Pulling my face away from his hand, I broke eye contact. “I’m exhausted, and I’d like to get cleaned up and go to bed now. I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“I can help you.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want you in here.”
“At least let me make sure none of your injuries are serious.”
“They’re not,” I told him. “I’ve had much worse.” From my father, for one. “I just want you to go.”
I felt his stare, heavy and hot, and I fully expected him to argue with me or just do whatever he wanted to do with me anyway. But to my surprise, after a long pause, he stepped back. “I’ll be in the next room. If you change your mind, or you need anything at all, just call out.”
“I won’t,” I told him, lifting my eyes back to his face.
After a moment, he went into the closet and returned with a few items of clothes. “I’ll be in the next room,” he repeated. Then he turned on his heel and left, closing the door behind him.
As soon as the door was closed, I rose painfully to my feet and hobbled into the bathroom. Sitting for so long had left me feeling stiff. Bending over to turn on the bath water made my breath catch and tears fill my eyes, but I managed. Carefully, I removed Enzo’s jacket and Luigi’s shirt, wishing I could burn them both.
I was glad Luigi was dead. Tomorrow I would worry about the consequences of what Enzo had done, but for right now, I just wanted to soak in the bath and then go to bed.
Gathering the barely-there material of the nightgown in my hands, I tried to lift it up over my head. Burning pain shot across my right shoulder blade where the belt had torn into my skin. I gasped, dropping my arms again, and changed tactics. But the material wasn’t stretchy enough to slide it off my shoulders easily.
I started opening and closing drawers, looking for a knife, a razor blade, anything I could use to cut the damn thing off of me. When I couldn’t find anything, I tried to rip it, but I wasn’t strong enough.
Tears streamed down my face. I had to get this damn thing off. I couldn’t stand the feel of it on my skin anymore. I moved to the other side of the sink and started yanking open more drawers, pulling so hard one came completely out and fell onto the floor with a crash. My head jerked up, and I caught my reflection in the large mirror over the sink—a crazy woman with makeup running down her face in streaks, exposing a black eye, and red welts forming on her shoulders.
In a fucking black, see-through nightgown. A nightgown I was beaten in, and no doubt would’ve been raped in.
Opening my mouth, I screamed at the woman in the mirror, my hands tugging at the gown and then at my hair when I couldn’t get it off.
The bathroom door flew open so fast it slammed into the wall behind it and Enzo was there, forcing my hands out of my hair and taking me into his strong arms. I couldn’t move, which meant I couldn’t get out of this damned nightgown. “Get it off!” I yelled, crazy now. “Get it the fuck off of me!”
Enzo didn’t hesitate. His strong hands gripped the neckline at my back and tugged. I sobbed with relief when the material gave. He tore it from me like it was soaked in acid, and I heard his soft curse as it fell to the floor at my feet. Looking up, I saw his eyes on the mirror behind me. He was staring at my back, and judging by the pain I felt, I could imagine what he saw. Though he practically vibrated with rage, his voice was low and controlled when he told me, “I’m not leaving. So tell me what you’re trying to do.”
I was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to argue with him. “Take a bath and go to sleep.Alone,” I added. Pushing him away from me, I crossed my arms over my naked breasts. I wouldn’t look at him. If I did, he would see the conflict in my eyes. Because a part of me—the part that was hurt and fed up and done with his shit—couldn’t stand the feel of his hands. But the other part of me just wanted to fall into his arms and allow him to take care of me. To love me. Even if it was only a pretense.
I felt his eyes burning into my bare skin on my shoulders, my stomach, and lower. “Okay.” His voice was deep and husky. “We can do that. And I’m helping you.”
“I don’t need your help now that that stupid thing is off.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad, Sera, because you’re getting it.”
CHAPTER8
Enzo
The soft, tender skin of Sera’s back was red, and welts had risen where Luigi’s belt had struck her, mostly on her right side, from her shoulder blade down to her hip. And since I’d already killed the man responsible, all I could do was stand there and vibrate with rage that anyone would do this to her. He had no fucking right. Sera was not his. And the only thing that made me feel the slightest bit better was knowing that now she never would be.
With effort, I tore my eyes away from her abused skin. The water in the tub was getting too high, so I walked over and shut it off. Then I found some Epsom salts under the sink and poured some into the hot water. There were no open wounds on her that I saw, just bruised skin with raised welts, so it should be okay. When I was done, I held out my hand. “Come on.”
She eyed it like I was holding a snake poised to strike, and as the light struck her face just right, I thought I saw purplish bruising around her eye. After a moment, she took my hand and allowed me to help her into the bath. Carefully, she lowered herself into the tub, letting out a hiss when the water touched her back.
“Is it too hot?”
“No.” She shook her head and eased herself further down into the tub until she was fully submerged. “Is Luca angry with me for stealing his father’s phone?”
“No,” I told her. “Not at all. We’re hoping there will be something on it that will help us justify his murder and clear your name.”
My cock swelled watching the water dance over her bare breasts, but I ignored it. I wasn’t a total monster. Walking over to the medicine cabinet, I grabbed her a couple of Advil and the bottled water Lisa always left on the bathroom counter.
