Sold to Moretti Mafia

Lucca

I’m lying in bed, channel surfing, feeling like an asshole for not being there for Claire today. Eighteen. Another year older, but nothing has changed. I try not to let the guilt bother me. I sent her a gift and have kept every promise I ever made her. It doesn’t lessen the temptation I have to go to her every day.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

I can still recall her heart-shaped face, fractured with pain after the words I spoke to her the last time we saw each other. I broke her heart. No, I didn’t just break it, I stomped it into the ground and encased the remains in concrete.

My phone rings on the nightstand, and I drop the remote on the mattress and grab it. I’m surprised to see Carter’s name flash across my screen, mainly since I talked to him earlier, and he said they were going to be doing cake and ice cream with Tracy and Steven. Maybe something else happened.

I hit the green key and bring the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

“Look, don’t get mad, Lucca, but…” Carter’s panicked voice fills my ear, but it isn’t his words that are alarming to me. It’s the loud noise in the background. It sounds like he’s at a nightclub, but surely that can’t be right because he wouldn’t dare go to a nightclub with Claire. Not if he values his life.

“What the fuck is going on?” I growl.

“I’m sorry, okay? I messed up. I got Claire a fake ID for her birthday, hoping we could go out and have some fun. I didn’t want to tell you because I figured I could handle it, but it’s gotten out of hand.”

“What do you mean, it’s gotten out of hand?” The words grate through my teeth. “I swear to god if Claire is hurt or if something has happened to her, you will wish you were dead.”

“She’s okay, mostly…” There is cheering in the background, and I’m frantic to know what the fuck is going on. “I didn’t think she would drink this much, but she’s drunk, Lucca, and she’s making out with guys. I don’t know what to do. I tried to get her out of here, but she called the fucking bouncer on me.”

Making out with guys? Drunk? A vein bulges in my neck. I want to fucking slaughter someone and watch them bleed out. Another fucker is kissing her, touching her, and she’s too out of it to care, too out of it to make a rational choice.

“Where are you?” I’m already out of bed and grabbing my keys and wallet from the dresser before he answers.

“Houdin’s.”

“Why the fuck-” I shake my head, stopping mid-sentence. “Don’t answer that. I’ll be there soon. Don’t let her out of your sights, and if something happens to her…” My jaw aches as I clench it.

“I know, you’ll string me up by my intestines and feed me my own shit.”

I don’t even reply. I’ve trained him well, and he knows he’s going to get his ass kicked for this little stunt. It doesn’t matter if Claire put him up to it or not. He should’ve known better.

* * *

I break every fucking speed limit and run three red lights to get to the club. The adrenaline pumping through my veins has all my focus on Claire. My only thought is to get to her and make sure she is okay, which I won’t believe until she is right in front of me, and I can visibly see her.

When I’m five minutes away, I text Carter, telling him to meet me outside. The last thing I need is for Claire to make a scene and for me to have to kick someone’s ass. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ve been doing a good job staying under wraps, and all that could be blown to shit if I have to fuck someone up.

As soon as the club’s neon sign comes into view, I pull into the nearest parking spot on the street. I park the car and notice that there’s a line wrapped around the building of waiting patrons. I can’t fucking believe Carter got her a fake ID. I’m almost at the mouth of the building when the door flies open, and Carter comes walking out with a very intoxicated Claire hanging off his arm.

Pausing mid-step, all I can do is stare. My chest tightens. The cold organ in my chest thumps loudly in my ears. Two years have passed, and though she looks the same with her delicate nose and pert little mouth, she doesn’t.

The last time I saw her, she was nothing but a budding flower reaching for the sun, but now she is in full bloom. The tight mini dress hugs her feminine curves perfectly and doesn’t help to lessen her appealing appearance.

Instantly, she’s no longer the little girl I knew her to be, but a young woman who has grown into her body. A woman I want to touch, possess, and explore. I force my hands to remain at my sides. I won’t, can’t, touch her. After breaking her heart and telling her I would only ever see her as a child, to show any type of attraction would only lead to more heartache. I’m not what she needs, but everything she should stay away from.

Her green eyes widen with surprise first, flames of fury flicker in their depths. Oh, if she thinks she hates me now, she’s really going to hate me once the night is over.

“Serioussslyyy, Carter?” Claire slurs and turns her head to peer up at him.

“Don’t blame me. I asked you when we started this night if you wanted to remember it, and you said no.”

Claire frowns, and even in sadness, she is still beautiful. “You had to call him, though.” She shoves her finger in my direction. If I wasn’t so pissed off over the shenanigans of these two, I might laugh, but all I can picture is something happening to Claire. Some fucker taking advantage of her or slipping something into her drink. The mere thought of something happening makes me insane.

“I’ll take her, and you can follow behind in your car,” I tell Carter without looking at him. He already knows I want to punch him in the face, but I’ll save the violence for later when Claire isn’t around.

He nods and attempts to pass Claire off to me. She squirms like a child, huffing and puffing the entire time.

“Let me go… I hate you. I’m not going with youuu…” She tries to dig her heeled feet into the ground but only trips herself.

I lean down, my lips next to her good ear. “Stop!” Her scent invades me, fresh-picked strawberries, and summer. Her soft body molds into mine.

“No, you stop. Stop pretending you care.”

I can hear the raw emotion in her voice, and the sadness seeps into my pores. Yes, I’m an asshole for hurting her, for pushing her away, but I only did it to protect her. Everything I do is to protect her and keep her safe. Why can’t she see that?

“Stop acting like a child,” I growl and tighten my hold on her.

“You stop! You overbearinggg-douchebagish-assholeeee prick!” Each word becomes louder and more slurred than the next as I drag her further away from the club.

By the time we reach the car, she is flopping around like a fish out of water. Her fight, if you could call it that, doesn’t bother me.

In fact, it has the opposite effect. My cock hasn’t been this hard in, well, a long fucking time, and it’s all because of the little temptress struggling to get away.

“Lucca,” my name rolls off her tongue, “I’ll screammm.”

Her struggle intensifies, her limbs flail, and out of nowhere, her elbow connects with my face. Pain radiates up my nose, and all I can do is react. Twisting her in my arms, I grab her by the throat and press her against the car.

She hasn’t even seen a sliver of what I’m capable of, but she’s about to.

My fingers squeeze the tender flesh in warning. Shock overtakes her features, and her glossy, red-rimmed eyes fill with fear.

I hate knowing I put that fear there, but I’m done with her shit right now.

“You think I care if you scream? I’m not afraid of the cops. Scream, Claire, scream at the top of your lungs. Nobody’s listening. No one cares.” My lip curls. “That’s exactly why I do what I do, so you don’t have to scream for help in some fucking alleyway.” I release my hold on her throat and take a step back, even though all I want to do is kiss the skin there. To feel her thundering pulse beneath my lips. Something flashes in her eyes, and in this moment, I can’t tell if it’s fear or something else. Is she still harboring feelings? God, I hope not.

“Now, stop being a brat and get in the car,” I snap. The tone of my voice makes her jump.

Whirling around on her heels, she almost tumbles to the concrete, but her tiny hand grabs the door handle of the SUV just in time to balance herself.

“I hate you… you’re nothing. You ass. Go away… you’re dumb.”

I have to piece her sentence together to make out what she’s saying.

“Good, you can hate me some more by getting into the car.”

She tugs the door open and jumps into the seat. “I don’t like you.”