Page 38 of Lucian

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The Brooklyn apartment Jordyn wasn’t allowed to leave had officially been home for thirteen days.

Standing in front of the full length mirror to take note of the progress of her injuries was like a slap in the face. It was harder to do than she thought it would be. Some of the minor bruising had turned to a pale, yellowish shade. The welts that had been particularly bad were still tender to the touch, some a reddish color, and others turning to a darkening discoloration.

The cut on her jaw where a stud in the belt had split the skin was closed over, but not healed. It was still red and sore looking. As were the many lesions on her shoulders and back from the same culprit. She’d taken to sleeping on her side, on her uninjured arm, because it was easier than waking up stiff and tender from laying on the many wounds.

Turning slightly, Jordyn tried to get a better look at the cherry blossoms that were inked over her shoulder and dipped a short way down her back. A bit of the tattoo was permanently damaged from the beating. Where the skin had been brutally split open and bled, the tattoo would need to be fixed. Some spots just needed a simple re-coloration, while others were worse and would demand more work.

Lucian assured that would be the easiest, if she wanted to have it done. However, he’d made it clear the only person who would be inking up her body was someone worthy of doing just that. Apparently it wasn’t okay for just anyone to be touching her, especially for the purpose of tattooing. Jordyn wasn’t entirely sure what to make of those comments, but she wasn’t about to deny she liked the possessive undertone he didn’t bother to hide when he spoke about it.

Jordyn also noticed that when Lucian did speak about her, him, or them in some context, he nearly always spoke as if it were them together. She wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it. The thought was just as much frightening as it was interesting.

Frankly, she hadn’t gained the courage to outright ask Lucian what it was he wanted from her, or expected.

It was a day by day thing. Whatever it was between them.

The one thing Jordyn knew for sure was the fact there was something there.

Like the way he made her so aware of everything, even of things she hadn’t considered before. How he watched her; when he didn’t speak. The comfort she found in his presence, despite knowing he was a dangerous man. When her heart picked up in his close proximity, or the warmth that seemed to keep on spreading at the most innocent of touches.

Yeah, something all right.

Jordyn wanted to be sure her infatuation with his man wasn’t born from a sort of hero complex her mind had created. It wasn’t such a stretch to think so, but she also knew their odd connection had started the very moment he pulled back the confessional curtain.

Not that Jordyn minded, but the small apartment didn’t afford her much privacy from Lucian when he was awake. Rarely did he sleep, or even nap, for that matter. Even at night, Lucian prowled the apartment. She found he was as fit as he was because a great deal of his morning was spent working out. The laptop he toted around was always turned on, and he enjoyed playing jazz while he worked on whatever it was he worked on.

The man’s mind ran on high twenty-four-seven. Lucian never stopped. He was always in perpetual motion in one way or another. How his body and mind kept up with his odd schedule, Jordyn didn’t understand. For her, being tired and weak from trying to heal, and her mind overwhelmed with worry and fear from what was yet to come, Lucian exhausted her just by watching him on a daily basis.

So, when he’d drifted off to sleep on the couch after a visit from his youngest brother Gio, Jordyn took the chance to strip down the in bedroom and take a private inventory of what her body looked like a week after her beating behind closed doors.

Hell, that’s what it looked like.

Awful. Disgusting.

How anyone could find her beautiful with these marks and bruises was laughable.

Jordyn felt anything but beautiful.

The lace briefs she wore were expensive, pretty and delicate. Certainly not an item you would find in a package of several at a big box store. In fact, she found these particular undergarments inside a long, white box Cecelia Marcello delivered when she brought Jordyn clothes. They came in several colors with matching brassieres. In another box of the same style with the same emblem on the top, she found another set of undergarments, only those were made of silk. The lingerie had been positioned inside the box as if they were on display and wrapped in tissue paper. The Marcello matriarch assured Jordyn she hadn’t packaged the pieces that way, but the store they were bought from did.

Jordyn tried to refuse the obviously expensive lingerie, but arguing was useless. Cecelia made it perfectly clear the cost and what she chose to spend her money on, or who for that matter, wasn’t up for discussion. The woman then proceeded to say it didn’t make a difference anyway, because it was Lucian’s money that had bought these things, not hers, and Jordyn needed them.

It wasn’t so much the lace against her skin that drew her attention as it was the bandage the panties half covered on her hip. The burn injury wasn’t healing as fast as Jordyn wanted it to, but Paulie assured her that was normal. Wounds of that magnitude took a lot longer and a great deal of attention and care before they even started to look a little bit better. The burn was a good five inches in width and four inches in length. Along with the skin Will seared off, he’d also taken Gabe’s name.

When it was healed, the tattoo would be replaced by puckered, new, scarred skin.

Staring at the bandage, Jordyn traced softly over the spot. She didn’t hear Lucian open the bedroom door until his voice was behind her.

“Did you love him?” he asked.

Jordyn released a heavy breath. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“You closed the door. I was worried.”

“Someday, you’re going to have to get over that. I’m not going to be in your sight all the time, Lucian. I can’t stay locked in this apartment forever, as safe as it is.”

“But not today,” Lucian replied, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “And you didn’t answer my question. Did you love him?”