Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
2
DOMINIC
It feels like someone has taken a shovel and hit me square in the chest. I try to take a deep breath, but no matter what I do, nothing can calm my racing heart. Luciana Raven. She’s the woman that I’ve loved most of my life but also the woman that I spent years trying to forget.
As soon as I pulled up behind the car, I knew it was her. She’s the same, but different. She has the same curvy body, same long brown hair that glints with red highlights in the sun. But even when sitting in my truck, I could see all the ways she was different too. It wasn’t until I was walking toward her that I saw the bruise on her face, and an anger like I’ve never felt before came over me.
I want to kill whoever thought it was okay to put hands on her, and at the same time, I want to pull her against me, hold on to her, and never let her go.
I repeat the question. “Who the fuck hit you, Luciana?”
She angles her head as if she’s trying to hide the bruise from me, but it’s too late. This image will stay in my head forever. “Don’t act like you care, Dominic.”
She flips her hair as she turns to walk away from me. I track behind her as she goes to the hood of the car and is about to shut it. I put my hand up to stop it from closing. With our hands on the hood, we stare at each other. It feels like electricity is zapping between us. Every emotion crosses her face, but it seems she decides to stick with anger. “Let go of my hood.”
“Do you want me to see what is wrong with your car?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want you to do anything for me.”
“Lucky—”
She cuts me off. “Don’t call me that.”
I’ve always called her Lucky. When we were younger, all our friends called her Lucy, but I wanted to have a special name for her, so I started calling her Lucky. She was always beautiful, smart, optimistic, and carefree. I called her Lucky because anyone that knew her was lucky to be close to her. “Lucy, listen, let me help you.”
She looks as if she’s on the verge of tears, and I swear if one teardrop rolls down her face, I’m not going to be able to resist holding her. I’ve never been able to handle it when she’s been upset, and it looks like nothing has changed in that department.
I reach for her, and she steps back, holding her hands up, palms out at me. “Don’t touch me.”
There’s real fear in her eyes, and it guts me. She has to know that I would never physically hurt her. I match her stance and stand perfectly still. “Just let me help you get your car running and then you can be on your way…”
She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a nod.
I turn away because looking at her is just too painful. The memories of us together and how it all ended come back to me, and it might as well have happened yesterday instead of seventeen years ago because it’s still fresh.
I check different fluid levels. “It just stopped? Did it make any noise or anything?”
When she doesn’t answer me, I look at her over my shoulder. It’s obvious she wants nothing to do with me, but she reluctantly answers. “I don’t know. It started to stutter like it was running out of gas, but I just filled up in Jasper. I was barely able to get it pulled off to the side of the road.”
I put a hand on the raised hood and lean against it. It’s the fuel pump. I know it is, and I know it’s not going to be a quick fix. I’m readying myself to break the news to Lucy because I know she’s not going to want to accept help from me, but there’s no way I’m just going to leave her here, stranded.
I lower the hood and then walk around to the driver’s side. I grab the keys that are dangling from the ignition and put them in the front pocket of my jeans. Lucy follows me. “What are you doing?”
Without looking at her, I grab some of her bags from the back of her car and start carrying them to my truck. “It’s the fuel pump. I can fix it, but I have to tow it to the shop. I’ll have to drop off the van I’m towing first, so I’ll take you wherever you need to go and then come back and get your car.”
“No,” she says. “I mean, no thank you. I don’t want your help.”
I ignore her and stuff her things in the back seat of my truck before going back to her car for more. Her car is stuffed full of bags and suitcases, and there’s a flutter in my chest as I wonder if she’s moving back for good.