Weak and dumb, and controlled by a part of her body that was practically useless to her at any other time.
It felt punishingly poetic that the easiest part of her old life to escape—a man she had felt nothing more than a young, girlish crush for—was the same thing that was now causing her more problems than she knew what to do with. In more than just the obvious ways, too. Or was that irony?
Penny didn’t know.
It wouldn’t help if she did.
“What are you doing up there?”
The question had Penny jerking back to the present in an instant. On top of the dresser, resting on her knees so that she could see out the small window, she was quite aware how she must look to Luca with the skirt of her dress hiked up around her hips so that she had more balance on the shitty furniture.
He probably had a partial view of her ass. Despite not wanting to feel embarrassed by that fact—it wasn’t like her body hadn’t been put on display before for various reasons—she still felt the blush creep up her throat into her cheeks.
More foolishness.
Every time he made a comment over the last two days that she could even slightly twist as suggestive, Penny did the same thing. Averted her eyes. Hid her face so that he couldn’t see the pink in her cheeks. Quieted. At least then, she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself. Because if she couldn’t get this stupid attraction under control, then she would make sure he didn’t know it existed in the first place.
Solid plan, her mind taunted. Another bitch in her life currently.
Giving one last look out the window—at nothing because there was nothing to see but the brick of a neighboring building—Penny sighed and turned away from the window. She refused to look at Luca when she climbed down from the dresser to slip on the heels she had kicked off to the floor.
“Checking,” she muttered.
“For what?”
“Someone. Anyone.”
A sign that someone from The League had finally decided to show up and make her hellish existence better. Maybe one of her handlers walking down an alleyway to save her from stumbling over her words while she blushed like a schoolgirl and threw herself at a man that was nothing more than a problem to what should be most important in her life.
She told Luca none of that.
It wouldn’t do any good.
“Your people?” Luca asked. “I doubt you’re gonna see anything looking out that window. Except for maybe—”
“Waste of time, anyway,” Penny interjected. “They’ll find me when they want to.”
And that was the simple fact of the matter. Not that she would explain why or how to Luca—the guy didn’t need more fodder to his fire when it came to tracking her down. A chip in her upper left arm, about the size of a grain of rice, assured that when the coast was clear and her handlers were comfortable, they would come.
Without issue.
“The shower is open if you want it,” Luca said.
She should. Two days without a bath or shower was just about her limit, honestly.
Penny lifted her head, ready to agree, and thank him for the information but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Luca standing in the doorway to their tiny room with nothing more than a towel hanging around his waist. He was tall—lean, but not lanky. Golden skin dusted with dark hair glimmered under the dim light in the room, and the droplets of water that still clung to his black hair said he’d barely even used that towel before coming back to their room.
No ink marred his skin.
A couple scars on his chest only added to the chiseled planes that made up a muscular torso. The bands of his arms, threaded with veins she wanted to trace with her fingertips, flexed when he tossed the pile of clothes to the foot of the bed. It had been easier to focus on ignoring her attraction when he had been doing nothing more than coming and going from their room, bringing back food, a pillow, and even a book when she asked for it. All clothed.
Now, she was going to have this image of him burned into the back of her eyeballs. No doubt, that wouldn’t help her at all.
Why?
Why was he so beautiful?
It was unfair, really.
“You okay?” Luca asked when she remained silent.
No.
Not at all.
“Fine,” Penny managed to utter. “I’m just gonna—”
“You know, if you wanted to show me your ass, you could have just done that. You didn’t need to climb up there and wait for me to come back.”
Penny blinked, her mouth falling open audibly. “What?”
That was not that she did.
Luca laughed, grabbing his shirt from the bed and tossing her a wink as he flipped open the fabric. “I’m kidding, Penny. Lighten up.”
She was in control at all times. It was one of the few things her training at The League had afforded her that she was most grateful for. And yet, when it came to this man, it seemed like her control didn’t exist at all.
“I gotta go,” Penny said, walking past a confused looking Luca to head for the doorway. “I need a shower.”
Maybe a drink, too.
“Penny, hey—”
“I’ll be back.”
When she felt like it.
Luca’s sigh rang out behind her before he called, “Don’t leave the building.”
Right.
Even if she wanted to, she didn’t have a choice but to stay. That was ninety percent of the damn problem. She couldn’t get away from him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. This couldn’t possibly lead her to anywhere good.
THE SHOWER DID nothing for Penny. It certainly didn’t help with her growing problem despite the fact that she couldn’t even get the water to a bearably warm temperature. Cold showers were a joke even when it was unintentional. She did manage to snag a black tank top someone had left hanging from a makeshift clothesline in the hallway to throw on and with the skin-tight slip she wore under her dress to help conceal any weapons, it was like a whole new outfit.
Mostly.
She might return the top.
If she felt like it.
Penny found the bar Luca had mentioned on their first day after wandering a maze of halls for what felt like an hour. Attached to a kitchen where she was positive Luca had been getting their food from during their stay, the bar wasn’t much to look at. But neither was the rest of the place, either. Mismatched tables, booths, and chairs were set up haphazardly to face a small platform where a singer was currently crooning into a microphone through a haze of smoke.
This place wasn’t legal by any stretch of the imagination. That much was clear. It also served a purpose because she didn’t think she had ever seen such a melting pot of people as the ones that lingered in the bar and kitchen.
She also found what served as the entrance. Not that it appeared that way. More like a nondescript door between two others where a man stood with a weapon at his hip, deciding who could and could not come inside which led directly into the bar.
Despite the strange atmosphere of the place, no one paid her any mind when she found a seat at a table near the back of the bar. With only the tank top and slip to cover her skin, her patchwork of scars was on clear display.
No one even looked her way.
They didn’t care.
It made it easier for her to forget that she wasn’t trying to blend in when she really didn’t have to in the first place. How long had it been since she just ... was?