He starts to shake his head, then stops with a pained wince. “No, but a while, I think. Long enough for him to… Long enough. My head is killing me. It just keeps getting worse.”
“Sit down, please,” I whisper.
He takes a seat on the white leather couch, and I sit down beside him. “I think you need to go to the emergency room.”
“No. It’s not that bad.”
I almost scoff. Not that bad? “Luc, have you seen yourself?”
He doesn’t move his gaze from the floor. “Well, no.”
Fuck. I hold a hand out, palm up. Luca’s eyes snap to it, then he slowly laces his fingers through mine. “It’s bad, Luca. The whites of your eyes aren’t even white. They’re blood-red. That motherfucker caused subconjunctival hemorrhaging. Between that, the bruising around your throat, the busted blood vessels around your eyes, losing consciousness, and your headache? You need medical attention. Can you please look at me?”
He takes a deep breath, then lifts his gray eyes to mine. I remember thinking his eyes were so cool when we were kids, and I think I’d do just about anything to be seeing them in their usual bright and happy state instead of… this. “Please let me take you to the hospital, okay?”
He hesitates so long I’m sure he’s going to tell me no, but then he sighs. “Okay. Then you’ll take me home?”
Relief floods me. I didn’t feel comfortable at all taking him on a plane until he got checked out. “Yes, and then I’ll take you home. You know that’smyhome, right?”
“I know. I… I don’t think I can afford a plane ticket, though. Everything is Damien’s.” There’s so much shame in his voice that it makes my heart stutter in my chest.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of the plane ticket, okay? I’ll order another ride. Do you have a bag or something you can pack your things in?”
“Yeah,” he whispers, then he’s standing and leaving the living room. I’m not sure what I should be doing, but I’m not too keen to leave him alone, so I follow him.
The bedroom is more of the same cold, sterile bullshit as the rest of the house. While Luca pulls out a small duffel bag and starts tossing random clothes into it, I get the car ordered. “Ride will be here in ten minutes. Do you have everything you need?”
Luca’s eyes snap to mine. “I’m not sure. I’m not even sure I should be going with you. If I think about it too hard, I’ll tell you to leave me here, so I’m trying not to think.” Well, fuck. That’s not happening if I have anything to say about it. Luca grabs a phone charger, shoving it into his bag. “I’m ready.”
“I’m not sure that you should take your phone, Luc,” I say gently. “What if he can track you with it?”
His face goes pale. “I—I didn’t think about that…” He frowns, his eyes falling to the unmade bed in front of him. “This is stupid.I’mstupid. This is my home. This is my future. I can’t leave. Ican’t—”
“Luca.” I cut him off. “Look at me.” Wide gray eyes find mine. “Come here, please.”
He makes his way slowly across the room, a hint of distrust shining in his gaze. That breaks my heart. I need to be more careful in how I interact with him; that much is clear. “I won’t hurt you, Luc. Never. I know you maybe don’t trust that right now, but I never would.”
He doesn’t respond, and that’s okay. I don’t need him to. I’ll remind him as many times as it takes, but more than that, I’llshowhim. I hold my hand out to him and wait for him to take it. It takes him even less time than it did in the living room, and once he’s tucked his hand into mine, I lead him across the room to the mirror hanging on the wall.
I carefully turn him until he’s facing the mirror.
He knows what I want without me even saying anything, but it takes a second for him to lift his eyes. When he finally does, he stares at himself like he’s seeing a stranger.
It’s heartbreaking.
Watching him lean closer, watching the way he touches the delicate skin around his eyes that’s red and purple from his busted blood vessels. The way he turns his head back and forth, focusing on his eyes where there is only red where there should be white. “Fuck,” he breathes. He touches his lower lip carefully, then turns his head, ghosting his fingertips over his throat. The dark, ugly, finger-shaped bruises on his throat have anger and heartache swelling inside me. “I thought he was going to kill me,” Luca whispers.
“Luca.” He drags his gaze from his reflection to look at me. “I’m not sure that you’llhavea future if you stay here. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to cry or rage or scream, but I can’t leave you here. You can’t stay here, and I think you know that. You wouldn’t havecalled me if some part of you didn’t already know that.”
He hangs his head in shame. “I know.”
“Let’s get you out of here, okay? Please. I’ll get you a new phone, I promise.”
“Okay,” he whispers. He reaches for his bag, but I pick it up before he can. He leaves his phone on his pillow, takes a single look around the room, inhales a deep breath, and leads me outside.
Chapter 5
Austin
