Page 81 of No Control

She laughs. “No, I just needed to get your attention.” I cock a brow. “My attention?”

“Yeah, and your little toy out of the way,” she gleans, her face taking a jealous turn. “You don’t belong with someone like her.”

Oh fuck no. What is this? A spurned lover?

“You saved my life,” she continues, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, “and while I might have a few years on you...”

Like a decade or two.

“I think we could make this work. After all, my husband was an evil man.”

Something is off in her voice. I divert my gaze as she reaches to flip her hair over her shoulder and stands to her feet. She has no idea what the hell she’s doing—or maybe she does.

She’s not Lydia.

And even at our very worst, her being locked in a room, I won’t take someone else. I hear the zipper of her dress, but I don’t look up from the pistol in my hands.

Fuck her.

“Come on,” she purrs, the material dropping around her feet.

Nope.

“This is a mistake,” I snarl, rage boiling in my chest. “I’m not going to do this. Get fucking dressed.”

“Come do it yourself,” she teases. I suddenly wish I hadn’t locked Luca out. I wish he was storming through the door behind me. “Let me fuck you the way you deserve, Henry. You need a woman who’s broken for real. Not a slut who writes stories about women like me, wishing she was me.”

Never. I’d never wish she was anything other than herself.

But is this what being broken does to a woman? I shake my head, warring with myself as my gun raises. I hear the squeak from her throat. Guilt swirls in my head.

“He had more balls than you, you know. He knew I was poisoning him. Slowly, overtime. You took my moment from me, and now you owe me. You'll be mine. Get on your knees and—”

I only bow for Lydia.

Two shots sound.

And she falls to the floor.

The door opens behind me, as if on cue, and Luca steps in, his eyes wide as our gazes meet. “What’d you do? Make her undress?”

I shake my head, full of disgust. “She called my woman a slut.”

“Tends to be what sluts do,” Luca chuckles, stepping over the bleeding body. He remains there for a few moments, before using a gloved hand to brush the skin of her neck. “Cyanide.”

“What?”

“She’s got cyanide on her skin—and a rash. She was going to kill you…and herself.“ Luca turns to me, a grin flashing across his face. “What a way to go out. Good thing you’re not a horny bastard.”

“No kidding,” I grunt. I stay back from the body as he grabs a sheet off the bed and covers her. I pick up the shell casings from my gun, shoving them into my pocket. I had resorted to the fastest way to get rid of her, instead of opting for my blade.

And it’s a good thing.

My mind flashes to Lydia’s face as she cut me open with the same knife in my jeans. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use it again. It’s sacred now.

“I’ll call for cleanup.” Luca grabs my shoulders and turns me toward the exit. “I can tell you need to get back to Lydia.”

I don’t argue with him, but don’t indulge in any details. I have no idea what I’m going back to. We leave the house in disarray and climb into the Tahoe.

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