Catch Me: Time After Time Page 14

  Fuck me sideways! How did I go from a lonely, scared, traumatized, pathetic life to this? And how am I not a complete wreck? Time travel, vampires, shifters, and a threesome in ten days and now a possible foursome? I should be a quivering ball of a mess huddled in a corner but instead…instead, I’m fucking happier than I’ve ever been in my life. There is literally nowhere that I’d rather be than in this time and place with these men.

  I must doze off for quite a while because when I wake up it’s later in the afternoon. It’s crazy how many naps I end up having since I landed here. I can only assume it’s because I feel safe and my body is making up for the many years that I would barely sleep through the night.

  As I get dressed in one of the new outfits I think about that. I feel safe here. Not once have I twitched for my knife or gun that I always carry back home. Not only that but I wasn’t scared of the four men right from the start. Usually, I would flinch when anyone tried to touch me and I certainly don’t trust any men other than Diesel and a few old coworkers.

  From the time I landed here though, I didn’t fear them or flinch away from them. I just climbed onto that horse and left my fate in their hands. As I study my new look in the mirror I shake my head. Maybe, just maybe, there’s something bigger playing a hand in my life. Maybe there is fate or karma or God and they decided I needed a break in life. I don’t know how it happened but I’m incredibly grateful that it did.

  I leave my room with a bounce in my step and wander around the huge house peeking into rooms I haven’t been in yet to kill some time. I’m not really in the mood to go to the library and read or to work out in the training hall again. I turn down a hallway I haven’t been down before and hear the faint notes of a song playing that definitely doesn’t belong in this era so I keep going as the music gets clearer. I’ve kind of lost custody of my phone as the wolves are obsessed with the music and pictures on it. A smile spreads across my face when I remember how amazed and then addicted they became when I let them read one of my paranormal romance ebooks downloaded on the Kindle app and then how they re-enacted one of the steamy scenes with me. I’m waiting for a quiet night to share some of the movies I have downloaded on my phone to really blow their minds.

  There’s a set of double doors at the end of the hall that are firmly closed but I can hear Wicked Games by Chris Isaak clearly through them. I frown at the choice of song as I knock on the door. It’s a sad, sad song that is hauntingly beautiful but I hope it’s not how Luca feels. I’ve picked up a few things from him and the others that tell me he has had a tragic past that haunts him. I knock again but after a few moments I crack the door open and stick my head in to call out thinking he can’t hear my knocking over the music.

  His back is to me and his hands are a blur as they move over a half-formed statue. When my eyes slide away from him and take in the rest of the room my mouth O’s in surprise and my feet move deeper into the room without conscious thought. The large room’s walls and ceiling are made up of glass so it is very bright but it’s what fills the space that sucker punches me right in the heart.

  There are at least fifty finished statues shoved against the glass walls and every one of them is of a man in agony. They’re so lifelike that I can feel the pain radiating off them. The worst part is that I can see the resemblance to Luca in every face that stares back at me. My heart hurts that he has such pain trapped inside of him. I know what that feels like but this, this is a whole different level of pain. I turn to look at him just as the song comes to an end and the words just slip out of me in a choked gasp.

  “Oh, Luca…”

  His reaction is instant. His body is almost blurred as he swings my way with a snarl, his arm cocked as if to hit out with a clay-covered fist. I’m shocked that I don’t flinch away but instead take a step towards him. I see the moment he realizes what he’s done as shame flashes across his face and his arm drops to his side. Cindy Lauper’s Time After Time starts playing from my phone and I realize he’s got my retro love song playlist going.

  He makes a move towards the phone to shut it off but I stop him by calling out, “Siri, pause music.”

  The silence in the room is thick for a few moments before he clears his throat.

  “I apologize. I was lost in the clay and didn’t hear you come in. Please know, I would never hurt you.”

  He looks absolutely miserable and he won’t meet my eyes so I take a few steps closer.

  “Luca – Luca, look at me,” I tell him and have to swallow the gasp at the shame I see in his eyes when he finally lifts them to me.

  I want to rush the last few feet between us and throw my arms around him to try and ease his mind but I know from my own trauma that the last thing I ever wanted was to be touched. Instead, I let out a deep breath and start to speak.

  “The day I traveled here, a friend called out to me. A bunch of times he said, but I was lost in my head and didn’t hear him so when he put his hand on my shoulder to get my attention I almost broke his face with my fist.” I take another step toward him and try and convey my understanding of what just happened. “I understand your reaction because that’s how I reacted most of the time before coming here. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Luca.”

  His brow furrows and he sucks in his lower lip before turning away from me to pick up a rag and clean the clay from his hands.

  “I’m sorry I took your device. The music, the music on it is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Some of the songs, I feel them so deeply. They make me feel and remember things long forgotten.”

  I smile. “Then I’m glad. Music is supposed to touch and fuel your soul just like art.” I turn and gesture towards the many statues. “This art, is it what’s in your soul? Do you live with such pain, Luca?” I ask quietly.

  His eyes drop once again and he scrubs harder at the clay clinging to his fingers. I feel terrible for asking him such a prying question so I shift away from it. “Tell me something happy from your life - something from before. You’re originally from Spain? I’ve always wanted to travel there to see its beauty.”

  At first, I don’t think he’ll answer me as he goes to a basin of water and properly washes the clay off. We’ve had so many conversations on our daily walks but they’ve almost all been about what happens in the future. What strides mankind makes between now and my time. He’s always full of questions but he’s never really told me anything about himself or his own history. When he finally starts to talk I almost have to strain to hear him so I move closer.

  “I was born the youngest son of five. My family were simple farmers. We grew many crops but olives were my papa’s passion. He had dreams of building an empire with his liquid gold, as he called it. My two oldest brothers were content to follow along in his footsteps and my middle brothers both joined the military. I had no interest in either. I was content to create with the clay I would dig up from one spot on our land. I was only seventeen when my father took me with him to Seville to sell casks of pressed oil. He was fast losing patience with me not contributing to the family’s wealth so he set an ultimatum on me. I was to bring my best creations to Seville and try to sell them. If no one wanted them then I would leave my childish art dreams behind and get to work, either working the farm or joining the military like my brothers.”

  Luca turns to me with a small smile of remembrance on his face.

  “Imagine his surprise when all my pieces sold the first day at the market. When patrons began asking if I would take commissions we both knew I would not be returning to the farm with him.” The smile drops away and a look of sadness washes across his face. “That was the last time I saw him or any of my family. I always meant to go back to visit but there always seemed to be a new piece to be created.”

  He shakes his head and sends me a wistful look before turning away again as he continues.

  “Seville was full of artists of every kind and we were all so passionate about everything. We would lose hours debating when we weren’t creating our masterpieces.
We were so wrapped up in being young and free that we didn’t see what was forming right in front of us. When the Inquisition began, most of us laughed it off even as some of our friends disappeared. With the naiveté of youth, we believed ourselves to be untouchable. By the time we saw what was really happening, it was too late to run.”

  He sits down on a stool and looks over at his half-completed work and sighs.

  “There wasn’t much that was fun after that I’m afraid.”

  I instinctively know that’s all he will tell me so I smile in understanding and wander around his studio, now and then reaching out to run a hand over some of his work. I wish I could help him the way he has helped me. He’s only ever shown kindness and patience to me and I hate the pain I see in his beautiful grey eyes. Deciding to try and push a little bit, I turn back to him.

  “Do you know what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is?”

  Luca

  I frown at the question even as I shake my head. The things I’ve shared with her surprise me. I never talk about my past, with anyone. Not even Sebastian. It has been decades since I’ve even thought about my family, let alone spoke to another about them.

  Eden pulls at something inside of me that has been long dormant. I’m helpless to stop it even though I know it will only cause me fresh pain. I’ve worked so hard to block off all my emotions, convinced I would surely go mad if I allowed myself to feel as I once did. The only time I allow them to escape is when I’m creating. I let them flow out of me into the piece I’m working on and it helps ease the pressure of repressing them.

  “It’s a mental affliction that happens to even the strongest people after a trauma or series of traumas in my case. My parents and sister died in a horrific accident. It broke me, at least it felt like it did at the time. As I was trying to deal with the grief of it, the man I was married to betrayed me in so many ways. He used my pain against me like a weapon and I had no defenses to stop him. I was lucky, my Aunt Adera got me away from him and I slowly started to heal, to take back control of my life. Things were getting better for me but then my partner, Sam, and I were attacked by a gang. They killed him in front of me and then toyed and taunted me as they beat me almost to death. It would have been much worse but the police showed up, late to the call but they showed up and the gang ran away. It was three days later when I woke up in the hospital. That’s when I knew what broken really meant.”

  She meets my eyes and I see the shadows there that have slowly been disappearing come flaring back. I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and promise that no one will ever harm her again but I know the monster inside me makes me unworthy of touching her or any return kindness so I stay in place and just listen as she continues.

  “I don’t sleep very well. I have terrible nightmares that force me to relive not only the attack but the aftermath of my family’s deaths. I can’t stand to be touched unless it’s during a sparring match. I flinch and react badly when I’m surprised and I lose myself to a rage haze when I feel threatened.”

  She takes a step towards me and her face crumples just for a moment before she gets control. Her next words have an incredible ache filling my chest.

  “I was so damn lonely, broken, and tired that I just wanted it to end. I wanted to die and I’ve been working up the courage to end my life so the pain will stop. And then, I came here.”

  She takes a few more steps towards me so that her skirts brush against my leg and I’m pinned in place by her shadowed green eyes.

  “I came here and everything changed. Cade, Finn, and you…” She rolls her eyes and huffs out a laugh. “Even Sebastian in his way started to heal me. I wasn’t alone anymore. Here were four men that took me in and kept me safe. Four men who showed me kindness and caring when I so desperately needed it. Cade and Finn sped that healing up even more with our, well, what’s between us now. Spending time with you, our chats during our walks, and the games we play together after supper. The way you went out of your way to give me gowns and comfortable clothing, me a total stranger to you, makes me feel…wanted? Included? I don’t know the right word except to say you help to heal me, Luca, and I wish I could do the same for you.”

  My fingers itch to pull her close to me, to pour my damaged broken soul out to her in the hopes that she could heal me too but I know that’s not possible. She thinks I’m broken because of what’s been done to me but the truth is so much worse. I can’t let her keep trying and I know the way she looks at me will change once she knows but it’s better for her to keep her distance. It’s better to keep her safe from what’s inside of me. I lean towards her and let my monster out enough so that my eyes flare red. Her own grow wide but she doesn’t flinch or step back as she should.

  “I slaughtered hundreds, many who were innocent, in the first two years after Sebastian changed me. I drained them dry and ignored their pleas for mercy. There is no help for me.”

  The stubborn woman keeps a steady gaze with me not reacting at all to my confession. I’m about to snarl at her to get her to understand I am no man to be fixed when she says the one word I don’t expect.

  “Why?”

  I lean back and shake my head. “What do you mean, why?”

  “Why did you kill so many?” She asks in a maddeningly steady voice like she’s asking why the sky is blue instead of why I ruthlessly killed so many. I shove a hand through my hair to keep from shaking her and now it’s my voice that’s unsteady.

  “The first few years after a vampire is turned they have extreme bloodlust that is hard to satisfy. It is a constant need that burns through you and nothing will ease it except feeding. It was all-consuming. The need strips everything good and moral away. The only thing left is the need to satisfy the thirst.”

  She arches one of her perfect dark red eyebrows.

  “So what you’re saying is you had absolutely no control of your actions, then?”

  When my face shows my frustration of her simplifying the horrors I committed, she throws up a hand to stop me from speaking.

  “Answer me this, if you could have stopped yourself from doing it, would you have?”

  This time both my hands sink into my hair as I pull on it and grind out, “Of course I would have stopped myself if I could have!”

  She keeps her expression neutral as she slowly nods. “So you had no control and you couldn’t stop yourself but you blame yourself anyway.” Her eyes narrow. “You aren’t punishing yourself for what you did to those people. You’re punishing yourself for choosing to say yes to Sebastian. You’re punishing yourself for not choosing to die instead. You chose to live, the most basic human instinct, and you’ve been punishing yourself for it ever since.”

  She reaches out slowly as if to a frightened animal and gently caresses my cheek with the back of her fingers before whispering, “I’m so sorry for all the terrible things that happened to you, Luca but I’m glad you chose to live.”

  My eyes drop closed and I allow myself to lean into her touch for the briefest moment before pulling back. I push the stool away from her so I can stand and move away. It’s has been so long since anyone has touched me in kindness that even her simple caress has my entire body aching in need of more. She stays silent as I work at cleaning my tools to give my hands something to do as my mind processes all that she’s said. I’ve spent two hundred years blaming myself for all the lives I took during the bloodlust years and that won’t change but put as bluntly and plainly as she put it shifts my view of it slightly. I do hate myself for not dying. I was pathetically weak when the red-eyed demon offered me the chance to live. In the moment, I barely gave a thought to the consequences of the choice. The sad truth is that had I fully understood what I would become and the atrocities I would commit, I can’t say that I would have been strong enough to choose death instead.

  These thoughts and feelings that I’ve long suppressed are like a smothering weight on me. My skin feels too tight and the room feels too small. I need to leave, go outside where there is more roo
m, more air but I don’t want to leave her. She has shifted something in me and even though I don’t want to talk about this anymore, I still want to have her by my side. I lift the sack of clay to put it away and when I feel how little is left in it, inspiration hits. I lift my gaze to her and find her standing in the same spot quietly watching me with her head tilted to the side as if she’s waiting for what comes next.

  “Eden, would you like to go for a ride with me? I need to place another order for more clay. It’s not far, just to a nearby village.”

  Excitement flashes across her face as she replies. “I would love that! It’s been ten days since I got here and as much as I love being here with all of you, it’d be great to get out and see some different places and faces.”

  “Good. I think some fresh air is just what we need.”

  The sun is bright and the air warm so we don’t bother fetching cloaks for the short ride. I have our gentlest mount saddled for her and we are soon riding towards the small village where I get my clay supplies from. We don’t speak as we ride but it’s a comfortable silence. After the heavy topic we spoke of in my studio I’m glad she doesn’t push further and just seems to enjoy being in my company still. I wish I could have more with her but I’m resigned to just enjoying having her near in any capacity. I find myself watching her face as she studies the landscape and my lips twitch with a smile when the village comes into view and she perks up with a look of delight. I’ve seen the pictures of the city she lives in so I imagine that she would find the small village quaint as it’s so different from what she’s used to.

  We’ve only passed the first few cottages when a trickle of unease skates along my senses. I’ve traveled through this village hundreds of times in the past and always received respected nods and even some smiles on occasion but today as we ride past the residents all stop what they are doing and stare, some with hostility, some with fear and some quickly gather their children and rush into their homes. As a good friend of Sebastian, the Duc de Gaul who manages these lands I’m well known to these people and this isn’t the response my presence should provoke. My right hand drops to my side where I normally would have my sword strapped. I curse under my breath to find it missing. I was in such a rush to get out into the open that I did not think to arm myself. I glance over at Eden and see the delight she had has changed to confused nervousness at the way the villagers are staring at her.