His Twisted Heart by Ellie R Hunter
Chapter Two
Victoria
Icreep out of Luca’s room, wanting to avoid any awkwardness, or see any regret in his eyes.
Slipping out the side door, the sun assaults me. It’s extraordinarily warm out this early in the morning.
With a spring in my step, I twirl the flower I picked up off of Luca’s floor and tuck it into my braid. Everything is different. The world looks brighter, sharper, cleaner, and the only reason I can think of for that to be is because I’m happy.
“Where did you come from?”
At the sound of Cas’s gruff voice, I stop and spin around to see him standing with Sparky by the garages.
“Um… I was just taking a walk.”
I don’t think I’ve ever lied to anyone in the club before, because I’ve never needed to. But there’s no way I’m going to tell the president I’ve just spent the night with his son.
“Victoria Simmons, I know you’re lying to me right now, but I’ll let it slide this once. Just don’t walk near the front gates.”
“I won’t,” I blurt out quickly.
Heading for the house, it’s Sparky who shouts out my name next. Trying to compose myself, I take a deep breath and turn around.
“Yeah?”
“If it was my boy’s room you just left, don’t go expecting flowers and shit.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You have nothing to worry about. I have standards, and they’re a lot higher than JJ.”
Cas’s laugh echoes through the quiet morning.
Before anyone else can stop me, I dart into the main house and close the door behind me, only to bump straight into Alannah. Why is everyone awake so early?
“Good morning,” I chirp, ready to rush up the stairs.
“Good morning to you, too.” She smiles coyly. “Or is this you only just getting in?”
My cheeks are burning. I swear, the universe is against me. First Cas, now Alannah. Is Leo going to pop up next, forcing me to confront the whole family?
“I went for a walk.”
Like her husband, she knows I’m lying. But, unlike Cas, she doesn’t call me on it.
“Well, your hair is a little dishevelled from your walk. I’d jump in the shower before everyone else wakes up and rushes the bathroom.”
Like my mom, Alannah has a knack for knowing everything that goes on around here, but there’s no way in hell she can find out about this.
Not meeting her eyes, I jog up the stairs and lock myself in the bathroom.
Turning on the shower, I undress while the water heats up and catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. There’s a bruise above my left breast, and another on my hip. Did Luca do this? I tend to bruise easily, but the placements are just so random.
He was rougher than I imagined he would be, but I don’t recall feeling any pain from his touch. To me, it was everything and more.
Having evidence of our night together on my body makes me smile. I left his room, content with sharing one night and walking away, but I was a fool to think that would be enough.
I already want more.
Being on lockdown has never bothered me. There’s always someone around, so you never feel lonely. When I walk into the bar, looking for my dad, I have to push my way through a crowd of people to find him.
Sitting with my grandpa, Dad smiles when he sees me walking toward their table.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Dad. I know we’re not allowed to leave, but if I don’t water my plants, they’re going to die. Can you drive me home, please?”
Dad rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.
“We’re not letting you out of here while there’s danger out there coming at us from all directions,” Grandpa interjects. “But if you write down exactly what you need done, I’ll have someone go out to the house and do it for you.”
Watering my flowers and plants are a science, each one needing more or less than the other. However, knowing better than to argue, I mutter, “Sure.”
Finding some paper and a pen, I settle down at the bar, close my eyes, and mentally walk around my greenhouse as I scribble down my instructions. My mom’s thing is looking after her family, where my dad and Grandpa are all about looking after the club. My brothers are all about themselves and causing trouble for their own amusement. My thing is botany. One, I think there’s nothing more beautiful than Mother Earth’s creations. Second, they bring me a sense of peace, growing something from a seedling and watching it bloom. This world can be ugly and violent, but the presence of flowers and plants makes it a lot less scary. Well, to me they do, anyway.
“How long after I fell asleep did you leave?”
Luca asks, leaning against the bar opposite of me. He looks good in his tight tee, clinging to his biceps, and his jeans hug his hips deliciously.
I smother my smile by biting my bottom lip. “I thought we were never going to talk about what happened?”
“I guess we are.”
So much for him being firm about acting like it never happened.
“I left just after eight. Why? Did you miss me?”
Normal people would probably laugh at my sarcasm, but not Luca. Instead, he scowls at me, trying his best to seem unbothered.
“Not at all. But I have been thinking, and maybe you were right. We could help each other through the boredom of lockdown.”
He’s serious, and I can’t help but wonder why the hell the universe is stepping up for me now? Why would it hand me Luca on a silver platter when it knows he’ll end up breaking my heart? Last night, he admitted to thinking of Sara every single day. I gave up on any fantasies of having anything with him because I knew I couldn’t compete with a memory of a girl he still loves. As much as I want to have him again, I can’t. I can live with our night together and carry on, but anything more, I’d catch more feelings than I should.
“Sorry, Jackson. I don’t need any repeats.”
Grabbing my list, I slip off the stool as he comes around the bar, stepping in front of me.
“What the fuck, Tor? It was your idea first. What gives?”
Shrugging, I look him dead in the eye. “Careful, Luca. You’re starting to sound clingy.”
Taking a step back, he spits, “Fuck you.”
“Been there, fucked you. Hopefully, I don’t get the STDs.”
He moves to the left, I move to the right, and I don’t look back when I hear him kick a stool to the floor.
Handing Grandpa the paper, he leans around me and calls over a prospect while raising his empty beer bottle.
My brothers are prospects, but it would be a cold day in Hell before they got someone a beer. The prospect, Tal—I think is his name—comes over with a fresh beer, and Grandpa jerks his chin at my list on the table.
“My granddaughter needs her flowers and shit watered. Take Kyle with you and drive out to the Simmons’ place. Out back, you’ll find her greenhouse. Go in, follow her instructions to the letter, then get back here.”
The prospect’s eyes dart between Grandpa and me, his eyes wide.
“But we’re on lockdown.”
“I’m well aware, motherfucker. I’ve given you an order. Now carry it out, and keep yourself alive.”
With a flick of his hand, he dismisses the prospect.
“If they kill even a single plant, I want them hurt,” I warn.
“I hear ya, sweetheart. Here, sit down. I want to ask you something.”
I pull out a chair, drowning out the conversations going on around us.
“What’s your plan for when you graduate?”
Not this again.
I sigh in frustration. Mom’s been asking me this for weeks. Dad doesn’t normally give a shit. Or, if he does, he doesn’t show it.
“I have no idea. Why?”
He lifts his shoulder nonchalantly. “I just wanna know what’s going through your head. You got a problem with that?”
Rolling my eyes, I giggle. “No, Grandpa. As soon as I know, you’ll know. Is that good enough?”
“That’s all I ask. But if you end up wanting to go off to college, don’t hesitate to say so. I’ll help your parents cover the costs.”
Standing, I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Most people around the club are afraid of him, but to me, he’s like a soft, cuddly kitten.
“I’ll catch you later.”
“See ya, sweetheart.”
Weaving through the brothers and their old ladies, I head out into the quiet night and walk around to the back of the bar. Sitting up on the picnic table, I lie back and look up at the full moon and twinkling stars.
There’re theories that a full moon can affect human behaviour. That it can induce insane actions, such as sleepwalking, and even violence. Most people look up at the moon and just see a bright white circle, but there’s so much more to it. Humans believe we rule this planet, but given an inch, nature would take a mile and reclaim the Earth for itself.
“You sacked me off to stare at the moon?”
The bench creaks under Luca’s weight as he takes a seat, resting his legs under the table. In the next breath, his fingers are trailing over my midriff.
“Did you know a full moon can apparently affect a person’s behaviour?”
He snorts. “I thought that was werewolves?”
“It’s been studied,” I continue, choosing to ignore him. “I think the full moon is affecting you tonight, because last night, you were clear our hookup would be a onetime occurrence, never to be spoken of again.”
“What can I say? I changed my mind. Not because of the moon, but because of my dick.”
Sitting up, I shuffle my legs over the side of the table while hitching up my skirt, and slip down onto his lap.
He’s immediately on alert, his head darting left and right, looking to see who’s around.
“You want to do this again, Luca? Do me here.” Rolling my hips, I grind against him, feeling him hardening beneath me.
“Are you crazy?”
“Are you scared?” I tease. “Or would you be embarrassed by getting caught with me? I don’t mind being a secret—you don’t want to be the topic of gossip—but I won’t be a secret because you’re ashamed.”
Leaning back, he fiddles with his button and pulls down his zipper.
“Lift your skirt up around your hips.”
When I do, he slides my panties to the side and urges me to raise up enough for him to align himself at my entrance.
I slide down slowly, revelling in the feel of him filling me as he hisses in pleasure. Rising up, I slam my hips down, repeating the movement and rolling my hips while picking up momentum. I don’t care if anyone comes out. With my skirt covering everything we want to keep private, it’s not like they’ll be able to see anything.
“Fucking hell, Tor. You feel so good.”
Continuing to ride him hard and fast under the full moon, out in the open where we can be caught at any moment, is enough to tip me over the edge, seconds before he shudders and releases beneath me.
Once we finish riding the wave of our orgasms, we sit in silence for a few moments, not moving. Not until he rests his cheek against mine and whispers, “I’ll be the one who says when this is done.”