“Penny?” Tobias cringes and twists his legs together. “I really need to use the bathroom now.”
Shit.
I glance at Luca in question.
“It’s right in here, little buddy.” He jerks his head at the ajar door across the other side of the room, then quickly squeezes his eyes shut again, wincing. “Walk through the robe to the door at the end.”
Tobias peers up at me, waiting for approval.
“It’s okay.” I want to go with him, to lessen his fear, but I’m not finished with Luca. Not by a long shot. “Freshen up while you’re in there. Wash your face and hands.”
He nods, keeping an eye on the stranger as he walks to the door before disappearing inside.
The conversation doesn’t fall back into place once we’re alone.
Luca’s eyes remain partially squinted, his face pinched with discomfort.
Despite being uncertain about where to lay my trust, I don’t like seeing him in pain.
“Do you need a doctor?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing but a headache.”
“It’s not fine. Not when you expect me to entrust you with the lives of the people I love.”
His nostrils flare. “You know what? The slightest bit of appreciation would go a long fucking way to ease the throb in my head. All I’ve done is try to help you and you keep spitting it back in my face.”
I straighten, the tiniest fissure of regret breaking through my defenses.
He’s right. I’ve shown very little thanks for what he’s done. But that’s because his promises of freedom don’t feel real. The death of my captors seems like a dream.
Shock hasn’t allowed for anything positive to sink in. Not relief or happiness.
Definitely not the appreciation he craves.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not ungrateful. I’m just…”
“Forget it.” He huffs out a sigh. “I’ve got a spare shirt if you want to get out of your stained clothes.” His attention treks my body, the scrutiny far more subtle than what I’m used to. There’s no desire. No threat. “Or Keira might have something you can borrow.”
“I don’t want anything from her.” Not clothes. Not placations. “I’ll make do with what I have.”
“You can’t go back to Naxos in bloodstained clothes.”
I straighten. “Go back?”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He raises a brow. “And apparently I can’t get through the gates without you.”
The appreciation he’s been searching for finally hits me, the buzz filtering through my limbs. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Torian has to—”
“Penny.” Tobias’s frantic voice calls from the bathroom. “Penny.”
My heart drops, the cookie falling from my fingers.
I run, scrambling toward the plea for help, only to have Luca beat me to the door as he pulls a gun from the back of his waistband. I make it to the bathroom a step behind him to find Toby standing at the bathroom counter, looking at the side of his shirt.
His eyes bug at the sight of us, his focus turning to the gun, his mouth dropping open as if he’s about to scream.
“What’s wrong?” I push past Luca and place a hand on his arm to encourage him to lower the weapon. “What happened?”
Tobias shrinks into me.
“It’s okay.” I crouch before him and grab his waist, clinging tight to gain his attention. “Luca thought you were in trouble. He came racing in here to help. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“There’s blood.” He twists his shirt to show me the stain on the side of the material. “I think I’m hurt.”
My pulse spikes.
I’ve been hit so many times during the height of an adrenaline rush that I know what it’s like not to feel injuries until the intensity wears off.
If he’s hurt and I didn’t know… If he’s dying and I didn’t think to check him…
I stand, grabbing his shirt to yank it over his head, then mount a full-scale search of his body, frantically scanning him everywhere. Arms. Stomach. Back. Skull.
I can’t find any cuts or marks. There’s nothing. Only pure, delicate skin. But I keep searching, making him spin around one more time to triple check.
“I don’t think he’s injured.” Luca approaches, his gun thankfully returned to the back of his jeans. “Even if he was, I’m sure he’d survive. You’re a tough kid, aren’t you, Tobias? Brave, too.”
Toby straightens with the compliment, his tiny muscles moving under my touch. He nods, quick and sharp, the slightest sense of pride ebbing from him.
“Why don’t you get him to take a shower or a bath?” Luca asks. “It might help. I can get him a clean T-shirt to wear afterward. Obviously it will swim on him, but it’s better than walking around in stained clothes.”
More pained beats pummel my chest. I don’t like how his kindness affects me. The tiny fingers of comfort latch around my chest, threatening to squeeze me to death. It takes all my strength to ignore my doubt. For Toby’s sake.
“What do you say?” I cup his cheek. “Do you think a relaxing bath will make you feel better? You’ve been awake for a long time and the water might help you wind down so you can rest for a few hours.”
He stares at me with indecision, then shoots a nervous glance at the bulking man blocking the doorway.
“Don’t worry, little guy. I’ll leave.” Luca steps back from the door and awkwardly bumps into the frame as he retreats.
I narrow my gaze, watching as he fumbles then sways on his feet before disappearing from view. Something is wrong with him. Very wrong.
“Toby, start getting undressed. I’ll be back to run the water in a second.” I follow after Luca, my stride long as I catch up to him in the bedroom. “Wait.” I grab his arm when he doesn’t stop and let go just as fast. My grip on his muscled bicep was a stark reminder of the threat he provides. Of his dangerous abilities.
He turns to look at me, and stumbles. His face is pale, a glimmer of sweat breaking across his brow.
Before I know it I’m latching onto him again, this time trying to keep him upright, the knitted muscle beneath my hands hard and unyielding.
“What’s wrong?” I struggle to keep him standing. “Luca?”
He stares straight through me, his forehead creased. “Shit.”
“I’ll get help.” I make for the door only to be stopped by rough hands gripping my upper arms. I freeze, my panic instantaneous.
I brace for violation. All the horrors Luther bestowed upon me lay out like a smorgasbord as I wait for Luca to make his choice.
“I’m fine. I just moved too quick.” He releases me and fumbles forward to the bed, allowing me to breathe again.
I don’t budge as he slumps onto the mattress, his head hanging, the wisps of his blood-matted hair falling to shroud his eyes.
Bile coats the back of my throat, the nausea coming thick and fast. I didn’t realize how much faith I had in him until those hands gripped me tightly. There wasn’t trust, but there must’ve been something else. Something to make me completely blindsided by his aggressive touch.