen.

When I reached the top of the stairs there was a moment hesitation where I questioned if I should sleep in my old room. Pushing the idea away I made my way down the hall to the master bedroom. I will not hide.

Heading straight for the bathroom I braced myself before looking in the mirror. My eyes glossed over at the sight of my reflection. Black eyeliner and mascara were smudged and smeared halfway down my face, eyes bloodshot from crying. Then there was the punishing red/purple mark covering one cheek and a split lip at the corner of my mouth. I looked like hell and felt even worse.

Stripping off my clothes I stepped into a hot shower. No more tears surfaced but I welcomed the sound of the water, letting it drowned out the world. Crawling into myself had never felt so right. I started to fall, letting the dark close over the walls and lights, letting my mind blank until soon I would be nothing inside my own head.

No. I will not hide.Taking a deep breath I shoved down the urge to let the murky waters suck me down. I wasn’t a little girl any longer. I could do this.

After running the shower cold, I dressed in an oversized shirt and crawled into bed. Eyes wide open, I laid in the dark wondering how long it would be until Luca came home. If he comes home.

What should I say? What will he say? How were we going to glue the shattered pieces back together? What we shared was delicate enough, cracking it was easy on any given day. Tonight, we subjected it to a very large hammer, crushing it to bits. I wasn’t sure if any amount of glue could put us back together.

I didn’t expect Luca home for hours— if at all— so when the bedroom door opened only twenty minutes after climbing in bed I shot up in surprise.

Suddenly my chest strung tight with nerves. His silhouette hung in the doorway for several long beats, watching me. I couldn’t see him in the dark so getting any sort of read on his mood was impossible. Words formed on my tongue as my mouth opened and shut but nothing came out.

His heavy breathing filtered through the room, mixing with the moonlight. Before I could get my voice to work he shook his head and headed to the bathroom without a single word.

My heart sank into my stomach. He doesn’t want to see me. Shards of glass broke away from my splintered heart. Tears tried and failed to make an appearance. Hope slithered from me like a snake shedding its skin, tempting me to give up and curl into the covers.

No hiding. I’m a fighter.No way was I going to give up without trying. I had to see him. Slowly I slipped out of bed and made my way to the bathroom door.

When I reached the door I pressed my ear to the cool wood, hearing grunts and shallow curses. Reaching for the knob I stilled when the cold metal touched my palm. My pulse pounded in my fingertips. Uncertainty drove fear deep into the pit of my stomach. Swallowing back the temptation to walk away I lightly knocked on the door. “Luca?”

“Don’t come in here, Becka.” His voice sounded strained, desperate. “Stay out.”

There was no aggression in his tone, only pain. Something was wrong, I could feel it as much as I could hear it. Curiosity chased away the fear. He sounded almost protective, a soft delivered warning that something horrible was waiting. Why would he not want me to come in unless he is still angry? But he didn’t sound angry. Before I could talk myself out of it, I slowly turned the handle and opened the door.

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