13. THIRTEEN

THIRTEEN

I t's well into the evening when we finally get to the hotel in Downtown Seattle. After we checked in, we brought our stuff upstairs and then basically ran back into the cold, rainy night. We ended up at an upscale Japanese restaurant a few blocks away.

Luca said no one would recognize him, but the server seemed flustered as soon as she set our drinks on the table. And while the meal was uneventful, I could have sworn some people were recording or taking photos as they walked by. Luca either didn't seem to notice or was completely unfazed. It's just as likely the former as the latter. I can see how it could become so normal that maybe he wouldn't think it has anything to do with him.

"Excuse me." I look over and see two girls standing in front of our table. "We didn't want to bother you while you were eating, but…aren't you Luca De Rossi?" one of them asks.

He looks at me and smiles, and I mouth the words, 'I told you.'

He laughs, then turns back to them.

"No," he says. "It's not me. See, I have a coat. That guy would look fucking ridiculous in a coat. My girlfriend would make fun of him."

I almost spit my drink. I laugh, and they look back and forth between the two of us, trying to figure out if it's a joke.

"I'm kidding," he says. "It's me."

"Oh, I thought so," one of them says. "Can you take a selfie with us?"

"Sure," he says. "What are your names?"

"I'm Kelly, and this is Arya. We'll be at the show tomorrow."

"Awesome," he says, standing. "Nice to meet you." He stands in the middle of the two of them, and Arya holds her phone out in front of them.

"Do you want me to take it?" I ask.

"Oh! Sure, that would be great," she says, handing me her phone.

I take a couple of photos and then hand it back to her.

"Thank you so much. Are you really his girlfriend?"

"Yes," Luca says.

"Um, not really," I tell her. "I did kind of make fun of his coat, though. On accident."

"What do you mean not really? We're on a date," Luca says.

"This is our first date."

"She's lying; she's just shy. She lives with me," he tells them.

They laugh, then look to me.

I shrug. "He lives with a lot of people."

"You're fucking me."

"You fuck all the people you live with."

He scoffs. "Not all of them. I don't fuck my brother. I've never fucked Eli. I don't fuck Alana anymore, either—I think she's afraid of me."

"Wow. Okay."

"Do you really drink blood?" Kelly asks.

Shit. They're still standing there?

"Sometimes," he says.

The server shows up to take our plates, and I'm grateful for the interruption.

"Thank you," he says, then waves the girls off and tells them to have a good night.

"Can I get you guys anything else? Another round of drinks?" the server asks as they go.

"Please," he says.

She walks away, and he reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "I miss you."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "We've barely been apart for the last twenty-four hours.

"Yeah, but you're all the way over there. Come sit on my lap."

I shake my head. "No way. Everyone is already staring at us. This isn't a nightclub. It'll look like I'm making a scene."

"A scene?"

"Yeah, about being here with you."

Luca smiles, then gets up, moves to my side of the booth, and pulls me into his lap. "Well, then I'll make the scene."

He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me slowly, sensually.

"We should go back to the hotel," I tell him.

"And then what?" he asks, moving onto my neck.

"I'm not sore anymore," I whisper. "You don't have to be careful with me; I don't want you to be."

"You're going to figure out that you shouldn't say things like that to me in public," Luca says. He slips his hand underneath my shirt, then sinks his teeth into my shoulder. I suck in a breath and push his head back.

"Ow…Luca!"

He nuzzles back into my neck and tightens his hold on me. "I want to hurt you. I want to taste blood again. Do you want to taste mine, too? I'll let you."

Yes.

"I'll be right back…then we can leave."

I kiss him, then walk to the restroom. When I finish, I wash my hands, run my fingers through my hair a few times, and reapply my lipstick.

Then, the lights go out. I freeze in the pitch-black space, waiting for them to turn back on.

"What the fuck?" I say aloud.

I cap the lipstick and feel around the countertop until I find my purse. I stuff it inside when I hear footsteps behind me.

"I know it's you," I tell him. "I can smell you. You always smell good."

I feel his body against my back. He pushes his fingers through my hair, then wraps it around his fist and starts dragging me backward. I struggle to stay on my feet when he throws me into a stall and locks it behind him.

"Someone is going to come in," I tell him as he rips my jeans down my legs.

"I fucking hate these things."

"I love them; you bought them for me."

"When we go out, you need to wear something that makes it easier for me to get inside you," Luca says. He takes his cock out, turns me around and pushes me down toward the toilet. With my ass in the air, I grab the sides of the seat and his fingers dig into my hips as he thrusts into me.

"Fuck!"

"You can't say shit like that to me in public unless you want to get fucked," he growls. He fucks me hard and fast, the sound of his skin hitting mine when he slams into me and my cries echoing through the space. "You can't walk away from me and leave me hard like that…"

"Oh my god!" I scream.

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry! Fuck!"

"I need more of your pussy on my dick," he groans. He releases my hips, and I feel his hands in my hair again. He grabs a handful of my hair at the scalp in both of his hands, pulling my head back and forcing me to arch my back more while he slams into me.

And it hurts, but it's a delicious hurt. His cock hits me just right, and pleasure builds in my lower gut while he manhandles me. I feel him so deep inside me that I literally shudder. Goosebumps run over my body, and tears leak from the corners of my eyes as he thrusts into me over and over again. I don't even care when I hear voices and the lights flick on, then quickly turn back off; whoever it was apparently decides to retreat from the bathroom once they hear us and realize what's happening.

One of the hands in my hair releases its hold, moves to the small of my back, and pushes down hard, making me arch in an unnatural way.

"Luca!" I scream, gritting my teeth. "Fuck!"

But his dick feels so good—hurts so good—that I'm almost sobbing when I come around him.

"Oh, fuck, Teagan," he rasps. "You feel so good soaking and squeezing my dick. Such a good fucking girl for me."

"Luca…oh my god…"

When I feel like I can't take it anymore, his thrusts become shorter, quicker bursts. He groans loudly, then buries himself deep, deep inside me and fills me with cum.

I stand up and lean against the stall wall when he's finished. Luca reaches down and pulls my underwear up my legs.

"Don't clean it up," he says, his tone soft and gentle. Then, he does the same with my jeans. "I want to see it when we get back to the hotel." He kisses me lightly on the lips. "Then, I'm going to fuck you again however you want, and I'll clean you up in the shower. Okay, baby?"

I nod, still breathless. "Yeah. Okay."

He trails kisses up my jawbone and says into my ear, "I love you, Teagan."

Oh, shit. This again. His drug of choice, as Declan said.

"Luca, don't," I say. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

I place my hands on his face and look up at him. "You don't know me."

He shakes his head. "That's not true."

"Declan said that you don't know how to love someone—that you're incapable of it. You're just…confused."

"He said that?"

I swallow hard and nod.

Luca runs his hand through his hair and sighs. "Well, he's wrong," he says. "Is wanting love really that bad? Wanting to take care of someone, and have them take care of you, too? Wanting someone to need you?"

"It's okay," I tell him. "I don't—I don't need you to love me. I'm fine without it."

"I'll prove it to you," he says.

I smile sadly, unsure of what to say. "Okay."

It's pouring when we leave the restaurant. We get into the back of a taxi, and I slide all the way over under his arm.

"Don't leave me, Teagan," he says again. "If you stay with us, we'll take care of you. We'll be your family. You can have whatever you want. You can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? What about Declan's rules?"

"Mmm…you'll have to follow those. But they're just to keep us safe, to take care of us. You'll like it—having someone taking care of you—once you get used to it."

I rest my head against his shoulder and take his hand, lacing his fingers with mine.

"Okay," I tell him. "I'll stay."

Just for a little while.

When we get back to the hotel, we fuck, and then he cleans me and holds me. He tells me things that can't possibly be true; he bites my tit hard enough that I bleed and drinks from it, and a dark purple bruise forms around the teeth marks.

He gives me a knife and tells me I can cut him anywhere, and I drag it down his sternum before cutting him just below his waistline. I lick it and drink from it until his cock is hard again, and then I sink my pussy onto him, kissing him, letting him bite my lip again and letting our blood mix together on our lips.

I don't think about the rest of it—the bodies, the logistics, or the fact that my sudden attachment to Luca doesn't make sense and can't possibly be healthy.

And if I don't think about how wrong it is, none of it can make me feel any less human.

It's late morning when Luca wakes me. I roll onto my back and face him.

"Hey," he says. "I'm going to the gym for a while, and then we have to go down to the venue for a bit. I probably won't see you until later tonight. But…everyone else is staying on this floor. And I put their numbers in your phone."

But how did he…

He unlocked it with my face while I was sleeping. I decide not to address it.

"Okay," I tell him. "My head hurts. I need coffee."

"Order whatever you want."

"I'll probably just go downstairs. I don't think I can wait."

"Okay," he says. He kisses me on the lips. "I'll see you later, Teagan."

"Bye."

I watch the door close behind him, then pull myself out of bed. I go to the bathroom, pull my hair into a knot on top of my head, slip on a hoodie and some tights, and leave the room.

I step into the elevator, and before the doors close, a hand shoots out, stopping them, and they open again.

Alana steps into the elevator, dragging a suitcase behind her.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"I'm leaving," she says.

"What? What do you mean? Like forever?"

"Yep."

She stares straight ahead. Sunglasses cover her eyes, but a tear runs down her cheek.

The doors open, and she steps out. I follow, grabbing her by the arm. "Well, wait! Why? They'll be upset."

"Will they?" she asks. She shakes her arm free of my grip and lowers her voice to a whisper-hiss. "I'm leaving because I don't want to end up like Layla. I'm in love with him, and I don't want to fucking die, okay? And if you were smart, you'd leave, too. He's moving on to you, you know. I can see it. I recognize it. It fucking happened to me, too."

"What are you talking about?"

"Declan," she says. "God, are you stupid? I'm talking about Declan."

"Declan isn't moving on to me," I tell her. "He can't stand me."

She raises an eyebrow, looking me up and down. "I suggest you start paying attention. Declan won't just fuck you and cage you like Luca; he's in it for the mindfuck. He'll work his way under your skin, so slowly at first that you won't even notice it—not until he lives there. And then you'll be in trouble because once he knows he owns you, he'll get bored, and he'll want the same thing he got from Bridget and Layla."

But she's wrong, right? Declan isn't trying to get under my skin.

But my mind replays the events of the past week—the times when he singled me out, when he got me alone and shared secrets with me, when he threw that guy out of the party after he knocked me over.

When he brought me down to the library and talked to me about books.

When he spanked me in the dining room and then told me if I stayed, he could give me what I really wanted.

"Putting it all together now, aren't you? Maybe you're not as dumb as you look."

"No," I tell her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't," she says. "I'm leaving. This family is a lot smaller than the one I joined. You're dead if you stay. Luca is going to kill you…or Declan is going to make you kill yourself."

Behind me, I hear the elevator ding. Alana looks over my shoulder and whatever she sees makes her turn and almost run toward the front doors.

Behind me, Hazel, River, and Brady step out of the elevator.

"Hey," Hazel says. "Where's she going?"

"Um…she said she's leaving…like for good."

"What?! Why would she do that? Alana, wait!" she calls as she runs out the doors after her.

"What happened?" River asks. "Did she say anything?"

"Um, no," I lie. "She didn't say anything. She just…said she was leaving."

"Well, Brady, you should go after her!" River says. "You're her best friend! She'll listen to you."

Brady shakes his head, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and walks off. "No."

"What? What do you mean? Why not?"

"I can't," he says.

"But…" Tears well in her eyes, and I watch her run out the front doors, too. Once they close behind her, I follow Brady into the hotel restaurant. I fill a cup of coffee, pile some food onto a plate, and then spot him at a table in the back corner.

"Can I sit here?"

"Of course," he says. "Why would you even ask?"

I pull out a chair and sit down. "I'm not sure if you like me."

"I'm just tired, Teagan. It's got nothing to do with you."

"Okay." I take a drink of my coffee, grab my fork, and stab at my sad hotel eggs. Brady reaches for me and takes my left hand in his.

"I'm sorry, Teagan," Brady says. "When I look at you, I just think about digging that grave. That's all."

"I'm sorry, too," I say softly.

I follow his eyes to the entrance and see Hazel and River crossing the room. They sit beside us; River hangs her head and weeps with her head in her hands, and Hazel wipes away a tear from under her eye.

"She just got in a cab and left," Hazel says. "She said she loved us and that she was sorry, and then she just left."

"Well, we're all free to come and go as we please, right?" Brady says. "We have to respect her decision."

"You knew she was going to do this," Hazel says, her tone accusatory.

Brady shakes his head. "No, I didn't. I knew she was upset. She slept with Rhett and me last night; she was crying. She just said it was about Layla."

Hazel turns to me next. "Well, she was talking to you, Teagan. What did she say?"

"She said that I should leave, too."

Hazel scoffs. "Unbelievable. I literally can't fucking believe this. I'm going to text Declan."

"Do you think she'll come back?" River asks Brady. "Maybe she'll change her mind."

He looks at her like that's the dumbest shit he's ever heard. "No, River. I don't think she's coming back. Just wish her well and be happy for her."

She turns to me. "Are you staying?"

"Yeah. I'm staying."

She rests her head on the table. "Thank god."

Hazel sets her phone down on the table forcefully.

"What did Declan say?" River asks.

"He just…said what Brady said. He said it was fine," Hazel tells her. "I'm going to get us some food. Okay, babe?"

"Okay," River says. "Fuck."

We eat quietly for the most part, and when I go to return my tray and refill my coffee, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out and see Blakely's name flashing across the screen. I swipe to answer and bring it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"What the fuck is going on?" she says. "Do you check your texts at all?"

"Um, not since last night, why?"

"Well, check them now," she says.

I sigh, then bring up my home screen and click on the messages app. I click on her name, and I'm assaulted by a barrage of messages, but my eyes settle on an article titled "Who is Luca De Rossi's New Girlfriend?" with a picture of the two of us kissing at the restaurant last night.

Shit.

"Okay…" I say. "What's your question?"

"My question is what the fuck is going on? That's you in that picture. The last I heard from you, you said you would be unavailable for a few days but that you were positive these people were murderers, Teagan. Now—what? He's your boyfriend? That's what the article says—the source says they overheard him saying the two of you live together. How the fuck is Luca De Rossi your boyfriend?"

The last part stings a little; I don't miss her subtext, but I don't address it. "I was wrong, okay? I was wrong about them, and you were right. I've just read too many books. But…I'm having a good time, and I want to hang out with them a little longer."

"I'm sure you do, but you can't."

"Pretty sure I can," I tell her.

"You're just into it, aren't you? That was always it. You're into the fucking blood and shit. God, Teagan, I—"

I'm starting to think Declan might be right about cell phones.

"I have to go, Blake. I'm with my friends right now."

"Your friends? What—"

"Bye," I say before ending the call. Sighing, I shove it back into the front pocket of my hoodie.

"You okay?" Hazel says. "That looked intense."

"Yeah," I tell her. "It was my sister; she's always intense, nothing new."

"Well, we're going to go upstairs to get ready. We're going to explore the market and downtown for a while before heading over to the venue. Do you want to come with us?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay, great," she says, and we walk toward the elevator. "We're in 763 right now. Just come down when you're ready."

We move in opposite directions when we get to the seventh floor, and once inside the room, I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my cell phone. I finally read the rest of my sister's text messages and listen to my mom's voicemails. They all pretty much say the same thing.

Come home, you're stupid!

That's what Alana told me, too.

I bring up the picture Declan took of me on the ladder in the library and think again about what she said. I post it to my socials with a message that I'm going to be taking a break for a while.

When I meet River and Hazel in their room later, I don't bring the phone with me.

I'm not sure I need it anymore.