The anger in Will's face. The cruelty in his words. A belt cracking over her body without any mercy or end in sight. A hot knife searing into her skin, burning off her tattoo. Vomit. Panic. Pain. Blood.
It was a never-ending cycle of memories playing on repeat in her overwhelmed mind.
She'd tried to clean her wounds. Jordyn distinctly remembered wondering if her first aid kit had anything for severe burns in it and if she should shower to wash the injuries first, or if that would only cause more harm.
That was all she could recall. After that, the pain had become so awful she thought maybe sleeping for just a moment would help.
It hadn't, obviously.
Anxiety thrummed hard and fast in Jordyn's heart, causing the organ to thunder like hooves as panic ebbed her breathing to short, gasping pants.
"Jesus, calm down. It's okay. You're fine. Lucian! Lucian, get in here!"
Jordyn felt his presence in the room the moment he stepped into it.
"What in the hell did you do, Dante?" Lucian growled.
"Nothing! She woke up and had a fucking panic attack or something."
"Get out before I kick your ass, right now!"
When the bedroom door closed quietly, Jordyn felt Lucian slip into the bed with her. Strong hands curled around hers clawing into the sheets, pulling them free. Kisses dotted down to her knuckles over and over, a calm murmuring following each kiss. Jordyn had squeezed her eyes shut so fiercely it actually hurt, so when she opened them, she found herself face to face with Lucian's panicked expression.
"It's all right," he told her. "Safe, remember? You're always safe with me, sweetheart."
Jordyn let him pull her up to a sitting position before wrapping her in a strong embrace. It was only then she realized what he was wearing, which was practically nothing at all. Nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs and a towel hanging around his neck. Even his skin and hair were damp, telling her he must have just gotten out of the shower.
She didn't even care. It didn't matter that she had nothing covering her but a sheet, either.
Every injury on Jordyn's body stung like hell, but she clung tightly to the one thing that seemed familiar and safe. Lucian.
"H-he … he beat me," she rasped out. "Like an animal. Just … beat me."
"Will Vetta?" Lucian asked, his tone turning dark.
Jordyn nodded frantically. "The others, they … they didn't do anything. Held me down and let him hurt me. They didn't even care."
With gentle touches and tender words, Lucian pacified Jordyn's panic. Once she was calmed enough to think rationally, the first wisps of embarrassment fluttered through her emotions. The sheet hiding her nudity had fallen in her fear, exposing her from the chest down to where it pools between them.
Lucian, ever the gentleman, covered her with the sheet, never taking his gaze from hers once. "I'm sorry about your lack of clothes. I didn't have anything in this apartment for clothing, and I didn't take the time to grab you something from yours after I found you like you were. My mother will be around later to bring you some things and she'll buy whatever you'd like to have otherwise, okay?"
That admittance sent Jordyn through a whole new round of emotions. He'd found her after the attack. Bloodied, bruised, and beaten. She must have looked near death if the way she felt now was any indication.
"Besides that," Lucian continued, not noticing Jordyn's distraction, " … Paulie suggested it wouldn't be good for your wounds to be wrapped too tightly for the first couple of days, especially by something as constricting as clothing. This way, it minimizes the chance of infection for the bad ones on your back and hip."
"Paulie?" Jordyn asked.
Lucian offered her a supportive smile. "A very good friend, a doctor for us, our family."
"Your family … Cosa Nostra. That one, you mean."
"You remembered that, then," he said, not seeming bothered by it at all. "I wasn't sure you would."
"Kind of," she admitted. "I don't understand, though."
"Another time. It's not important right now."
"But you will tell me, right?"
"I will," Lucian agreed. "When you're better. It involves more than just me."
Jordyn understood that. Thinking about the man Lucian had kicked out of the room, she asked, "Was that one of your brothers?"
"Yes, that was Dante. He's a year younger than me. He should be in church this morning with our parents, but he's using me as an excuse to skip. I need a babysitter, and apparently, my father agrees."
"For what?"
"To keep me from killing someone," Lucian said frankly. "They should know better. Out of the three of us brothers, I am not the hothead, even as pissed off as I am."
Oh. Well …
"What did he call me?" she asked.
"What was it?"
"He said something when I woke up. I didn't understand it. Caz … murder, I think."
Lucian laughed darkly. "Cazzo merda?"
"Yeah."
"Essentially, cazzo is a really offensive word in Italian for a man's dick, but it's also used in place of fuck or variations of the word fuck. Merda literally means shit. So … "
"Fucking shit," Jordyn filled in, nodding. Of course it would be some form of a cuss. "I get it. There was something else, though. Princi … princa-something or other."
Lucian's head snapped up as if he'd been shot, his eyes blazing into hers. "Principessa?"
"Yeah. That's it. What is that?"
Swallowing thickly, Lucian muttered, "It means princess in Italian. For men like us, it means something entirely different. I'll tell him to cut his nonsense out."
"I don't think he meant anything by it," Jordyn tried to say.
"Yes, he did."
Seemingly not wanting to discuss it further, Lucian went about untangling the IV tube that had become wrapped in her arm and hand.
"Thank you."
"Never thank me. Not for helping you, sweetheart. The only thing I need from you is for you to tell me what you need, when you need it. If I can, I will always give it to you."
"Safety," Jordyn whispered.
Lucian nodded, his fingers ghosting over the multiple bruises littering her arm. "I can do that."
Chapter Nine
Jordyn awoke to pitch-black darkness. Perspiration soaked her skin and hair, dampening the sheets and pillows on the comfortable bed. She must have been tossing and turning something awful in her sleep, because the sheets were tangled around her lower half in a terrible knot of fabric, effectively keeping her from moving.
She didn't have to wonder what woke her up. Jordyn knew. It was the same thing that had been affecting her sleep for the last six days since she woke up after her attack. The nightmares were recurrent of her beating. She could smell her vomit and blood, the tang of propane, and feel the pain like it was happening all over again. Even worse, the nightmare only seemed to get more horrible with every dream. There were more people there, some yelling¸ some urging her attacker on. No one would help when she begged them to.
Jordyn was aware they were just dreams. Not real, not now. It didn't help much.
The fear from her dream was still running thick through her emotions, and before she could stop herself, she was gasping Lucian's name. The sound was strained and terrified. Fisting the blankets, she barely called out for him a second time before his familiar, comforting figure was shadowing the doorway.
Did he ever sleep?
Lucian took a hesitant step into the room, staying silent. The thin sleep pants he wore rested low on his hips while his muscled stomach and chest were bare. Maybe he had been sleeping. Jordyn didn't need him to tell her she was safe. With him there, she knew she was.
"You okay?" Lucian asked.
Jordyn wanted to reassure him, but she couldn't.
"I'm sorry," Jordyn whispered as Lucian watched her warily. "I just … "
What, had a bad dream?
Jesus, she felt like a child.
"Never mind," Jordyn eventually said, embarrassment slipping into her voice. "Please go back to sleep."
"Wasn't sleeping," Lucian replied easily. "I was just resting my eyes."
Jordyn snorted under her breath. "Sure. I'm good, though, really."
Lucian didn't act like he'd heard her. "It's a good thing Paulie took your IV out the evening after he put it in, what with the way you squeeze sheets to death every time you panic."
She released her grip immediately.
"It's nothing."
"It's hard, you know."
"Huh?"
Lucian shrugged in the darkness. "Listening to you whimper and thrash around in here. I don't know if you want me to wake you up, or what you need. I feel like I have to stay awake just to make sure at some point you're sleeping without the dreams."
Oh, God.
"You've been having them a lot," he stated matter-of-fact.
"Yeah, but I'm fine, Lucian."
"I don't believe that for a second, and since my heart is in my throat right now, I really need to make sure you're fine, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won't sleep for another month."