Page 60 of Ruthless Truths
26
OLIVIA
Getting back to the apartment, both Luca and I covered in paint and doing my best not to leave any marks in our trail, isn’t an easy feat, but we manage for the most part, and the first place I head is the shower. I expect Luca to join me after he orders dinner so I can properly thank him for the garden, but as the minutes tick by, my stomach begins to churn.
As soon as all the paint has been scrubbed from my body and hair, I’m out of the shower and rushing into the bedroom, still dripping with water even though the towel is wrapped around me.
Luca is talking on the phone and pacing the room. His voice is low, and his shoulders are tight with tension. I can’t make out the words he’s saying with how far away he is, but I already know something is wrong.
He spots me and seems to hang up the phone as he demands, “You need to get dressed.”
I follow him toward the closet where he’s heading instead of doing as I’m told. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“People are trying to break into the compound,” he says sharply. “I need to go make sure that doesn’t happen, but you need to be ready to leave in case it does.”
Fear swells inside me, and I freeze, standing in his way as he attempts to change his clothes. He grabs my shoulders and squeezes hard. “I need you to do as I say, Raven. Right the fuck now.”
His words pierce through my fog, but I still don’t move. “Why are people breaking in?”
Luca briefly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “There’s a bounty on you. They’re here to collect.”
One would think that seeing a dead senator, being shot at, then locked in an underground cell, followed by someone trying to violate me and possibly kill me would be the worst kind of terror I could be consumed with. Yet, hearing those words leave Luca’s lips, knowing that the threat on my life is more than real, it’s right here at the compound…has spots flickering at the edge of my vision and me ready to pass out.
Luca grips my chin between his fingers and lifts my face up toward his. I think he’s going to yell at me for not listening still, but he surprises me by roughly placing his lips on my forehead. “I need to know that you’re going to be okay if I leave this room, Raven. Can you get dressed and be ready to run if I tell you to? Can you do that for me?”
Mother fuck fuck.
I want to tell him no and beg him not to leave me, but I don’t. Instead, I force myself to nod and step away from him. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
I’m not entirely sure that’s true, but what I do know is that the longer Luca is up here with me, the more likely whoever is trying to break in is going to succeed. I need him to do what he does best while I figure out a way to keep my shit together.
He goes back to grabbing what he needs from his closet, and I go to my dresser, dropping my towel and moving on autopilot as I select jeans, socks, underwear, and a plain black tee to wear.
By the time I have everything but the shirt on, Luca is already dressed in black cargo pants with a white t-shirt underneath a bulletproof vest and a gun at his hip, secured in a holster.
I swallow hard. This is actually fucking happening. This is real life right now. The moment in the garden, the peace I lost myself to all afternoon, that was fiction. A lie to make the reality more manageable. In this moment, nothing ismanageable.
Luca grips the back of my neck tightly. “You won’t leave this room. The door will be locked, and the shock factor I told you about earlier? That will be on,” he warns, staring hard into my frightened eyes. “The shutters are still down from earlier and nothing will penetrate them. You’re safe in here, Raven.”
Those last words seem like more of a reassurance for him rather than me.
“But I still need to be ready to run?” I ask, because that seems rather important to know before he leaves.
“Yes,” he replies as his phone vibrates loudly in his pocket. “Justine isn’t home, or she’d be here with you. I’ll get you out of here just as soon as I can do so safely. I promise.”
I nod and try to stay strong since that seems to be what he needs to see before he rushes out of here.
With one more look at me, he finally tears himself away and storms toward the front door. I watch from the bedroom as he jerks on the door, then glances back one last time.
There’s no shared smile between us, no kisses blown to one another, no whispers of further promises. The hard lines of his face instead remind me of how serious this situation has quickly become, and when he slams the door shut and I hear the lock engage, I run back for the room to finish dressing so I can do as I’ve told him I would: be ready to run.
It only takes three minutes for me to finish, including putting on proper shoes and twisting my wet hair into a bun so that it’s not a hazard, given I don’t want to waste time doing anything else with it.
When I enter the living room where I’ve left not only my phone, but the painting Luca made, I try not to scream in frustration at the turn of events. I grab my phone and see more than a dozen missed calls and texts from Justine.
I call her back as I stand by the bar, staring at the door that I’m not allowed to touch. “Fuck, Olivia. Answer your damn phone when there are people trying to kill you.”
Justine’s loud words boom through the speaker and right into my ear. “I was busy being told what to do.”