Chapter Nineteen
Luca
I wake on my bed, fully clothed. I don’t remember going to bed at all. In fact, I remember very little from the time that I finished up a conference call and had a nightcap in my study until now. My heart beats fast although I’m no stranger to a foggy memory.
I lie still for a bit, trying to clear my thoughts, to let the sleep fall away. As I do, I catch a whiff of sex.
What the fuck?
I lift my hands to my face and inhale.
Sex.
This jerks me wide awake and I quickly sit up, trying to remember the events from last night. But my memories are a frustrating fog.
I vaguely remember walking from the study down the hall toward my bedroom, but it’s a blur from there. When my curse comes, I usually remember everything up until the moment that the darkness overtakes me. I don’t remember anything of the sort from last night.
Nothing at all.
Something isn’t right. Am I changing? Is this what happens as I get older? The frequency of my episodes becomes higher and I don’t remember anything?
My head drops into my hands.
What did I do last night? What the fuck did I do?
There’s no way of knowing. My heart sinks as I come to that realization. I won’t know unless I’ve done something and gotten caught. And at this point, being captured would almost be a relief, a welcome end to the constant anxiety and stress that I have been feeling for so long.
For years, my curse has been controlled. It is only now, this year, that episodes have come on so quickly and without warning that I’m not able to get home in time. And that is why I have recently made the decision that I simply won’t leave Chessarae. Not unless it is very, very necessary. The people in Valletta thought I was a recluse before. They’ll surely think so now.
I swing my legs out of bed and make my way into the shower, allowing the hot, steamy water to run over me for at least a half hour. It feels as though I’m washing away the unknown and to be honest, it is a very good feeling.
I convince myself that if I don’t remember anything, then there probably isn’t anything to remember. I more than likely finished my nightcap and fell immediately to sleep. I turn off the water and grab a towel, running it over my hair and stepping back into my bedroom.
As I do, I am startled to find that I am not alone.
Evangeline sits on my bed, fully dressed. She looks pensive, as though she isn’t sure what to think. And then she turns to meet my gaze. She doesn’t seem embarrassed at all that to find that I am stark naked. I quickly wrap the towel around my waist.
“Yes?” I ask her. I try to appear unnerved, as though it is completely normal to find a beautiful woman in my bedroom. “Can I help you with something, Evangeline?”
She was expecting me to say something else. I can tell. Her face is expectant, then it clouds over with my words. She opens her mouth and then closes it.
“Evangeline?” I prompt. “Do you need something from me?”
I cross the room quickly, pulling out a shirt from my wardrobe. I pull it on over my head and as I do, the towel drops to the ground exposing every bit of my manhood to her.
“Shit,” I mutter, turning away. Instead of picking up the towel, I pull on a pair of underwear and then a pair of slacks. When I am dressed, I turn back to Evangeline and smile.
“Okay. This should make things more comfortable.” I sit on the edge of the bed next to her and she almost flinches away. I narrow my eyes. “Dr. Talbot?”
She looks at me calmly, her gray-green eyes unflinching.
“Yes. To answer your earlier question, yes. I do need something from you, Luca. Yesterday, you said that you owed me an explanation. And after last night, I think I deserve one more than ever.”
I am frozen and can barely breathe.
“Last night?” I repeat and then stop, remembering the smell of sex on my hands.
Surely not.
Surely if I’d done something with Eva, I would remember it.
I meet her eyes, though, and I know it is true. The beautiful, delicate woman sitting before me is calm and quiet and strong. But I can see it in her eyes. I assaulted her. My head drops into my hands.
Chapter Twenty
Eva
“An explanation,” I remind Luca, as calmly as I can.
He seems upset, distraught even. I am puzzled. I’m the one who should be distraught. Whatever is making him so upset? I ask him that and he looks up at me with tortured eyes, the dark and pained expression that has caused my heart to melt more times than I can count lately. It’s particularly angst-filled today.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice pained. “For anything that I might have done last night. I’m very sorry.”
He stares at the floor as if he can’t meet my gaze.
I stare at him. “You don’t remember it?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady.
He doesn’t remember being with me at all? How insulting.
“Were you drunk?”
Luca shakes his head curtly, just one movement. He stares out his windows, his eyes so distant, as though he is wishing that he were anywhere but here. I should be furious with him, but I am intrigued instead. There is something here, something about Luca that I don’t know. I can feel it. I have felt it all along and it is time for him to share it.
Right now.
“You had sex with me,” I announce. “You came into my room and you had sex with me. It was rough and you didn’t talk to me, either before or after. After it was over, you left without a word. ”
I wait for a response.
Luca stares at the floor and I notice that his fists are clenched at his sides. His knuckles are white.
“Luca?”
He doesn’t immediately answer, but after a moment, he raises his head and his dark eyes are tortured.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. He sounds like he is forcing the words from his lips, as though they are abrasive and painful in his throat.
“You bruised my arms,” I tell him. He immediately moves closer to me and picks up an arm to examine it. I allow him, my heart breaking for the pain I see on his face. I wish I understood what was going on with him. So I tell him that.
“What is going on?” I ask. “I know things aren’t what they seem. Last night you were a different person, someone cold and distant and borderline violent. But that’s not the person that I know. That’s not the
Luca
that I know.”
I’m pleading with him. I can hear it in my voice and he can, too. I don’t want to believe it of him. And I know that he can hear that, as well.
He lets my arm fall back to my side and he closes his eyes for just a moment before he opens them again and looks me in the eye.
“Evangeline, you don’t know me at all. There are many things about me that you don’t know. But there’s one thing about me that you should. I owe that to you.”
I nod. “Okay. Tell me. I won’t judge you.”
He almost smiles, the corners of his mouth curving ever so slightly. But it isn’t a smile of humor. It’s a dark, cryptic smile. As though he knows far better than I do that I am wrong.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he tells me again. “Very, very sorry. I wish it hadn’t happened.”
I smile now. “I’m not sorry that it happened,” I tell him honestly. “A twisted side of me enjoyed it.”
His head snaps up now, his surprised gaze locked with mine.
“You enjoyed it?” he croaks. I have to smile at his expression. I shrug.
“It’s been a long time for me,” I admit. “And you’re a very handsome man, Luca. In all honesty, I’ve been attracted to you since the moment we met. Was it an ideal encounter? No. But I can’t lie and say that I’m sorry it happened.”
He’s quiet now as he assesses me. He’s probably trying to determine just how much of a freak I am. Clearly, only a freak would enjoy what happened last night. Right?
“I’m drawn to you, too,” he tells me quietly, finally. “You’re refreshingly honest. You’re such a light in the world and I am exactly the opposite. I shouldn’t be near you, I should stay far away. But I haven’t. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”
I roll my eyes.
“Oh, God. Please tell me that you’re not going to say that you’re dangerous for me and that you need to stay away from me for my own good. Please tell me those words aren’t going to come from your mouth. That’s the stuff that movies are made from. That’s not reality.”
Luca is silent, every muscle still.
“It’s
my
reality,” he tells me soberly and I can see that he is completely serious. “I’m dangerous, Evangeline. I really am. And while I would like nothing more than to explore this attraction that I feel for you, I simply can’t. And after I’m finished explaining everything, you will understand why.”
I’m uncertain now, hesitant.
“Okay,” I answer slowly. “Explain. Do you have a drug problem? Is that why you can’t remember last night?”
“Jesus, Evangeline!” he snaps. “Of course I don’t have a drug problem. Although I wish that was the case. It would be such an easy fix.”
I’m taken aback by the brusque tone to his voice, then dumbfounded to hear that he thinks drugs would be easier to overcome than whatever his problem actually is.
“I’m sorry. But a spotty memory and out of control actions can signal a drug problem. Tell me what it is, Luca. Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t help,” he says quietly, his expression dark. “No one can. And I don’t want to discuss it here. Do you trust me enough to come with me? I need to show you something so that you will believe me.”
I ponder that for a moment and to my surprise, I do find that I trust him. He might have secrets, but I can see in his eyes that he would never knowingly hurt me. Whatever last night was, it wasn’t something that he purposely did. He was out of control. He wasn’t himself.
He wasn’t himself.
I nod. “Yes. I trust you.”
He stares at me, long and hard and regretful. “I hope you don’t live to regret that.”
He stands and offers me his hand, and to my surprise, I take it. His fingers are long and strong and warm as they wrap around mine. I expect him to release it after he helps me from the bed, but he doesn’t. He holds my hand tucked inside of his as we make our way through the house, out the back doors and into the English Maze.
Chapter Twenty-One
Luca
I lead Evangeline down the secret steps into my cave. Her expression is contained and guarded. She meant what she said. She is desperately trying to withhold judgment. I respect that about her even though I know that after I am finished explaining, she will contact the authorities and I will be arrested. Surprisingly, I am numb to that. I don’t dread it at all.
I almost welcome it.
As we round the corner into the suite, Evangeline’s eyes widen.
“What the hell?” she murmurs as she takes everything in. When her gaze passes over the bed with the chains protruding from the wall, her eyes narrow.
“What the hell, Luca? You’re into kinky shit and you thought you would bring me here because you think I’m kinky, too? I’ve got news for you. I’m not. I enjoyed last night, but I’m not a sexual freak.”
She spins on her heel and starts to walk for the door, but I grab her elbow gently.
“Please wait,” I ask her. “You don’t understand. This place is for me, those chains are for me. I needed for you to see it before I tell you my story. See how elaborate this hideout is? Do you see the expense that has gone into making it safe and secluded from the rest of the world?”
Eva keeps her eyes narrowed as she nods. “I do. But I don’t see how it is relevant, Luca.”
I take a deep breath. “Can we sit? I want to explain. Would you like a glass of wine?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s 9:00 a.m., Luca.”
I shrug. “Do you?”
She levels her gaze at me. “Yes.”
I have to laugh and I get a bottle of wine and two glasses, and we sit on the couch facing each other.
“You need to talk now,” she instructs me as I hand her a glass.
I nod. I’m not sure where to begin, but I decide to just start speaking. The words begin pouring from my mouth, beginning with when I was small and first realized that I was different.
“My mother would lock me in my room,” I remember aloud. “She would bind my hands and lock me in my room until the darkness passed.”
There is horror on Evangeline’s face. “She locked you in your room? Alone?”
I nod. “She didn’t know what else to do.”
“There are many other things that she
could
have done,” Eva says drily. “What do you mean when you say ‘the darkness’?”
“The only way I can describe it is to say that everything becomes blurry and then shortly after that, I enter oblivion. I don’t know what happens or what I do. When I wake, I can remember feeling blurry and entering the blackness, but nothing after that.”
“How long has this been going on?” Evangeline asks, her voice no-nonsense and medical. She’s trying to tap into her psychiatrist self, to remain impassive and detached, but I can hear a thin strain of horror in her voice.
“All of my life,” I answer simply. “I don’t remember a time when it didn’t happen.”
“Is this why your mother thinks you are evil?” Eva asks. “Because you have blackouts? Perhaps they are seizures. Have you been examined by a doctor?”
“Yes, this is why my mother thinks that I am evil,” I tell her. “And no. I personally have not been examined. My mother would never hear of it when I was small. It would have been devastating for the family name for this to get out. You see, it doesn’t just affect me. It affects Minaldi men. My father was afflicted. His father, his father’s father and so on. My father once told me that my grandfather had gone to a doctor in desperation, but they could find nothing wrong with him. It is a medical mystery, a genetic anomaly.”