by S. Van Horne
“Whoa, Lucca,” Jason replied, holding up his hands in front of him. “I’m not insulting her. I’m explaining to you why she contacted The Meat Market. She wants to get used to being around a man again before she starts her new job and figured it might be easier if she was paying for the time. I guess she thinks there’s less of a chance somebody she is paying would hurt her. You were the first guy I thought of when her friend came in to talk to me, but if you’re not interested, I can easily take this engagement. Hell, spending a weekend with this beauty wouldn’t be hard at all. Fuck, with a face like Essex’s, I’m betting I’d stay hard all weekend, sex or no sex.”
“Do you want to die today, Jay? Because I swear to God, if you so much as sniff the air in her direction, you’ll be looking for more than just a replacement for me. You’ll be too busy recovering from your injuries inside a full body cast,” I threatened as I felt a wave of possessiveness flood me. It was a new experience for me. Because while I respected women and deeply enjoyed their company, I never found one that brought out this side of me. I knew just by looking at Essex’s photo that I was going to be a greedy bastard when it came to her attention. I wanted her focus to be on me alone. And that would definitely work both ways. She was already the only thing I could think of.
Jason’s chuckle rumbled through the small office as he leaned forward to clasp his hands loosely on the desk. “Lucca, take a breath, man. I had a feeling once you saw this chick and heard her story that you’d want this weekend with her. It’s why I called you. You can un-clench. I’ve got no interest in this woman. I’m not a big believer in all that destiny bullshit, but it’s fairly clear this chick was meant for you.”
Hearing his words, I relaxed slightly, leaning back in my seat and loosening my white-knuckle grip on the chair. “I knew we were friends for a reason,” I mumbled, beyond relieved that Jay had the good sense not to send Essex to one of the other men that made up his diverse crew of escorts. They were all good guys who would give up a limb before they raised a hand to a woman, but still…Essex was meant for me.
Jason shot me an amused smile. “Glad to hear you’re not gonna start threatening me.”
“We both know I don’t have to do that.” I shrugged easily. “Because we both know what would happen if you stood between me and a woman I’ve decided will be mine.” It was true, too. Jay was well aware that I didn’t tolerate any obstacle getting in my way when I settled on a goal. And sweet Essex was definitely now my sole goal.
“Please tell me you don’t plan to bulldoze your way into this woman’s life, Lucca. After everything I’ve shared with you, you gotta know those kinds of tactics will only make this injured bird take flight. Intimidation ain’t the way to this one’s heart,” he warned me, leaning forward to tap his finger against Essex’s image. “She’s wounded. She’s scared. And man, flip the page,” he ordered, lifting his chin toward the file.
Not liking the look in his eyes, I quickly reached for the folder and flipped the page as my eyes quickly landed on another picture of her. A much, much different photo. In this one, she was lying in a narrow hospital bed, her face swollen and distorted to the point where her eyes were barely visible. She was beaten black and blue, the bruises looking garish against her pale face, but even that wasn’t the worst part.
No.
As my eyes scanned down the page, a smaller photo had been printed against the paper. This one was obviously of the same woman, only it was a view of her back with her hospital gown pulled back to expose the painful-looking wounds over her spinal area and posterior. Wincing, I quickly realized that these weren’t just any old injuries. It looked like her asshole ex-husband had lashed Essex with a whip, marring this gorgeous woman’s perfection by making deep lacerations in the alabaster flesh. God, how this sweet angel must have suffered! It turned my stomach and made me feel homicidal. I wished with all my heart that this demented fucker was still alive so that I could make him hurt the way he’d forced his wife to hurt. Staring at the photo, I knew in my gut that there were no way marks like that hadn’t made scars.
Awful, hideous blemishes against her otherwise flawless skin.
Yeah, I wanted to murder this sick fuck for what he’d done to her.
“She’s scarred, Lucca,” I heard Jay say softly, regretfully. “Inside and out. So, if you want her, you’ll have to show her that not every man wants to destroy the light in a woman’s eyes. And you’ll have to show her patience like you’ve never known before. And knowing you like I do, I gotta ask: Can you do that?”
Slowly I lifted my eyes from the file to my friend, and I swallowed painfully, wild emotions clogging my throat. I was angry at the fuck that had done this to Essex. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to convince this sweet, battered woman that she no longer had anything to fear. I was excited that I’d finally found her…the woman that would own my soul. I was a lot of things.
But the thing I felt the most?
An overwhelming sense of purpose.
Because one look at Essex Landry showed me what I was missing in my life.
Her.
“Jason, make no mistake. I’ll give Essex whatever she needs to have. She’s meant to be mine.”
Nodding once, Jason grinned. “Good. The engagement starts tomorrow night at five o’clock and ends…”
“It doesn’t end, Jay,” I interrupted.
“Okay,” he laughed at me. “Let me re-phrase. She thinks it ends Sunday evening at seven. She hasn’t specifically asked for any kind of intimacy, but instead wants to play it by ear. Mostly, she wants to get herself accustomed to being around a man. She’s afraid when she starts at the hospital she’ll end up having one of her panic attacks if she’s around a man too long. She’s been in therapy, but she still has episodes of severe terror if a guy makes a sudden movement or raises his voice. If that happens with you, the best friend has indicated you should call her.”
“That won’t be necessary. If Essex has a panic attack, we’ll work through it. Ultimately, Essex will call all the shots with me, Jason. You don’t need to worry. She will be entirely in charge,” I assured him calmly, rising from my chair, eager to get on the road. Yeah, it was only Thursday afternoon, but I wasn’t waiting an entire day to make my move. If I was correct, and I almost always was, right now, Essex was doubting her unorthodox approach to try and cure her aversion to men. She was very likely regretting her decision to reach out to an escort for help and by tomorrow morning, she’d have herself talked out of the idea entirely. I wasn’t going to risk that. Now that I’d seen her picture and knew her story, I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers. I’d simply swing by her apartment, introduce myself, and let her know I knew her situation and was eager to help.
Yeah, maybe my plans were a little presumptuous. And maybe a tad rash.
But she was alone.
She was frightened.
And I could prevent both of those things.
I wasn’t staying away from her. Not even for one more night.
CHAPTER THREE
ESSEX
STARING INTO MY BATHROOM MIRROR as I pulled my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, I couldn’t help freezing in place at the startling sound of my doorbell abruptly peeling. Old habits died really hard in my world, and I wasn’t expecting anyone.
Truthfully, I was never expecting anyone since I rarely had people over to my tiny apartment. I supposed that behavior was a holdover to my time with my rat bastard of an ex. He’d despised it when we’d had guests pop by our place while we’d been married because he’d said he’d never wanted to share my attention with anyone—not even my parents. I had a different theory. After all, it was terribly difficult to “discipline” a disobedient wife for her sins with a backhand to the face or an elbow to the ribs if there were witnesses sitting in the living room. And because I was so used to his way of doing things, I rarely had anyone inside my home—even now—when I knew that I was technically safe.
Even my best friend, Lennon,
had only been inside my place a couple of times, and a quick glance at the clock on my mantle confirmed that she’d already be at her second job. As part owner of a tiny bar called The Spice Rack, Lennie often immersed herself in bookkeeping for the fledgling business during her off hours from hairdressing. Besides, mostly, we hung out at her condo, it was way nicer anyway, or met up at the park or the café near my place. There was no way she’d pop in unannounced…not without at least trying to call me first. She knew how badly the unexpected freaked me out. So, the fact that my doorbell was loudly ringing for the second time had me virtually paralyzed with fear.
When it rang a third time, I knew I had to move and forced myself to go toward the living room. “Just a second,” I called out shakily as my legs trembled. Reaching the front door, I went up on my toes to peek out the peephole, breathing a sigh of relief at the identity of my visitor. Then, I gasped.
Because while the visitor standing outside my door wasn’t here to hurt me, he also wasn’t supposed to be here yet.
Of course, from what I read about him in the financial pages of the paper, Lucca freaking Falconi, aka the Italian Sausage, didn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own. And while he wasn’t exactly uninvited, he was a whole day early for our engagement.
“Essex? It’s Lucca Falconi,” a deep, soothing voice called to me from behind the closed door. “Sweetheart, don’t be frightened. I know you’re in there. I can see the shadow of your feet beneath the door.”
Embarrassed that he knew I was cowering behind the door, I felt my cheeks heat and silently cursed myself for my hang-ups. Hot guy at the door and I go into hiding? Great way to meet people, huh? But I couldn’t help who I was…or who Foster had made me into.
“W-what are you doing here? We aren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow afternoon,” I informed him, my voice wobbling slightly as I shifted from one foot to the other. I knew I wasn’t having a normal reaction. Most women would have opened the door by now. Hell, for a man that looked like he did, with his raw, chiseled good looks, they would have thrown the door open and yanked Lucca inside with them. Then they’d bar that freaking door and hold him hostage until he delivered the multiple friggin’ orgasms a man like him could provide. Me, however? I was a different story altogether, and I wasn’t sure I could open my front door if the apartment was on fire around me. That’s exactly how scared I felt. Thanks for that, Foster, you asshat!
“I actually came by to talk to you about this weekend. Jason, or you probably know him as The Butcher, filled me in a little bit about you and your special circumstances. May I come in and talk to you for a minute? I promise I’ll leave as soon as you ask me to go,” I heard him vow, his deep voice both clear and gentle. It was weird. I almost instinctively trusted that voice, and I didn’t do that with men. Not ever. Not since the dickhead.
“I…I’m not sure,” I said uncertainly, chewing my bottom lip. “Maybe this was a mistake. I’m not sure I’m ready…”
“Essex, you don’t need to be afraid of me, and you are definitely not making a mistake, but I can’t prove that to you unless we talk for a little bit. We can do it through the door if you like. I’ll talk to you through the door all weekend if that’s what you need me to do, bella.”
I grew warm as I heard him used the Italian endearment. “Why the hell would you think I’m beautiful?” I mumbled shyly.
“Because it’s obvious. I’ve seen your picture. It was in the file I was given. You’re gorgeous. Although, your file never mentioned that you know some Italian,” I heard his pleased voice remark as my cheeks grew warmer. Jiminy Cricket! He hadn’t been supposed to actually hear me!
“I only know just a tiny bit. I watched a lot of Fellini films when I was a teenager. I guess I picked up a few words here and there,” I admitted, leaning my shoulder against the door as I took another quick peek out the peephole. Seeing him smiling, I noticed that he had a deep dimple in his left cheek and, somehow, it made him look more human to me. And a hell of a lot hotter, too!
“I like Fellini, too,” he returned easily. “Nights of Cabiria was my favorite. What was yours?”
“I love them all, but I guess La Dolce Vita was my favorite,” I replied softly, leaning my forehead against the door, unable to quite believe I was talking to this Adonis standing just on the other side. Why was I making him wait? He seemed…not harmless, exactly. He was definitely big enough to do some damage. I guess he just seemed so…honorable. Which was crazy, I guess, since essentially the man was a gigolo, or as some would say…a paid whore. Which even little old naïve me knew was NOT exactly a noble profession even if it was a side-profession in his case.
“Ah, a classic. Good choice, sweetheart,” he praised me, his friendly tone drawing me in, making me yearn to trust him. “Are you a big a fan of foreign films then?”
“I watch them when I want to see something different,” I answered quickly, my mind suddenly made up. “Listen, if I let you inside, you promise to go when I tell you to leave?” I asked him as my hand hovered over the brass door knob, my palm sweaty and uncertain as it slipped around the cool metal.
“Absolutely, Essex,” he assured me quietly. “You will never be in any danger from me. That is my vow to you. What’s that old saying? You’ve got to take a chance on somebody sometime? Why not take it with me, cara?”
Taking a deep breath, I quickly decided that it was definitely time to take that risk on somebody, and I quickly twisted my wrist to turn the knob before I could convince myself it was a bad idea. I opened the door just a few inches to cautiously peer out at the extremely tall man standing just over my threshold. He had to at least be six feet two, or three, inches tall, and at my insubstantial five feet four, he towered above me, making me feel small and helpless—not feelings that I enjoyed too much. Swallowing hard as my eyes moved over him, I noted he was dressed in the same jeans and t-shirt I’d seen him in earlier, and he seemed to be even bigger in person. And somehow, he was even more handsome, which I would have sworn earlier would be impossible. “Hi,” I greeted him weakly, lifting a hand to wave feebly at him as I felt his dark chocolate eyes settle on me.
“Hello, cara mia,” he returned, his smile warm and amiable as his eyes warmed. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open the door. I know that had to be hard for you.”
Dropping my eyes from his, I shook my head as my chest tightened. “You have no idea. Whatever information Lennon gave you in my file, it doesn’t come close to describing what I’ve been through,” I murmured, feeling self-conscious. I knew Lennon had given the butcher an overview of what happened to me, but I honestly had no ideas what details she’d divulged. I hoped she hadn’t been too graphic, but knowing Lennon, she’d probably spilled my whole horrifying story.
I gasped as I felt gentle fingers underneath my chin, lifting my head back up. “Never drop your head in shame, Essex. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a survivor, and that is something to be proud of. You are right, though. Your file did only contain the basic overview of what you’ve endured. Maybe someday you’ll tell me the entire story, but until then, I know enough to understand that I need to tread carefully and gently with you, little one,” he said firmly, and I could see the admiration and approval gleaming in his dark eyes.
Licking my lips, I nodded mutely—because really, what else could I say to that? Taking a step back, I gestured for him to come inside and held my breath as he took a step forward. Waiting until he crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind him with a mildly trembling hand and guided him toward my sofa, praying every step of the way that I could handle this. Looking around my small apartment, I was glad that I was a neat person. Everything was in its place. I’d done the dishes and the laundry yesterday, so there were no stray items laying around the room. It was both clean and tidy. I didn’t have much, but what I did own was nice and well cared for. My place was nothing fancy, but it was mine. All mine, built from nothing, and I was proud of what I’d achieved. “Please sit down,” I
invited him, nodding toward my yellow overstuffed couch. It had been a thrift store find, but I had loved it instantly when I’d found it. It was soft and cushiony, great for either taking a long nap or curling up with a good book, two things which I’d done a lot of since getting away from Foster. “May I get you anything to drink?” I asked as I watched him lower his massive body to the center seat.
“No, thank you,” he refused with another smile. “I actually dropped by to talk to you about our weekend. I just wanted to get a feel for what you were looking for during our time together.”
Rubbing my damp palms against my worn blue jeans, I bent to take the seat beside him. The sofa was the only furniture I had in this room besides the painted coffee table in front of us that I’d purchased from a yard sale a few weeks back. Silently, I debated how best to answer his inquiry. True, I was paying for his time, but I knew if I was to get the most out of this experience, then I was going to have to honestly communicate with him. It wasn’t fair to expect him to read my mind, especially since I doubted that I was his traditional kind of client. Let’s face it, there was nothing normal about me. Uncomfortably, I asked, “What exactly do you know about me, Mr. Falconi?”
“Call me Lucca, please,” he requested pleasantly. “As far as what information I was given, I know that you were in an abusive marriage for over three years to a man that is now, thankfully, deceased. I know he hospitalized you at least once…”
“Three times,” I corrected huskily, grimacing at the remembered pain for those hospital stays.
“Pardon?” he growled, his dark eyes narrowing ominously.