Page 45 of Shattered Diamonds

“Neither do I, Demetri. So, stop referring to me as a dog. And I’ll call my hair whatever color I want. If I want to dye my hair black, I will.” I stiffen when he takes the steps towards me and whips my seat around to face him. He clutches my throat in his hand and leans down, getting inches from my face.

“When a man like me gives you a nickname, it is a term of endearment. You are young and you have puppy dog love in your eyes when it comes to life, but even with seeing that with my own eyes, I was just recently made aware of how innocent you really are.” He continues to hold my throat prisoner so that my full attention is on him. “The nickname is more suited for you than I had originally thought.”

I’m spellbound, gazing into his eyes. There is a moment when I think he will kiss me, but he doesn’t. “I like the other nickname much better,” I breathlessly tell him.

“Well, then. I guess I will have to make you come more often so I can watch your eyes flutter and light up, now, won’t I?”

“What is this between us?” I ask as he hovers inches away from my face while still imprisoning my neck.

He pushes my chin up with his thumb as he rises to his full height, and states, “You belong to me. That is all you need to know, Haven.”

As we face off, a noise to my right catches my attention. I turn in that direction just as a shirtless guy walks into the kitchen. Thor, the beast, clops over to him, wagging his nub, or should I say, his whole hindquarters. The guy is built, not as built as Demetri but very defined with dirty blond hair. His shorts hang low on his hips, and I can’t help but notice the line of hair that travels beneath them. It’s only when I glance up at his face do I realize it’s Luca. The same guy who picked me up the first night for Demetri and my first date, and the same guy in the hallway from the night before who smiled at me as my body hung over Demetri’s shoulder.

Pressure on my chin breaks my attention and is pulled back to the man still hovering in front of me.

“Like what you see?”

“What?” I sputter, not realizing I was inspecting Luca so intrusively.

“Whose shirt are you wearing?”

“What?”

“It’s too big. Whose shirt is it?”

I look down. “Finn’s. Why?”

Before I know what is happening, the material is gripped and it’s ripped straight down the middle.

I flutter and gasp. Grabbing for each tattered side and holding the torn material to my chest. I quickly glance at Luca and then back to Demetri in horror. “What the fuck?”

“Finish your breakfast, Haven,” he calmly orders as he stands to his full height and walks towards the hallway that leads to his bedroom. “And throw that shit in the garbage. It’s no longer wearable.”

“You’re worried about me eating when you just ripped my shirt off my body? There is something seriously wrong with you! And stop telling me to eat! There is no way I can eat all this food,” I yell over my shoulder while still holding the material together.

“Eat what you can. You’re going to need your stamina.”

“Trust me, my cardio is on point,” I sarcastically retort to his retreating back. “I need a shirt!”

“Morning,” Luca chimes as he continues his confident stride to the refrigerator, pretending to ignore the scene, Thor follows him, but I see the smirk.

“Leaving in fifteen,” Demetri replies, still watching me from the corner of his eye before entering the hallway I just came down. “Eat,” he orders once again before disappearing around the corner.

I watch Luca from beneath my lashes, embarrassed that I sit here in a shredded rock band T-shirt. I shove a piece of bacon in my mouth while watching Luca rummage through the refrigerator. His body is heavily scarred. While Demetri and I were in the shower, I noticed he, too, has two round scars—bullet wounds, I can only assume—but Luca’s scars are extensive. I’m not naïve enough to not know that their chosen profession is dangerous, but Luca’s body is riddled with past misfortunes.

He’s pouring himself a glass of orange juice when I blurt, “Who did that to you?”

He glances up at me, hesitates only a second, throws the dog a piece of bacon from my food, and says, “Someone who didn’t know better.”

“Know better? Then what?”

“That their death would be next at the hand of the man that just left the room.”

“Oh,” is all I mutter, glancing over my shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s part of the job. Give him a piece of bacon.” He nods at Thor.

“Is that how Demetri got his scars?” I glance down at the beast.

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