“How does it help?”
“It distracts me.” I gathered my courage. “Can you tell me more about your mother?”
“My father hit her. He raped her. I was young but I understood what was going on. She couldn’t bear my father anymore, so she decided to slice her wrists and overdose on dope.”
“She shouldn’t have let you and Matteo alone.”
“I found her.”
I jerked up and stared. “You found your mother after she’d cut her wrists?”
“That was actually the first body I saw. Of course it wasn’t the last.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “The floor was covered with her blood and I slipped on it and fell. My clothes were soaked with her blood.” His voice was calm, detached. “I ran out of the bathroom screaming and crying. My father found me and slapped me. Told me to be a man and clean myself up. I did. I never cried again.”
“This is horrible. You must have been terrified. You were only a boy.”
He was silent. “It made me tough. At one point every boy has to lose his innocence. The mafia isn’t a place for the weak.”
I knew that. I’d seen how Father had tried to shape Fabiano in the last few years and it always broke my heart when my little brother had to act like a man instead of the young boy that he was. “Emotions aren’t a weakness.”
“Yes, they are. Enemies always aim where they can hurt you most.”
“And where would the Bratva aim if they wanted to hurt you?”
Luca extinguished the lights. “They won’t ever find out.”
That wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for but I was too tired to ponder about it. Instead I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Going to the toilet burnt like hell, and walking wasn’t exactly comfortable either. I winced as I stepped back into the bedroom where Luca lay with his head propped up on his arm. He watched me. “Sore?”
I nodded, blushing. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
I lay down beside him. “I thought you might want to do it again, but I don’t think I can.”
Luca traced his fingertips over my ribs. “I know. I didn’t expect you to be ready so soon.” He rubbed my stomach, then inched a bit lower. “I could lick you if you are up for it.”
My core tightened and I really wanted to say yes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Luca nodded and settled back against the pillows. The blanket crowded around his hips, revealing his muscled torso and the scars there.
I moved closer and propped myself up above him. I traced Luca’s scars, wondering what kind of stories hid behind each of them. I wanted to know all of them, wanted to figure out Luca scar by scar like a puzzle. Where did he get the long scar on his shoulder and the bullet wound below his ribs? Luca was doing his own exploring with his eyes, wandering over my breasts and face. He ran his thumb over my nipples. “Your breasts are fucking perfect.” His touch was more possessive than sexual, but I could feel it all the way between my legs anyway.
Trying to distract myself, I paused with my fingertips against a mostly faded scar on his abs. “Where did you get this scar?”
“I was eleven.” My eyes grew wide. I was pretty sure where the story was going. “The Familia wasn’t as united as it is now. A few men thought they could grab power by killing my father and his sons. It was the middle of the night when I heard screaming and shooting. Before I could get out of bed, a man stepped into the room and pointed his gun at me. I knew I’d die as I stared into the barrel. I wasn’t as scared as I thought I’d be. He would have killed me, if Matteo hadn’t jumped him from behind when he pulled the trigger. The bullet went a lot lower than it was supposed to and hit my middle. It hurt like a motherfucker. I was screaming and probably would have passed out if the man hadn’t turned on Matteo to kill him. I had a gun stashed in the drawer of my nightstand, took it out and put a bullet in the man’s head before he could kill Matteo.”
“That was your first murder, right?” I whispered.
Luca’s eyes, which had been lost in another time, focused on me. “Yeah. The first of many.”
“When did you kill again?”
“That same night.” He smiled humorlessly. “After that first man, I told Matteo to hide in my closet. He protested but I was bigger and locked him in. By then I’d lost quite a bit of blood but I was high on adrenaline and could still hear shooting downstairs, so I headed for the noise with my gun. My father was in a shooting match with two attackers. I came down the stairs but nobody paid me any attention, and then I shot one of them from behind. My father took the other down with a shot in the shoulder.”