Sam chuckles then turns it into a cough when she shoots him a glare. His ass would really be in trouble if I told her it was his idea. Of course, she has no idea that smoking is a lesser evil than what I’m trying to avoid using. I feel like a guilty child as I say, “Yeah, but it’s just temporary.”
She puts her hands on her hips in a move I know heralds a lecture. “Lucian Quinn, are you crazy? Why in the world would you pick now to start smoking…temporarily?”
I have to give Cindy credit for managing to inject an amazing amount of sarcasm and disgust into just two sentences. I can only imagine what she would have to say to me if she knew of my real vice. I can almost picture her putting me over her knee, and not in a kinky way, either. It makes me that much more determined to quit and to make sure she never finds out. I don’t think I could handle being such a disappointment in her eyes. “I’ve just been a bit…unsettled since Lia’s attack. This helps to take the edge off. I promise I’ll stop soon.” Grimacing, I say truthfully, “I can’t stand it any more than you can.”
She gives me a look of sympathy before shaking her head. “I’m sure this has been hard on you, Luc, but puffing on those vile things won’t change anything. I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with you and Aidan. To be such intelligent men, neither of you have the sense God gave a piss-ant sometimes.”
I can’t help it; I burst out laughing, not used to being scolded and called an idiot. There are few people who I’d let get away with talking to me like that, but I know she does it out of love and since that is in short supply in my life, I choose to just enjoy the fact that she cares enough to lecture me. “I’m sorry to disappoint you; I’ll try to correct it as soon as possible.”
They stay for a bit longer, while Cindy and I go over some messages she brought and I give her instructions for returning calls. Unfortunately, even with Aidan at the helm, there are things I must handle personally, and tomorrow I will need to find a quiet corner to do it. Sam has brought me more clothes, and Cindy not-so-nicely lets me know I should take care of that as soon as they leave. Hopefully, that’s just a dig at the smoke smell and not my hygiene. I’ve managed to use the tiny shower in Lia’s attached bathroom each day, but it’s a far cry from what I’m used to and even I’ll admit to feeling much less than my usual, well-groomed self.
Sam clasps my arm as they are leaving, saying, “All good?” I know the question holds a wealth of meaning, but I simply incline my head. With Cindy near, that is all the communication he will risk. She is far too perceptive and would ask a million questions at the first hint of trouble.
I am so tired by the time I’m alone again that I find myself drifting off as I return to my chair next to Lia’s bedside. I finally stop fighting sleep and let it take me, knowing it won’t be for long. Rest in a hospital is proving almost impossible, and I’ve learned quickly to take it where I can get it.
Lia
The light in the room seems unusually bright as I open and close my eyes, trying to adjust. My mouth is dry, causing my tongue to stick to the roof of it. I shift restlessly and catch my breath. “Ow,” I moan, trying to figure out why I feel as if I’ve been hit by a car. Again, my eyes flutter and this time, I’m able to keep them open long enough to look at my surroundings. My vision is blurry and I blink rapidly, trying to clear it. My body seems to be throbbing all over, making it impossible to pinpoint the source of the pain.
As I look around the unfamiliar room, I panic until I see him. Luc is sitting next to me with his arms crossed and his head lolling backwards in what looks like an extremely uncomfortable position. He is fully dressed and wearing what appears to be jeans and a polo shirt. Again, I look around the room, thinking we must be at his apartment, but nothing looks as it should. I close my eyes as my head begins to pound. ‘You thought you had me, didn’t you? You stupid little whore, who do you think you are?’ my stepfather taunted. I gasp as the words ring in my head. I open my eyes, looking frantically around the room, but nothing has changed. Lucian is still asleep next to me and no one else appears to be in the room.
“Just a dream,” I whisper. “It’s not real.”
Suddenly, the words are coming again and this time, I’m wide-awake. ‘Not so tough now, are you, without your rich boyfriend? I’m going to show him and the rest of the world what you really are, and this time there will be no mistaking my mark on you, whore!’
As the memories come flooding back, I realize with dawning horror that I’m not dreaming. Pushing the covers back, I start fighting against the tubes attached to my hands and frantically attempt to pull up my shirt. “Oh, God, please no. Please, don’t let it be there,” I cry as I fight to reach my stomach. “Luc, Luc!” I sob. “Lucian, please wake up.” As I struggle against the fabric covering me, Lucian suddenly sits up straight in the chair, looking around the room in confusion. My cries for help seem to finally register, and he jerks to his feet.
“Lia? Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks as he reaches for me. His eyes are wild as he grasps my hands.
“I need to see, Luc; please, I have to see if it’s there.” I struggle against his hold, trying to look under the gown I’m wearing.
“Lia, what? What do you need to see?”
“I need to see my stomach! Did he mark me? He said he was marking me!” The fight is starting to leave me as my body weakens. Lucian seems to finally understand what I’m asking as he pulls the sheet covering the lower part of my body aside and gently lifts my gown. There are bandages on my stomach and I start to gasp for breath, feeling like I’m in the throes of agony as the white coverings mock me. I lower my hands, starting to pluck at the bandages frantically before Lucian stills them.
“Baby, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself. The IV line is beginning to pull out of your hand again.” I ignore him, continuing to dig against the gauze until he catches my hands, trying to subdue me. “Lia, STOP! Christ, I’ll remove them, just please stop hurting yourself!”
My hands fall limp, and the sound of my breath wheezing through my lungs fills the room as I wait for him to do as he promised. I know with a certainty that I’ll lose it completely if he has lied to me. “Luc,” I say once, imploringly, and his hands move to my stomach without further words. Both our eyes are trained on his movements as slowly, piece by piece, he removes the tape holding the bandages in place. I look down as the last section falls away. I see long, angry lines and scratches and I think I can make out a W, but nothing else is readily clear. With a huge lump in my throat, I ask, “Does it…say anything? Can you see the word…whore?”