L'amore: The Luminara Series (20 page)

Rose is back at the door with food, which I turn down again.

I grab a quick shower trying to make myself feel fresher. My feet are grazed but not as bad as they were in Tuscany. When I return to bed, I try to process what has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I stare at the ceiling and listen to my playlist on my phone until sleep takes a hold of me again. The last image I must have in my mind before I fall asleep is the whore lying on my bed, cuffed to bedpost, which incites horrible nightmares.

I dream of my first memory of seeing my mum cuffed to Simon Park’s bed. Mary told me to go into Simon’s room to fetch something and in return, she would give me cold water from the main kitchen. She knew Mum was drugged and tied to the bed, and she wanted to ensure I witnessed it. That was her vice: she was disgustingly wicked and wanted to torment me … a child, a young, naive, innocent child. Her sinister games seemed to fulfil her with evil pleasure, which she thrived on.

Her psychotic mind was so warped, she actually smiled and laughed when I screamed and screamed. I wet myself because Mum wouldn’t answer me and didn’t move. Mary eventually stumbled and passed out on the floor because she was drugged herself, and I was left standing in my urine, petrified and trembling.

After Simon heard me screaming, he dragged me out of the house on sticks, threw me over the decking and onto the grass, then stormed back inside and slammed the door.

I went into shock for weeks after that brutal ordeal. I never cried, never spoke either, just hid in a quiet corner in our shed and rocked back and forth. I never told Cameron what I saw, or Mum, because I couldn’t say it. Saying it was like seeing it all over again.

When I wanted the images out of my mind, I would close my eyes and try to imagine daisy chains. They were pretty. Mum and I used to make them and wear them as necklaces. They were the nicest thing I had seen at that age, and they made me feel happy. I willed myself to visualise them. Instead, the concept of the daisy chains as a necklace would evoke the disturbing scene that I witnessed in Simon’s room and make me feel worse.

Mum was sedated and dressed up in a seedy costume. She had a metal mask over her face, a metal choker with spikes around her neck, which attached to a chain on a huge freestanding metal device. She was barely recognisable, but I knew it was Mum because her long hair fanned her naked shoulders. Both wrists and ankles were restrained by metal cuffs, blood dripped from her wrists and ankles, and the sheet between her legs was stained with blood. A camera sat on the bottom of the bed and a video camera on a tripod stood next to it.

I finally understood why she was always sore, bruised, and bloody. It also explained the red, raw welts on her ankles and wrists. It was shortly after that I experienced similar abuse, albeit not as explicit. Michael began tying me up and photographing me. Then a few years after, the day I tried to escape into the Australian bush … that was the day I faced the worst imaginable cruelty. He took my innocence.

I’m trying to escape. I’m running through the Australian bush.

He’s chasing me … he’s shouting at me … my bare feet are hurting and bleeding.

It’s dark … it’s hot.

I’m scared.

I can’t get away.

I need to get away.

Banging on the door and shouting startles me. In a panic, I scramble off the bed and open it quickly. Lucca picks me up and carries me back to the bed holding me steady.

“Breathe, just breathe. Calm down, baby, it is okay, I have you.” His voice is coarse and broken as he kisses my head and softly strokes my hair, tracing his fingers down my face and cheek. “Jesus, Lexi, you scared the shit out of me. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think so,” I pant, trying to lower my heart rate and fill my starved lungs with oxygen. He holds me tightly, kissing me continually.

Breathlessly, I whisper, “Just hold me,” and he does. Stroking my hair, he presses his nose and mouth against my temple until I’m calmer.

“How did you know I was having a nightmare?” I ask once I gain some sort of equilibrium and composure.

“I have been sitting outside the room waiting on you. I must have dozed off, but I jolted when I heard you scream.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you. I need you to hold me so much right now,” I sob as my tears begin. I hold onto him tightly while he caresses me with nothing but gentle, tender love.

My chest heaves while I shake, sob, and break my heart with raw, heavy tears. He squeezes me into his chest so hard he nearly crushes me. Burying his face into my neck and stroking my hair over and over, he soothes me.

“I know you wanted time and space, but I just could not handle you shutting me out like this. I am begging you to please let me back into your heart, Doc. I need you.”

“I need you too,” I cry with my eyes closed, thankful I feel secure in his arms right now.

“Do you want to tell me about your nightmare? Please let me help you. I fucking hate to see you like this, dolcezza.” Leaning against the headboard, he sits upright and pulls me onto his lap where I nestle my head in the crook of his neck.

“The woman in our bed … I was thinking about her and it stirred a horrible memory when I saw my mum cuffed and …” I can’t even say it. It hurts too much. I just want Lucca to take it all away, the pain, fear, paranoia, and darkness.

“Christ! It is my fault. It is all my fault that you are having dreams like this. If you never witnessed that fucking absurdity last night, you would not have had that nightmare. Jesus, Lexi, I cannot handle how much I have hurt you recently. I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I love you, baby, I love you so fucking much. You are my everything.” He kisses my head hard and breathes heavily against my hair.

“I cannot endure seeing you like this, and I cannot bear that I am hurting you this much. It kills me you needed time away from me. I need to fix this, to treat you with the respect you deserve and do whatever it takes to get us past this. Tell me what to do, what you want me to do.” His voice is threaded because he’s hurting for me. “I love you and I promised you I would take care of you. I need your love, Lexi … tell me what you are thinking … we need to talk … can you talk to me yet?” Gently, he lifts my hand to his mouth. He covers my hand in kisses and brushes his lips over my engagement ring before settling my hand on his heart and covering it with his.

“I love you too, I do, but I’m mentally exhausted, Lucca. When I saw that woman naked in our bed, I felt as if she had ripped through my flesh, taken my heart, twisted it, then left it out to bleed. I feel so scared because it’s not a lifestyle I can give you, and I’m worried that I’ll continue to come home to some other woman in my bed, or that I’m not enough for you,” I confess anxiously.

“Christ almighty, baby, I do not ever want you to feel this way. You are so much more, so much better. I want you. I need you. Only you. Not the lifestyle that, because of last night, you think I need.” He holds me tightly as I continue sobbing. “There will never be anyone else for me. You stole my heart, and I gave you mine. I have been waiting for you my entire life, and I will never let go of you. I am the luckiest man on earth to have you in my arms. Please never feel insecure again. I cannot stress to you enough that you are my now and my future. Only you. Forever, only you.” His voice has faltered, and I know he’s trying to be strong for me. Leaning over, he presses his cheek against mine his hot breath skimming across my wet sticky skin.

His cheeks are now wet from stray, salty tears embedded onto his skin. He inhales and continues, “I wish I could change my past, Lexi, I do. I would change everything for you, but I cannot. I can only give you my future … my word that it will never happen again. That woman was nothing to me, and she will not be bothering us again. What can I do? Tell me what to do to make this right. I cannot stand seeing you like this.” There’s determination in his tone because he needs me to believe him. I want to believe him.

He pleads nonsensically. My stomach churns. What if she lives locally? What if I bump into her again?

Fuck!

File H for hibernation. Hibernation is a possibility.

“Why was she here? When was the last time you saw her or were in contact with her? How often did you see her?” I’m firmer now and try to calm my tears because I need serious answers. I swallow because I’m not sure I’m going to like what I hear. Although, I need to know. Becoming rigid, I sit up and lean back to open the space between us.

He squeezes my hand, pressing it against his chest to reaffirm he is telling me the truth and everything he says is from his heart. Meeting my eyes, he shows me he’s being honest. “I have not seen or heard from her in fifteen or sixteen months. I have only ever been with her twice on the same weekend. We were in a hotel at a work conference. Both times I was drunk and it was meaningless.”

“So she works with you too?” I tsk.

“No, she was with a sponsorship company but happens to know some of my employees, so she ended up sitting at our table.”

“If you haven’t had contact with her, then why was she here? Do they do that, the whores you’ve been with? Just turn up out of the blue? Help me understand this.” I hit a raw nerve because his jaw twitches; he closes his eyes, opens them, and looks browbeaten.

“No, of course not. No one I have ever seen before has ever turned up and especially not in that way. I tend to only have family and my close friends here and it is by invite only. When the police interrogated her, I tried to find out why she was here. I could not understand it. I was as shocked as you. She lied and said she was invited. I barely even remember her. She told the police she was an ex-girlfriend, which is a lie. I have no idea why she would do or say that. And, she was doped up and therefore trying to play immature mind games. I still do not know why she was here.”

“Well I do,” I snap. “She was here for sex. Sex with you, and clearly she had some crazy idea that I was one of your other whores and she wanted me to join in. If I ever and I mean
ever
have to be subjected to that again, believe me when I say this, Lucca, I’ll walk away. I’m not putting up with that crap.” I turn my head and stare at the wall.

He inwardly gasps. “Do not call yourself that again. You are my fiancée, and I will do everything to make sure you know it and everyone else does too. I have no interest in anyone else but you, and I certainly would not be entertaining that behaviour in my house even if I was single. I will never let you walk, Lexi … ever, so I will need to make it up to you and ensure you are never put through anything like this again.”

I need to know, I don’t know why, but I want to know. “Is that how you enjoyed sex before? With more than one woman at a time?” I’m praying this was not the case because it would crush my heart, and I might always continue to feel too inadequate for him knowing he enjoyed a more adventurous sex life.

“God no, absolutely not. I promise you. She obviously has and does, but, baby, she was doped up and completely out of it. Come here. I would never treat a woman like that and partake in something so distasteful. Lexi, you should know me better than that. I am not that type of person.” If he promises me, then I believe him and I’m relieved, but still, I can’t get the image of her out of my head. It’s sickening. He tries to pull me back into his embrace, but I’m not finished so I remain tense.

“And then there is Kimberley. I don’t like that she works so closely to you. Am I going to be introduced daily to the women of your past? Women who you have slept with, who obviously still want you. Don’t you see how degrading and hurtful that is?” I slap my free hand on the mattress.

“Yes, it is degrading and I am sorry. I did not expect Kimberley to be rude or jealous. I do not and have not had any feelings for her. But you are right; she works in my immediate team, so I did not see any harm in you meeting her. To me she is just another work colleague, but I get that it was wrong of me, insensitive and thoughtless. I understand now that it is hurtful for you and that it upsets you. I will be more considerate because you are my priority, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.” His thumb brushes over my wrist. Even with the space between, us he’s not let go of my hand.

I sigh because I do appreciate that he wants to protect my feelings, but she is Anna’s friend and it’s inevitable we are going to bump into each other again. “I feel like I am never going to get over this, Lucca. While you can try and keep me away from Kimberley, realistically, we will cross paths and I will always feel like this.” I suddenly feel cold and shivery after waking up hot and sweaty.

“I am not going to lie. I cannot guarantee you will never see her again. She is Anna’s friend, so she does spend time with her outside of work. Although, I will do everything I can to try and settle your worries and make you feel better. I was thinking that I could transfer her into another department so she is not working directly under Suzanne. Would that help?” He lifts my hand up and kisses my ring again and then my fingers, finally pulling me back onto his lap. I don’t object this time because I’m thankful he is trying and he can now see why I’m so upset.