“Thank you.” I pick up the glass and take a drink.
He doesn’t speak through breakfast but eats while looking at his phone. For the first time, I wonder about him. How did he end up as the Handler? Did he have a family? Did he ever get sick of it? Did he have a girlfriend? The last thought has my face flaming because I don’t like the idea of him having a girlfriend. If he did, I highly doubt he would spank her as he had done to me last night.
Silver eyes cut across to me, and I immediately look away. We finish eating in silence, and once we are done, Lucca tells me to get some footwear on because we are going out.
On the way down in the elevator, I attempt to ask him three times where we are going, but fear clogs my throat. Was he returning me to Igor? What would Igor do to me?
I can’t stay quiet any longer once we are in the limo.
“Where are we going?”
Lucca once again is on his device. “To the ship.” He doesn’t look up at me as he answers.
A new wave of fear and a longing for what has become of my home has me looking out the window as I try to move all the parts inside me around like I can make them fall into place.
I can’t.
Home. Home was a boat, home was a large house, home was a cell in the lower deck of a ship once. Home was County Clare.
That final thought has me squeezing my eyes from the burn in the back of my throat.
“Did you always want to be the Handler?” I need a distraction from my morbid thoughts. I don’t look at Lucca because I don’t really think he will answer.
“Yes.”
Now he has my attention. He’s staring at me, and my stomach squirms.
Him answering me is a surprise, and now I want to know it all. But I also remember that I need to be very careful with my questions.
“Why?” I ask something I didn’t intend to ask. I wanted to ask what his parents thought of their son being the handler, but maybe they were high up in the mafia, that this was a role he had always known he would fill, so therefore he always wanted it.
His silver eyes narrow slightly. “I just did, Evie.”
My name on his lips has me wanting to squirm. It’s too personal, and his gaze drags down my front like he can see through the material. Like he can see my nipples that are hardening in my bra. I fold my arms across my chest, and the grin on his face has me uncrossing them. The limo slows as we approach the ship. I don’t know any of the security that is here. They are all new. As we board the ship, I feel the press of the ghosts, and my legs refuse to move any further.
Lucca had been walking ahead of me and stops. “Take me to your room.”
His voice snaps me out of my frozen state, and I walk up to him. His cologne is strong as I pass him and lead him to not just my room but all of our room. We had always shared a space. The moment I enter it, the smell of warm sun, lotions, and perfume surrounds me.
I miss them all. The thought that they could be hurt or worse has me walking to my bed. The light streams in, cutting across the silken cream covers of my bed. I touch the stream of light, yet the heat doesn’t penetrate my flesh like it once did. I still feel cold. As I glance around the room, I know each inch of it, but it’s like I’m looking at the life of someone else; Of some poor girl who has no idea what really lies ahead. Most days, I had tried to pretend that this was it. That I lived with a group of women, and that’s how it would always be. It was an easier fate to accept than the knowledge that I was in a holding cell waiting to be sold.
“Is that where you slept?” Lucca drags me away from my thoughts. I had almost forgotten why I was here.
“Yes.”
He steps up to my bed and opens a small cupboard beside it. I don’t stop him as he removes files. He dumps the stack on my bed and takes the first one off the pile. His gaze flickers between me and the file of one of the men who might become my husband.
“What is this?”
“It’s a profile on my future husband.”
Lucca’s jaw tightens, and he holds a look of disbelief.
“We have to learn about them in case we are picked.”
He shuffles the pile on the bed. “There must be forty here.”
“Thirty-eight.” I correct.
He closes the file and throws it on my bed. He’s leaving the room, but I don’t like the mess. I quickly put the files back in my cupboard and follow him from the room.
“Let’s go to the loading dock.”
I knew this would happen, yet it still doesn’t stop my heart from hammering in my chest and the blood from roaring in my ears. I walk, and once I round the corner to the loading dock, I’m expecting to see all the bodies on the floor. All the bodies I had to step across to get out of here.
“I asked about the girl who was sick,” Lucca says.
The blood still taints the floor, and my stomach somersaults.
“There was none, Evie. So you lied to me.”
My gaze jumps to the crates. “I
