Excusing myself, I stand to go to the bathroom and with the alcohol overtaking my rationality; I intend to hobble barefoot as I have no choice. Taking a few steps, Jackson sweeps me up and carries me. “You might step on glass. I’ll wait outside for you,” he says.
I’m too sore and tipsy to protest. One of his bodyguards watches us from outside the booth then moves over to stand next to him. He places me down in front of the bathroom. Thanking him, I smooth out the bottom of my dress then go inside. Exiting after quickly drying my hands, he’s waiting on me and sweeps me off my feet again before the door even closes.
He only manages to get two long strides towards the booth when flashing lights stop him in his track and he tilts his head downwards and turns around. Someone is taking photographs of us.
Oh shit.
Gasping, I instinctively close my eyes, turning my head away, covering my face with my hair. His body tenses at being photographed, yet he still doesn’t put me down. I can’t look up. I’m too ashamed but his bodyguard has intervened and confiscated the phone from the person taking the pictures. The flash is a trigger for my anxiety and sends me into a panic, my worst fears resurrected. Being photographed. Hazel must be walking towards the bathroom or coming to get me and stops in her tracks to witness the whole thing because I can hear her squawking.
“What the hell is going on?” Hazel screeches.
It’s the voice objecting and whining about the phone that penetrates through me, turning my stomach and forcing me to pry my eyes wide open. I’m angry and in no way surprised.
“Does Lucca know you’re whoring about with a footballer behind his back? I’m sure he’d love this. I knew you were a dishonest little slut.”
Kimberley!
Stunned.
Shocked.
Soured.
“That’s enough,” Jackson snaps.
“Kimberley, I have nothing to say to you.” I can almost taste blood because I’ve bitten my inside lip so hard with rage.
The bodyguard grabs her arm pulling her into the booth we were using to avoid unwanted attention. Jackson follows him in and sets me on the sofa, and Hazel also joins us, standing next to me with hand on hip.
“Please leave. I don’t want to speak to you,” I say to Kimberley.
“You heard the good lady, if you do not go, we will escort you off the premises.” I’m now thankful for the intervention and assistance from security in moments like this.
“Not until we have a little chat.” She is smarmy and devious, even her deceitful voice sickens me.
“I’ve nothing I want to say to you Kimberley.” My tone scathing.
“You heard her, Kimberley, why don’t you just piss off. No one likes you and you’re like a fucking rash we can’t get rid of,” Hazel adds.
“You’re worried because I’ve caught you cheating on Lucca?” She scoffs pointing at me, completely ignoring Hazel.
I’m ablaze with fury and heat and intend to lash back at her. I’m not taking any of her nonsense. I’m so enraged that I could spit venom on her and singe her with it too.
“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not cheating on Lucca, and I never would. Jackson happens to be a friend, and he’s carrying me because I have an ankle injury. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“I knew it all along. You’re just a money grabbing slut. Now you’re after his money too
and
apparently fame. Typical. Lucca doesn’t deserve this.” She lifts her chin and flicks her hair over her shoulder.
I practically jump up out my seat ready to launch myself at her until Hazel and Jackson both grab an arm holding me back. “You’re an evil, spiteful, jealous little girl, Kimberley. I don’t appreciate your fucking meddling in our lives. I’ve had to have twenty-four hour security protection because of you and your petulant sinister twisted fucking games. You’ll never get away with it, and Lucca will make sure your resume will be so tarnished you’ll never get another decent job!” I shout.
“Is that what he told you? I happen to know different.” She smirks then laughs. I want to wipe that smirk right off her face.
My body temperature rises, my head pounds, and my heart thunders out of control. She’s lying to provoke me. Jesus, I don’t think I can hold back.
Blazing.
Hot blistering fire.
Deep inside.
“Kimberley, you’ve got three fucking seconds before I drag you out myself!” Hazel barks.
“Alright, you asked for it. I’ve done some meddling, and it turns out your past has come back to haunt you. I don’t need to waste my time hating you because apparently I’m not the only one who despises you.” She smiles, being very aloof.
“I don’t have time for your shit,” I hiss. Pulling my arms free and shaking my head, I pick my clutch up and my shoes in the other hand and turn to leave.
“Does the name Michael Parks mean anything to you?” I freeze, completely shocked, offended, and scandalised she even knows about him. I almost choke, holding my breath far too long.
No words.
No words.
No words.
“It appears he’s got unfinished business and is in the UK, looking for you coincidently.” She smacks her bitchy lips satisfied with her attempt to break me.
She has.
I’m broken.
“You fucking lying little bitch,” Hazel spits. Losing all sense of awareness, the blood rushes from my head. I can’t take it. I can’t process it. I can’t breathe.
Air, air, need air.
“Why do you think you need security? He’s back to harm you. To take you or something. I don’t fucking know why, but I know that’s why you have security. I’m the least of your worries.” She speaks fast, trying to get her piece in before she’s thrown out. I haven’t turned around but I sense her approach me, she puts her hand on my shoulder to get my attention before someone drags her sorry ass back.
Hazel.
Time seems to stand still; the quarrelling chaos behind me is nothing but a muffled echo which I’ve zoned out of. The shock has traumatised me. Blood thrums in my ears, jaw slack and eyes glossed over.
Staggering out of the booth in slow motion, barely breathing, I think I’m hallucinating when familiar azure blue eyes are drawing me closer amidst the bustling crowds. Seizing me. Owning me. Lucca’s azure blue eyes have locked on me. He’s sprinting towards me.
Is it him?
It can’t be.
I want it to be him.
I need it to be him.
My head spins.
I drop my clutch and shoes, forgoing filling my lungs with oxygen. My legs give way, every muscle in my body limp, and I’m consumed by dizziness, haziness. What is happening?
“Lexi, baby, Jesus, Lexi … Fuck!”
“LUCCA?” I cry just before collapsing on my knees. In a swift move he has me lifted in his protective arms.
I hold tight. I hold tighter than I ever have before.
My head’s spinning and I don’t want to open my eyes. Seconds later, I flutter my eyelashes under the reflecting bright lights of the booth, still wrapped tight in Lucca’s arms on the sofa, and wonder if I’m hallucinating or if I’ve been drugged. I need this to be real, to feel him and nothing else.
I NEED HIM.
I inhale his masculine, sexy scent—the familiar scent that intoxicated me the first time I met him. I press into his muscular body, burying my head deeper against him, feeling his hot breath on my neck, and the realisation that it’s him causes tears to flow down my cheeks.
“Fuck, Lexi. Are you okay, sweetheart? Tell me you are okay.”
It’s him.
My Lucca.
My love.
The love.
L’amore.
I can’t speak yet because I’m so upset, but I dig my fingers into him to acknowledge I’m relieved to be in his arms. There is talking and commotion behind me but I zone out. I focus on the beating of Lucca’s heart. I imagine it’s him and our heartbeats still in time. I don’t even know how much time has elapsed.
“Shit. Why is she not speaking? Talk to me, Doc,” he begs, kissing the side of my head repeatedly.
“She’s in shock. She’s chalk white,” Hazel says, sitting beside us on the sofa, pouring me water and holding the glass in front of me. I’m numb, frozen, and iced over, blood running cold. I stare at the glass but can’t quite manoeuvre my hands to reach for it, so she sets it back down.
Without moving my head, I can hear Lucy, Sam, Carrie, and Jess chirping and asking what’s going on. Hazel must have brought them in. Then I remember why I’m here in the first place.
Oh God.
I wonder what I’ve missed if there will be a blood bath when Lucca takes out Jackson. Lucca takes my face in both hands and drops his head, his lips marrying to mine.
Sweetly.
Tenderly.
Lovingly.
I close my eyes when his soft lips meet mine, remembering just how much I’ve missed this. My lips quiver and I tremble. He holds his lips on mine, breathing heavy, the hot air from his nostrils warming my upper lip and nose. I inwardly murmur, not sure whether he can hear me.
Kiss.
Kiss.
Kiss.
His soft lips have me feeling extremely helpless and needy, and for a brief moment the fright and astonishment I’m feeling subsides and it’s this small touch from him that temporarily diminishes my fear.
No fear.
Just this.
Just him.
He’s gasping when he slowly pulls his lips back then leans in again to repeat his touch, and this time my murmur is more of a whimper.
“Lexi, speak to me,” he whispers against my top lip. I say the only word I can form.
“Kimberley?”
“Do not worry, she has been taken care of. She is gone. I’ll deal with her tomorrow,” he presses his forehead against mine then gently rubs the pad of his thumb under my eyes.
“I’ll have my driver take you girls home when you’re ready to leave.” It’s Jackson’s voice. I don’t understand. He’s still here?
Alive?
Why? I thought Lucca would have asked him to leave.
“Thank you, buddy,” Lucca replies. It’s the familiar trauma causing me disbelief. Why is Lucca being reasonable with him?
“Lucca?” I snivel.
“I am here, I am here,” he comforts me.
“Is it true?” I force a whisper with minimal emotion.
He looks directly into my eyes with pain and anguish. He’s hurting for me. He doesn’t need to answer because his eyes have already confirmed everything. We have a silent conversation with only our eyes.
I plead.
He apologises.
No longer bright. His insipid azures narrow into my murky brown eyes. I’m revealing to him I’m scared, and he articulates he knows but he’s here and will protect me. Blinking slowly, I express my love for him.
Our love.
The love.
L’amore.
We understand each other just fine.
Silent eloquence
.
“I am taking her somewhere private. I need to speak with Lexi alone. Jackson, mate, thanks for your help tonight. On this occasion, I am appreciative that you were here with her and she was not alone. Hazel, call Cameron and explain what has happened. Get him to phone Marco and Lloyd. Girls, I will get her to call you tomorrow. She is going to be fine. No one will get near her or harm her. I have her.” He rocks me gently, bundling his hands in my hair, holding me tightly.
I draw in a deep breath of air, my bottom lip quivering; unaware I’m shivering and shaking.
“Baby, I have got you,” he whispers in my ear. Kissing my cheek softly, moving my hair behind my ears, he lifts my arms and places them in his suit jacket wrapping it around my body to warm me.
He stands up with me, adjusting his arms. I don’t care where I am or whose company I’m in. I clutch on with all my strength. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and bury my face into the crook of his neck. He kisses the side of my head, holding the top of my back and my ass under the round skirt of my dress.
“Girls, can you take her shoes and bag for her?”
I feel many light hands stroke my back; it’s the caring touch of my girls … my darlin’s … then a warm, more masculine hand on my shoulder. “Alexis, I’m sorry. If there is anything I can do to help, I will. You’re in good hands. Lucca will take excellent care of you I’m sure.” Jackson doesn’t sound as carefree as before. He must be shocked with tonight’s revelations and drama.
I’ve ruined his night.
I can’t worry about Jackson or what he thinks.
Lucca is my priority and he’s all the matters.
I hear Jackson’s voice, concerned and etched with uncertainty, but I’m too numb too respond so I move my shoulders to confirm I heard him. Lucca whispers something to one of Jackson’s bodyguards. In a flash I’m on the move, exiting the booth. The loud music blares in my sensitive drumming ears.
Closing my eyes, I clutch onto Lucca as if my life depends on it. He treads through the crowds and down a flight of stairs, holding me wrapped around him. We walk through a corridor and he stops.
“No one comes through here, understand?” he orders.
“Yes, Mr. Caruso, of course.”
“I mean no one,” he reiterates.
“Sure,” the nervous doorman responds.
Opening my eyes, I see Lucca has opened a smoky glass door to a VIP area which is empty. It’s in the same style of upstairs with the screens of glass, running water, and silver chains hanging from the ceiling with modern white and fuchsia pink accessories and furniture. The mood lighting is dull and low in comparison to the pristine bright white booths upstairs.
He walks up to the empty bar, holding me with one arm under my ass while the other fixes me a drink of water.
“Drink this.” He sits me on the edge of the counter, still with his arm wrapped around my lower back and his chest pressed into my body. He holds the glass to my mouth. I tilt my head back, my teeth chattering against the glass, and manage to drink almost all of it.
Attentively wiping the water from my chin, he still has given me no explanation, but right now I don’t think I want one. I want him as close as I can get him. It’s the only feeling that will dissipate my fear, my anguish.
“I need to explain. I am so sorry, Lexi. I did not want to worry you. I did not want you to know. I have been out of my mind all fucking day, crazy with worry. Baby, I love you, I …”