by Zavi James
“I’ll stay over there,” I told him, gesturing at a chair in his room, but Luc got up on his feet.
“No! No. Stay with me, Mia. Please… I need you.”
Luc cupped my face in both of his hands. He had a surprisingly gentle touch considering how intoxicated he was. There was a strong smell of whiskey, but the underlying scent of mint and pinewood lingered on his skin.
I swallowed hard and felt my heart thumping in my chest, blood thundering in my ears as against my better judgement I agreed, “Okay.”
He moved aside and gestured to the bed. I paused for a moment before climbing into it, and then Luc got in beside me. His head rested on the pillow as he looked up at me, his usual styled hair messy and all over the place. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and brushed some strands away from his forehead. Catching my hand, he kissed my fingertips. The action caught me off guard and I pulled my hand away, skin tingling, before scooting farther away from him. This was business to him. I needed to be here so Dad would pay him back on time.
There would be no more episodes of clouded judgement. No more chances for me to be proven a fool.
“What happened, Luc?” I asked him. I was curious to know why he got into a fight, and wanted to move the conversation away from any dangerous topics.
“I needed to feel something,” he answered.
“What? Pain?”
Luc let out a bark of laughter that was so harsh that it made me jump. Something clouded over in his eyes as he said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
Reaching out again, I ran a hand through his dark brown hair. The remnants of product and sweat had left it with a tacky feel. Luc closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “Mia, why do you keep doing this to me?” He opened his eyes again and looked up at me.
“I’m not doing anything,” I told him as my stomach flooded with adrenaline. What did I keep doing?
I wasn’t sure I’d given the answer he wanted as he closed his eyes again. I slipped farther down the bed and towards the edge before curling up, watching him. I’d wait for Luc to fall asleep before I slipped back into my room.
∞∞∞
The sharp, bright summer sunlight made me stir as it hit my face and I felt something solid against me. My eyes snapped open to see the familiar tattoos that decorated Luc’s arm around my waist and I instantly panicked. Last night I had watched Luc as he lay there, his breathing slowly becoming even, and now I remembered just how comfortable I’d felt nestled between the covers. My body had been seduced by the coziness of the bed and betrayed me by falling asleep. I made an attempt to wiggle out from Luc’s grasp, but his arm pulled me tighter against him, fitting against the curve of his body, and he mumbled something against my shoulder.
“Lucas, let go,” I told him firmly. With some effort, I managed to pull myself free as he rolled over onto his back and groaned. From the corner of my eye I saw him stretch out, covers falling to reveal his toned body, before he opened his eyes.
Tripping over my own feet in my haste to get out of his bed, I managed to catch myself before I hit the floor. Luc propped himself up on his elbows and watched me intently, traces of amusement at the corners of his mouth. He looked tired and the bruises on his face were darker than a few hours ago.
“I shouldn’t even be here,” I mumbled to myself, frustrated that I fell asleep when I had meant to return to my room. This had not helped to define lines between us again.
“Mia, I think we need to talk,” Luc said calmly.
I didn’t give him the chance to continue before I bolted out the door. I didn’t want to talk to Luc. There was nothing to discuss. What I needed was to make sure I stayed as far away from him as possible.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas
By the time I got home it was late in the afternoon. I had to retrieve my car from the bar, and I stopped in to check on Dante as way of an apology. He’d filled in the blanks from the evening’s events. Every now and then things found a way to bubble over and I turned to the bottle to help ease the pain. There were occasions, though not very often, that I forgot my limits, and unfortunately last night had been one of them.
I’d left work to Dante in order to get home early and talk to Mia. She had run from the room this morning and the hangover had stopped me from chasing after her. At the rate I was going, I knew I’d be lucky if she gave me the time of day even if I caught her. I couldn’t stop thinking about her and the way she felt in my arms this morning, fitting perfectly against my body where she belonged.
“Mia?”
I checked all the usual spots in the house, but she wasn’t occupying any of them. As I walked through the house, I could hear her raucous laughter and I followed it through to the living room. Standing in the doorway, I saw she sat with her legs curled beneath her while Dom laid his head in her lap. Her fingers worked through his hair deftly.
The same anger that burned through me when I saw Dante near her sparked up in my chest again. We were never on the same page long enough to have a moment like this. My heart tugged at how candidly the affection ran between the pair of them. I craved for devotion that came because of a genuine relationship, instead of money and power. I craved it from Mia.
“Mia.” My voice held a darkness that I was unable to push away.
She turned her head and the smile dropped from her face when she registered me. Dom shot up from where he was lying and stood by the couch.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better, boss,” he said with a nod, cottoning onto my mood.
“Dom, don’t you have any work you should be getting on with?” I asked, eyes narrowing as they focused on him. He gave me another nod before squeezing past me out of the room with a mumbled apology.
“I should probably leave,” Mia muttered.
I turned back to look at her and shot down the suggestion. “You can’t keep avoiding me.”
Walking into the room, I took a seat beside her on the couch.
“I’m not avoiding you,” she said defiantly.
I decided that it would be best not to pick an argument with her for the fact she had just lied to my face. Instead, I tried a different tactic. “I wanted to thank you for last night. You cleaned up my cuts. You stayed with me.”
When Mia recovered from the shock she said, “You needed help.” Her answer is short and blunt, and I nod.
“Well, I appreciate it.”
She shifted in her seat so that she faced me. Mia’s eyes were so dark they looked almost black unless the light caught them, and then they melted into a golden hue. When she gave me her full attention like this, I had to suppress the urge to pull her into me and kiss her again. I was yet to have my fill of this woman.
“Is that all you wanted to say?” she asked me tersely.
I took in a deep breath. “No. The other night with Amber, I need you to know—”
Mia raised a hand. The same one that had tenderly rested against my face last night as she cared for me. “Stop, Lucas.”
I hated the way she wouldn't call me Luc when she had become so familiar with everyone else. By only calling me by my given name Mia ensured a level of professionalism between us that I now wanted to strike out.
“Mia, please,” I tried. It was not a word I was in the habit of using, but the more time I invested in the woman, whether by accident or not, the more she had begun to infiltrate my thoughts. I wouldn’t beg but I could make an effort if that was what was required of me.
“No. I don’t need to know anything. That’s your personal life, Lucas, and as you keep saying, this is strictly business.”
Internally, I recoiled at the phrase as it came back to bite me. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Mia asked. “Lucas, for me to be hurt means I would have to care, and I don’t.”
The way she said it felt like a slap to the face. She had cared. It had been written all over her face that morning, and Dante had confirmed as much. Yet she would rather lie than try to talk about
it with me. Why was it so difficult for her to try to build some sort of relationship with me when she clearly managed with others? I clenched my jaw as I told her, “Fine. Well, I’m glad that’s clear and that we both understand.”
I got up, tired of her attitude, and was about to leave the room in hope of avoiding another disaster with her when she called out to me.
“Lucas.”
“What, Mia?”
“Last night,” she started.
That had my attention. I turned back to see her arms folded across her chest.
“What about it?” I searched my brain, trying to remember if there was something I had said or done that would cause her to discuss it with me. It remained hazy in my mind; the only clarity came in the form of her face so near mine that I should have taken the chance to kiss her once more.
“D,” Mia said, and I bristled at the way she shortened Dante’s name. Of all the people she favored over me, he was the one that made me rankle the most. “I went to hug him, and he said he wouldn’t want you to break his other arm.”
My expression remained neutral. “What are you asking?”
“Did you break his arm?”
I let the silence stretch between us. I’d made enough of a mess over the past few days, though why should I care? Apparently, Mia did not.
“You wanted respect and honesty, Lucas,” Mia reminded me, waiting for my answer
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I broke his arm,” I confirmed.
She pushed herself off the sofa and tried to leave but I blocked her path with my body.
“Move, Lucas,” Mia told me angrily.
If it weren’t for the storm brewing between us, I would have thought Mia was cute for trying to tell me what to do. I was easily a foot taller than her and her tiny frame wouldn’t have been able to move me even with her full effort behind it.
“Where are you going?” I asked her.
“I want to see him.”
“He’s not here.”
“Why did you do it?” she demanded, looking up at me. Was it only me who pulled the anger out of her? I mulled over the answer to her question but wasn’t sure if it would help the situation. “Honesty.”
I hated the fact she had begun to use the code against me. I had implemented those rules for her to follow but she would only do so if I obliged in return.
“He touched you, Mia.”
“What?” Mia asked, confused as I ran a hand through my hair.
“I saw him slap your ass.” Even the thought of it made my blood boil. If I was honest, I wasn’t impressed with the fact that Dante hugged her, let alone anything else. The only reason Dom had his bones intact was because his interests lay in men and not women.
“So, you thought you’d break his arm?!” Mia asked, outraged. The anger was no longer a small spark but a fiery inferno.
“I’m not going to have anyone disrespect you,” I told her simply, standing my ground. It was an effort to stay calm but there wasn’t a need to be screaming at each other.
Quite obviously, I’d just given her the wrong answer because Mia began to yell louder. “Disrespect?! You want to talk about disrespect after what you did the other night?!”
I couldn’t help myself as I commented smoothly, “I thought you didn’t care.”
Mia all but screamed in frustration before she jammed her index finger into my chest, and I took a step back. It was surprisingly painful for a single digit.
“Stay away from me and don’t you dare touch Dante again! I swear, Lucas. You’re an awful human being!”
She pushed herself past me and I watched her go, standing there feeling the sting of her words for the second time that day.
Chapter Twelve
Mia
I’d done everything in my power to avoid Lucas over the past few days. It wasn’t difficult since work seemed to be keeping him preoccupied, and I made an effort to turn up to breakfast late, much to his annoyance. In the short moments we were in each other’s company I didn’t indulge him in conversation. The anger hadn’t subsided, and it was accompanied by guilt that Dante’s arm had been broken because of me. Both emotions weighed heavily on my shoulders and I couldn’t trust myself to be polite around Luc and keep my temper in check.
“Dom, will you take me to see Dante?” He was currently trying to fix a tap in my bathroom, and I’d perched myself on the edge of the tub, watching him work. I may not have been able to do anything about my anger, but I could try and resolve the guilt.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked me without looking up.
“I just want to talk to him.”
“Is Lucas alright with that?”
“It’s not up to him who I can and can’t speak to,” I told him, sharper than I had intended.
Dom snorted in response and I was irritated that he wouldn’t take me seriously.
“If you won’t take me, I’ll find a way to get there myself.” That was a small lie. I had no clue where Dante lived and no means of getting there, but I hoped he’d buy my bluff.
“Do you want me to be killed?” Dom asked, finally looking up at me.
“No,” I said, knowing it was a moderate possibility. “That’s why I asked you first.”
He mumbled something in Portuguese that I couldn’t comprehend, so I shot him a smile and said, “I take that as a yes.”
Later that afternoon, Dom dropped me off at Dante’s house armed with a large basket of sweet goods that Lydia had helped me to bake. I knocked on the door, and when Dante answered he looked surprised to see me.
“Mia? What are you doing here?”
“I come bearing gifts,” I told him and held out the basket of treats. He grinned before taking it from me with his good arm and inviting me into his home. It wasn’t as sleek as Luc’s, and had a warmer feel, which rang true to D’s personality.
“Does Luc know you’re here?” Dante asked. He looked a little nervous as he placed the basket on the coffee table and took a seat.
“I don’t care.”
“Mia,” Dante groaned, closing his eyes.
"I know that he broke your arm because of me."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Wow, straight to the point. You really are more alike than you’d both care to admit." He sat a little straighter in his chair and let out a sigh.
“I’m so sorry. I told him he shouldn’t have done it,” I said. “I told him not to touch you again.”
“Well, that would explain why he’s not picking up any of my calls at the moment.”
“Why are you even trying to get in touch with him?” I asked, surprised that he wanted to keep in contact with Luc.
Dante nodded towards the couch before opening the cellophane on the basket so he could dip into it. I took a seat while he pulled out a cookie and took a bite before leaning back.
“Has anyone ever told you that you see the world too black and white?” Dante asked me, waving the cookie, crumbs scattering everywhere.
“Maybe.”
He let out a small laugh. “This is nothing, Mia. It’ll heal. These are amazing by the way.” Dante held up the cookie and waved it again before he took another bite.
“You’re meant to be friends,” I said, not quite believing how blasé he was about the whole affair. “What kind of friend does something like that?”
“Are you an only child?” Dante asked, and I nodded, not sure where he was going with this tangent. He smiled and continued, “Same, until I met Luc.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was pretty much raised with Luc by Charlie and Lydia.”
“Who’s Charlie?” I asked, not sure if I’d heard mention of the name before.
“Luc’s Dad.” Dante cleared up the confusion. “He passed away four years ago now. That’s when Luc stepped up and took on the business.”
Shifting in my chair, I got comfortable. Somehow, it felt like Dante shouldn’t have told me this information, but I wasn’t goi
ng to stop him. I knew there was more to Luc than the facade he put on, but I didn’t realize just how much he might have gone through. I remembered the sadness that had filled his features the night he had come home drunk, but pressed down on any sympathy towards him.
“Thing is Mia,” Dante said. “A broken bone between brothers doesn’t mean much. We’ve scrapped a lot over the years over all sorts of things. He was mad. I think he probably still is, because you found out about, it but we’ll sort it out.”
I narrowed my eyes, unhappy with how he seemed to just brush it off like Luc had pushed him. “It’s not right, Dante. You shouldn’t just forgive things like that.”
“Do you forgive your father for the situation you’re in?”
“That’s different.”
“Why?” Dante asked curiously. “Because he’s your blood? Luc is mine.” He finished his cookie and instantly reached for another.
“Dad didn’t physically hurt me,” I pointed out to him.
He shrugged his shoulders, apparently not caring for my logical argument.
“You are so different. I just don’t understand how you are even friends, let alone family,” I said.
Suddenly, Dante sat forward and placed the cookie on the table. “You think we’re different?”
“Well, yes,” I said, although I felt unsure now.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, Mia. You really aren’t a part of our world, are you? You don’t think I’m like Luc because I keep my temper in check around you?”
“You’re nothing like him,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“In my general disposition? Sure,” he agreed. “I like to look at the bright side, but I’m his right hand, Mia. Make no mistake that what you think he’s capable of, I can and have done exactly the same. A broken arm isn’t much for us because it could be a lot worse.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my chest tightened with anxiety.
“And even though he’s done this to me to prove a point,” Dante said, surveying the arm that’s in a cast. “A point, may I add, that was about you and the importance you play in his life, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t take a bullet for my brother.”