Chapter 241: Same Old Story
- LUCIANO -
If only Rory and I could stay in this bedroom forever, ordering food in and hiding from everything else—all the dangers and responsibilities. But unfortunately it doesn’t work that way.
Rather than grabbing my phone to see whose calls I missed, I turn on my side to face her again. Maybe we can prolong this time together just a little bit more before we emerge and face the rest of what awaits us today. The only thing that seems important right now is here, right in front of me.
Rory smiles back at me. She’s always beautiful, but right now she’s absolutely breathtaking. There’s a gentle glow to her skin. Her dark blue eyes are shining. And I get to be the recipient of all of it.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks, gaze sweeping over me.
"How beautiful you are."
She shakes her head with a soft smile.
"Can I ask you something?" My hand rises to trace the line of her jaw and then drops. Maybe it would be a mistake to ask her the question that I’ve had on my mind. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
"What?" Her voice is almost a whisper.
When there are no other sounds but our breath, whispers are all that are needed. It feels like a secret—the two of us here. But I want everyone to know. I’m so proud of this woman in front of me, I can’t wait to have her on my arm, a constant companion by my side.
But after what we just shared and the fear that gripped her before she was able to move on, I want to know what happened in her past—what traumatized her. I’m not certain whether she trusts me enough or feels comfortable enough to talk about it, though. So it’s a risk bringing it up. Maybe it’s not the right time.
"What is it, Luci?" She asks again.
"I was wondering," I sigh, grabbing one of her hands and squeezing it, "how were you hurt, tesoro? Can you tell me?"
"Why?" Her brows thread together.
"So I can help," I say gently. "So I know when to go slow and what not to do."
And so I can hunt the fucker down who hurt her and kill him slowly and painfully.
Rory’s breaths become shallow as she searches the space between us, contemplating whether or not she’s going to let me in on this delicate information.
"It’s hard to talk about," she says finally.
"I understand."
I don’t press her on it, just wait patiently—praying to God that no one decides to call me right now and interrupt in case she does want to tell me.
"I was fourteen. I was home alone," she says quietly, avoiding my eyes. "Raya was at a friend’s house. Nana had an appointment or something."
She wets her lips, struggling with putting herself back in that memory. I don’t want her to, but this is how we move past it. This is how we heal.
"There was a neighbor boy. He was older. Raya and I thought he was so cool. He was cute, you know." She grimaces. "He knocked on the door, asked if he could come in. He wasn’t exactly a stranger, so I didn’t think it was a big deal, plus... he wanted to talk to me. I thought that meant I was pretty special."
She lets out a shaky breath and glances up. The child in her eyes stares back at me so helpless and embarrassed by this mistake she made so many years ago, clearly believing that the whole thing was her fault for letting him inside, for trusting what she thought she knew of him. And I have to work to keep a gentle expression when the fire in my chest burns furiously, wanting to slip back into that memory with her and help.
"Our living room with the television and everything was downstairs, so we ended up down there. He started talking about things that made me uncomfortable, but I was just kind of laughing about it. That’s what I would do when I was nervous. In the moment, you don’t understand the reality of it. It’s like it’s not really happening. I’ve thought about it so many times, what I could have done differently. But when he advanced on me, bent me over the couch, I just... froze."
Her expression darkens as the reel in her mind advances, and my teeth clench and lock—biting down on the emotions that want to spill out. It doesn’t matter how I feel, because this isn’t about me. But god, do I want to fucking punish someone for this.
"It’s the same old story, you know? It’s happened to so many people. So many kids. I’m not special," she says, shrugging it off. "But he said he would kill my sister if I told anyone, so I didn’t. Raya doesn’t know that part." Her eyes flare with the secret, urging me not to tell.
"I hid it for awhile. Until it became too much. And by that time, there was no way to prove it. I thought I had mostly moved past it, but then the whole Lawson thing happened."
"You are so brave, tesoro," I tell her, cupping her face in my hand, bending to kiss her, pressing my forehead to hers. "Thank you for trusting me with this."
"Thank you for being someone I can trust with this," she whispers, reaching up to place her hand over mine. "I don’t want to be trapped in that memory anymore."
"I’m here for whatever you need. To talk. To hurt in your place. To make wild, passionate love to," I chuckle, and she joins me, her eyes shining again.
"I wanted to go hiking here," she says with a smile. "I thought if I could go out where there was no one else around, then maybe I could finally let it all out. Scream. Cry. Yell at the top of my lungs. Whatever."
"We can do that, too." I run my hand down her side, drawing her closer.
"Really?" Her brows shoot up. "You would want to do that?"
"Why are you surprised? If you want to, I’m in."
"What about... your men?" She frowns, gaze dropping to my lips. So I kiss her, pinching her chin when I pull away.
"I’m sure we can figure out something."
