Lucian (Filthy Marcellos #1)(15)

The moment he stepped inside the apartment, Lucian was surveying everything.

The doorway led straight into the living room. There was a mess on the floor, like he'd seen from the crack, but it was much worse than he thought. Things had been strewed, like they were kicked around, or possibly messed up in a struggle. A yellow top lay ripped and forgotten on the couch. Vomit, or what he assumed to be vomit, had stained the floor.

There was a bit of blood. Too much, really. Starting to dry, he noted.

A studded belt was also on the floor in the clutter, as were darkened, burned knives. 

Panic swelled in Lucian's chest.

"Jordyn!" Lucian shouted.

Quickly, he moved through the living room, pushing open a door to find a bedroom with sheets and blankets messed up on the mattress. The second door he opened was the bathroom.

It was there that he found her.

"Merda  …  Jordyn  …  Sweetheart."

Lucian took one step into the bathroom and wished he was one day early.

Jordyn was bloodied, and beaten. Lucian didn't have time to think, let alone consider all of her visible injuries, but his fast paced mind couldn't help but take note of everything. Several lacerations covered her arms, back, and legs. Crimson stained the tub. Some wounds were swelled so badly, with bruises forming, he knew they were breeding infection, or had to be.

Slightly turned in the bathtub so part of her shoulder and back faced the doorway, he could see the marks left behind there, too. That beautiful cherry blossom tattoo of hers wasn't entirely ruined, but it took some major damage. On her face was another brutal lash from where she'd been hit, the swelling severe and frightening.

She must have tried to clean herself up after whatever happened. The tub wasn't wet, but she had set out a first aid kit, some pain killers, and clean towels. Obviously she'd been awake for some time, but eventually she gave up.

Lucian forced the sickness rising in his stomach down.

The slight rise and fall of her shoulders allowed him one sigh of relief.

He wasted no more time.

Lucian had his cell phone dialing as he crossed the small space. Dante hadn't even finished saying hello before he was shouting orders. "Call Paulie, right now, Dante. Get him on the phone. Tell him we need meds, lots of them. IV's, morphine, antibiotics. I want him close, and quick."

"Lucian  …  what's wrong?"

"Call Paulie," Lucian repeated, a tremor rocking his words. He hadn't realized it until right then, but wetness was slipping down his cheeks. Tears, he realized. It was years since he cried. "You'll have to call Antony, too, and let him know. She's hurt. They hurt her so bad, man."

"Maybe a hospital would-"

"No," he interrupted fiercely. "That'll go on record. They can't find her and they will be looking for her."

Dante heaved a breath and Lucian heard his car engine turn over. "Do you need help?"

"No. She's maybe one-hundred-fifteen pounds soaking wet. I'll bring her down, just get the car ready."

Not to mention, Jordyn was naked from the waist up. Lucian needed to find something to cover her, and at the same time, be mindful of her injuries.

"Oh, bella mia," he whispered, leaning down into the tub to brush the hair from her face. Jordyn's eyes were open, but they weren't focusing. Lucian wasn't sure she could even hear him. "It's okay, sweetheart. This isn't going to happen again. Ever. He won't ever touch you again."

"Jesus," Dante muttered. "Get her down here. I'm calling Paulie."

Lucian hung up his phone and dropped it into his pocket. Using the clean towels Jordyn had sat out, he covered her chest and back loosely, making sure not to wrap the fluffy fabric to her skin too tightly. Cradling her lower back and slipping his arm under her bent knees, he pulled her from the bathtub like she weighed nothing at all.

It was only then he noticed what must have hurt her the worst.

The tattoo on her hip he touched, the one that gave her safety for so long, was burned off.





Chapter Eight





The apartment Lucian took Jordyn to for recovering and safety was owned by his father. It was one of many residential properties their family owned. Being in realty could be a good thing, considering they had apartments ready to move in all over the city just in case something happened and they needed a safe retreat. Unlike Jordyn's apartment building, one step away from being condemned, this one bedroom Brooklyn apartment was well maintained, safe, and would work for as long as Lucian needed it to.



       
         
       
        

Lucian's Manhattan apartment was too far away for him to keep an eye on Jordyn and do his business all the same, so until she was well enough to travel again, they would have to stay here.

Paulie cleared his throat to get Lucian's attention. The low hum of the television in the living room reminded him his brothers were still there, too. They refused to leave, even after Paulie assured them both Lucian and he could handle caring for Jordyn.

Antony had yet to arrive, but he was mixed up at the office handling some issue with management. The man was just as good as a crime boss as he was a normal boss. Scarily so.

"She's clean of track marks, so she doesn't use needles." Paulie went from looked at the creases of Jordyn's limp, abused arms, to examining the teeth in her mouth. Perfect, white pearls stared back at the doctor. "And she isn't sucking on a pipe, either. Her mouth is in too good of condition for that. If you want, I can take a blood sample and have it tested to be sure she's clean of other things."

Lucian shook his head to decline that offer. "I think if she were addicted to something particular and using as often as an addict would, it'd be obvious, regardless of how functioning of an addict she is."

"It would, you're right."

"What about  … ?" Lucian trailed off, leaving the question hanging as he waved towards his own groin area. It'd been a great worry of his to think about the possibility she was raped. He didn't want to even say it.

"I'd say no," Paulie replied, keeping his usual professionalism. "And that's without doing an exam, which I'm not comfortable with unless she was awake. Frankly, I'm okay with saying she wasn't just from when we removed her shorts alone. There were no bruises on her thighs to suggest someone had forced them open, and trust me, there would be as she fought hard. The marks would be very obvious as to what they were. Similar to the handprint bruises on her arms. There were no fluids, and no blood in her shorts. She isn't swollen or irritated on the surface in that area. No, definitely not."

Lucian breathed a silent sigh of relief. It was one small victory.

"She took one hell of an awful beating," the doctor noted. "She was hit hard, repeatedly. Whatever was used, it left imprints all over her body."

"A belt. There was one on the floor. The studs match the welts. A man's, certainly not hers."

"I can hear the anger in your voice. You need to calm down and think about all of this, Lucian. You can't go off half-cocked because of whoever doing what they did to her."

"It's not whoever, Paulie. I know who did this." 

"You look like a guilty man," Paulie said quietly.

Lucian shrugged. Of course he looked guilty. He felt as terrible as shit. Being one day late had cost Jordyn a lot.

"It wasn't you who hurt her," his father's consigliere continued. "If anything, you helped to prevent this infection from turning into something nastier. The pain alone must have been unimaginable for her. I don't know how she managed to keep lucid enough to lock her door and get into the bathroom like she did."

A shiver rolled down Lucian's spine. More than once, he was a witness to a well-deserved beating. He'd seen tattoos burned from men before as a form of punishment or torture. Their business-as grizzly as it could be-did not mess with women in that way.

"She's going to have some scarring," Paulie informed, looking over the wounds on her shoulders once more. He hadn't tapped the gauze bandages down, simply wrapped them loosely for the night to allow the creams to do what work they could. "Especially these ones that broke through her tattoo, and that awful burn on her hip. It won't be too bad, and later on, if she wants, cosmetic correction is a good possibility for the burn sight. I've seen great work done, Lucian. Not that she isn't a healthy, pretty young woman as it is."

Lucian cocked his head to the side, confused. "Scars don't bother me. She's fine. Still beautiful."

Paulie chuckled deeply. "I wasn't saying it for your benefit, son. I meant for you to explain to her when she was lucid enough to understand if she was concerned about the scarring. It's good to know you think she's beautiful even in this condition, however. That speaks well for your feelings."

Huh?

"I'm not  …  I don't know her, Paulie. I just  … " Lucian sighed, frustrated at being unable to finish a sentence. "I would like to know her, but considering I was probably the one who caused her to get a beating like this, I doubt she'll be happy to see me when she wakes up."

"Ah, don't sell yourself so short just yet, Lucian. When your father called me a couple of days ago about this  …  infatuation  …  of yours, he was very concerned for you. I suppose he was concerned over this girl because she'd lived the way she had for so long, how could she be open to living some way else. Even with all they caused her to suffer, would she still be loyal to them? It's not a far stretch for Antony to wonder. It's his job as the Don of our family, and as your father."