I half expected Luc to be sitting in my room when I emerged from my shower, but he wasn’t, and I hated that I was both relieved and disappointed by that fact. After changing into pajama pants and a cotton tank—my new depression-induced uniform—I slid onto the window seat, stared out at the view that no longer seemed beautiful but was now stifling, and tried to plan.
Luc had brought me hiking boots that hadn’t been in my closet. That meant he’d gotten them from somewhere. There was a chance he’d snagged them from the kitten, but my money was on a delivery of some kind. I hadn’t once heard a boat or helicopter since I’d been on the island, but he had to receive supplies. He must have things delivered at night when he knew I was sleeping. I’d have to try sleeping during the day so I could stay awake at night and wait for my chance to flee.
A knock sounded at my door, and I instantly flinched. Glancing to my right, I stared toward the sound. My first instinct was to stay quiet, but I knew if I did Luc would just barge in, so I steeled my nerves and muttered, “Go away.”
The door pushed open regardless, but to my relief and displeasure, it wasn’t Luc who moved into my room. It was the kitten.
Sela carried a tray of food. A smile pulled at the corners of her perfect mouth as she lifted the tray and said, “I heard you come back a while ago. Figured you might be hungry.”
Disinterested in her and what she offered, I went back to staring out the window. “I’m not.”
She crossed the room and set the tray on the low table near the sitting area, just as she did every day even though she knew I probably wouldn’t touch what she brought me. “It’s just a sandwich and a bag of chips. You can have them when you get hungry.”
I didn’t answer, and she didn’t take the hint and leave as I wanted her to. Exasperated, I snapped, “What?”
“I was just wondering… Luc hasn’t come back yet. I thought you two were together. You don’t know where he went, do you?”
Of course she was worried about Luc. My irritation with the kitten blew sky-high. Turning back for the window, I worked to keep my voice even when I said, “I don’t know where he is, nor do I care.”
Fabric rustled, and relief spread through me knowing she was leaving, but the door didn’t click closed as I expected, and when I turned, I found her standing with one hand on the door handle, her perfect lips in a tight line and a furrow between her brows.
Just leave already! I wanted to scream.
“I promised Luc I wouldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’m done tiptoeing around you. I don’t have a clue what’s going on between the two of you, but ever since you got here, Luc has been off.”
It took every bit of strength I had to bite my tongue as I looked back to the window. She was the last person I needed a lecture from. Especially about Luc.
“This island used to be a place Luc could chill out and relax,” she went on, not taking the hint I didn’t give a rip about her opinion. “But now he’s not sleeping, he’s agitated and stressed, and I’m pretty sure the only reason he’s still eating is because I’m forcing him to.”
Disgust and a rage I could only just contain built inside me. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, not wanting to give in to the fury. Not wanting her to see she was getting to me. But if I had to sit here much longer and listen to all the ways she knew Luc wasn’t sleeping or all the ways she was babying him to eat, I was going to lose what was left of my frazzled sanity.
“I get that you’re angry with him,” she went on, still not taking the signal I was sending loud and clear for her to shut the hell up, “but do you have any idea what he’s done for you? He betrayed his House for you. He put himself in their crosshairs to protect you.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. My eyes shot open, and I whipped my head in her direction. “I don’t need to hear any of this from you.”
“Well, you sure as hell need to hear it from someone, because you’re clearly not getting it on your own.” Her once-gentle eyes hardened. “I know you recognized my tattoo. I know what you think of me, but I really don’t care about your opinion. That part of my life is over, and I won’t allow you to look down on me the way all those wives and daughters did years ago. They did that to me. I didn’t ask for it or—”
“I don’t care what they did to you.” I was on the verge of slamming my hands over my ears to block her out. “I don’t want to hear a word about your relationship with Luc!”
Her mouth snapped closed. Silence filled the room. Then very quietly, she said, “Is that what’s bothering you? That you think Luc and I are—”
“I don’t want to hear about it,” I snapped, turning back for the window, struggling against the urge to scream and rage and…be consumed by a fury I was sure would ruin me forever.
“Natalie, there is nothing going on between me and Luc.” Her voice was gentle once more, not raised and angry as it had been, and though I tried to ignore her words, I couldn’t completely block them out. “There’s never been anything between me and Luc besides friendship. I’m not his kitten, if that’s what you’re thinking. I never was. I didn’t even know him during that part of my life.”
Desolation swirled inside me. I closed my eyes again and breathed through my nose, because instead of lashing out, now I was fighting the urge to cry, and I didn’t understand why.
Soft footsteps sounded at my back. “Luc has a friend in Italy,” Sela said somewhere close. “I think it’s the only person he trusts in his House. The friend’s wife is English. She gets people out. She’s got connections. She rescued me from that hell I was living, gave me a new identity, and set me up with a new life in America. But I was struggling then. I…I was pretty screwed up for a while after I got away. Luc was looking for someone to manage his house here around that time, and when the woman realized I wasn’t going to make it in the States, she asked him if I could come here and work for him instead. I needed to be all by myself, to work through all the screwed-up things in my head, and this island gave me the chance to do that. I didn’t come here for anything other than a job, and I didn’t trust Luc at the start, just like you don’t now, but I learned rather quickly that I had nothing to fear from him. He’s not like the others in his House. I’m not his kitten. I never have been, and I never will be. And I promise you, he’s never once looked at me the way he looks at you.”
Shit. The flood of tears I’d been holding back burst forward, and I swiped a hand across my cheek, hating how erratic my emotions were these days.
A creak echoed, and then the cushion on the window seat moved as she sat near my feet.
“Ever since Luc brought you here, he’s been a mess. Did you know he’s spent almost every night in this room making sure you were okay? First when you were coming out of your drugged haze, and then when you were battling delirium from that fever? He hasn’t been taking care of himself. All he’s been doing is making sure you have everything you need.”
Even though I wanted to go on hating her, I couldn’t, and when I looked at her, I saw her gaze was no longer filled with anger but was gentle and somber. I blinked against the stupid tears still burning my eyes, afraid to believe what she was telling me. “Every night?”
A one-sided smile pulled at her lips. “Just about. I don’t think so much the last few nights, but you had some wicked nightmares before, and the only thing that seemed to calm you was him.”
Dreams I’d had over the last week pinged around in my brain. In all of them, especially when I’d been scared, I’d sensed Luc somewhere close. I’d gone looking for him.
I glanced across the room. Had he been in that bed beside me? Comforting me and lulling me back to sleep? Was that why I’d dreamt of him?
I closed my eyes and shook my head, even more confused. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“I know that feeling. I also know that the only person you feel you can trust right now is yourself. But I’m here to tell you, you can trust Luc. Whatever you think you know about him, you’re wro
ng.”
“I saw it.” I looked at her again, unsure and miserable. “I saw him there, wearing that cape and mask.”
Pity filled her eyes. A pity that told me she knew exactly what I’d seen. “He didn’t participate.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know him.”
I huffed.
“If you understood what happened twelve years ago that made him leave Italy, you’d know why he could never participate too.”
A conversation Luc and I’d had in Venice flashed in my mind. One that had taken place long before I’d known about his House and the sick ritual I’d witnessed. He’d told me then that he’d left Italy to sow his oats, but Sela was making it sound as if something else had pushed him to leave. Something traumatic. My brow lowered. “What happened?”
“It’s not my place to tell you. You should ask him.”
“He won’t answer. He likes his secrets way too much.”
“Only because he’s scared how knowing his secret will change the way you see him.”
Unease spread through my belly. From the first moment I’d met Luc, I’d sensed there was something dark and troubled in his past. His need for control was about more than not being able to change his environment. It came from a moment in his past he couldn’t alter. I’d tried to get him to open up to me in Italy. I’d tried to get him to trust me. Then I’d seen that ritual in the trees, and thinking that was his secret, it had scared me so much, I’d run from him. But now… Now Sela was telling me there was something more, something darker, and a place deep inside my soul was almost too scared to know the whole truth.
Her hand slid over my fingers where they rested on my updrawn knee, and she squeezed in a way that was both reassuring and frightening. “I’m pretty sure he’ll tell you if you ask him. Especially now, after all his other plans to win you back have failed. You’re tougher than most women I know. You’re definitely tougher than me.”
When she winked and smiled, all the ways I’d belittled her over the last week hit me hard. “Shit. You must hate me. I’ve been a total bitch.”
Sela’s smile widened. “You haven’t been that bad. Though I was starting to question my cooking skills.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been so angry with Luc, and I thought—”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have assumed. I should have asked what your relationship was with him. I have no excuse except that I was”—the words turned to ashes in my mouth—“jealous.”
“Jealous is good. It means you still care.”
My stomach twisted because I knew that was exactly what it meant. Only I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to care or if Luc was even worth caring about, especially when I wasn’t sure I could live with whatever awful thing he’d done in his past.
Sela squeezed my hand one last time, then let go and pushed to her feet. “You should try to sleep. You look tired. And maybe eat a little first. That’s adding extra stress on Luc—the fact you’re losing so much weight. At least try to eat half the sandwich I made.”
He was worried about my weight? He hadn’t said a word about how I looked. In fact, I was sure he hadn’t even noticed. Then again, every time he’d stepped foot in my room I’d been ready for a fight, so he’d probably steered clear of that topic for safety reasons.
I watched Sela walk toward the door, a mixture of guilt and gratitude swirling in my chest. “Thank you.” It was hard to get the words past the lump in my throat, but I forced myself to say them. “I promise not to be such a crazed bitch the next time I see you.”
Sela grinned as she opened the door wider and glanced back at me. “Crazed bitch. I kinda like that. You know, the other day I asked Luc what was so special about you that made him upend his entire life in a split second, and do you know what he told me?”
I was almost too afraid to ask. “What?”
“He said it was because you see the real him in a way no one else ever has. I didn’t believe him then. I mean, considering how angry you’ve been with him, it seemed obvious you couldn’t see all the things he was doing to keep you safe. But after talking to you today, I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe you do see the real him, you’re just too afraid to take a chance. I know all about being afraid. It’s frightening to think about letting go of all the things you thought you knew and reach for something that’s not guaranteed to last, especially when you’ve been hurt. But that’s life, isn’t it? If you don’t try, if you don’t take the risk, then you stay in the same place forever and nothing ever changes. You have to be willing to look to see the truth, not with your eyes but with your heart.”
She turned out of the room, closing the door softly at her back as she left, and alone, as I stared after her, my heart beat hard and fast.
She was right. I’d been able to see beyond Luc’s façade of domination in Italy because I’d been looking with my heart and not my eyes. Since I’d been on this island, since I’d awoken and found that tattoo on my finger, I’d been filled with so much anger, I’d closed my heart off and accepted only what my eyes told me were true. But I knew deep in my soul there was more. More to Luc, more to what had happened in his past, more to everything between us.
That connection I’d felt with him from the start ignited inside me, making my pulse run hot and my skin tingle, but I was still scared. Scared to know the whole truth. Scared of what it would do to me. Scared of how it would change the way I truly did see him forever.
Because even though I seemed strong, even though I’d spent my life proving to everyone around me that I was independent and happy and that I didn’t need anyone to lean on, the bitter truth was…inside, I was empty. A shell of a person, floating through life, fooling others into thinking I was whole and content and complete when the sad reality was…I’d had nothing.
Nothing until I’d met Luc.
The passion we’d shared burned through me, but it was doused by a bitter cold shot of betrayal. Leaning my head back against the wall, I closed my eyes and breathed deep, thinking through all the things Sela had said, remembering every moment I’d spent with Luc in Italy.
I didn’t know who to believe—her, him, myself. I didn’t know if I could trust my heart or my eyes. I only knew that there were two kinds of pain in life—the kind that hurts a person and the kind that changes a person. I’d lived through the first, and it hadn’t done anything but harden me into someone I didn’t like. I ached for this pain inside me to trigger the second.
I was just deathly afraid to discover whether it would change me for good or bad.
Chapter Eight
Luc
I’d hiked around the island for hours, hoping physical exhaustion would help me figure out what I should do. As dusk turned to darkness and I approached the house, I still didn’t have a fucking clue.
Nerves gathered in my stomach as I paused to stare at the warm glow radiating from Natalie’s windows. Sickness threatened when I thought of telling her about my past, but I forced the nausea back, knowing if it came to that, I’d have to lay it all out on the line regardless of how it would destroy things between us. After today, there wasn’t a lot left to destroy, so it really shouldn’t matter. And if she wasn’t going to believe she was in danger, I had to make it glaringly obvious for her.
My head told me I was doing the right thing, but my heart begged me to turn around. Brushing a dusty hand over my hair, I muttered, “Enough,” and pushed my legs forward.
I bypassed the front door, followed the wraparound porch to the back of the house, and entered through the kitchen. Silence met my ears as I kicked the door closed. My gaze skipped over the pristine counters and empty room, landing on a note pinned to the fridge.
Luc,
Your dinner’s in the oven, and Natalie’s in her room. She already ate—two helpings of my lasagna. I think I finally found something she likes. Try not to be such an ass when you talk to her. Girls don’t like it so much. Haych and I are heading home. See you
tomorrow.
—Sela
I frowned as I tugged the note off the fridge and read it again. I knew what Sela wanted me to talk to Natalie about, and I hated that I’d come around to her way of thinking. The only plus in this whole fucked-up situation was that Natalie had eaten today.
Dropping my bag on a kitchen chair, I tossed the note in the garbage, then took my time washing the dirt off my hands and splashing water on my face. The sweet scent of Sela’s lasagna floated in the room, and my stomach grumbled, but I didn’t reach for the dinner she’d left me. My stomach was still in too much of a knot, and I knew I’d never be able to eat until I did what I’d come here to do.
Bracing myself for the inevitable, I turned for the hall and told myself I was out of options, that I was doing the right thing. But still I clung to the hope that when I opened her door, the woman who’d adored me so completely in Italy would be the one staring back at me, not the one who hated me on this island with every fiber of her being.
Instinct told me to push the door open so she couldn’t turn me away, but I lifted my hand and knocked instead.
“Come in,” Natalie called.
For a split second, I froze, wanting that soft voice to be for me, knowing she was probably expecting Sela. Then I told myself to snap out of it, to stop being a pussy, and I stepped into the room.
She was perched on the window seat that had become her favorite spot in the room—back against the wall, feet flat on the cushions with her knees drawn in and pointed toward the ceiling. She’d changed into a black tank and pink pajama bottoms, and her dark curly hair fell around her face as she turned my way. Her features were void of makeup, and her pretty blue eyes looked tired, but to me, she’d never been more beautiful. And in a rush of agony that gripped my chest and squeezed with the force of a boa constrictor, I knew that I was probably going to regret this decision for the rest of my life.