Chapter 4
Louisa's POV
I could cut the tension with a knife in the car.
At that time, Lucas' driver cleared his voice and said, "I've got a better offer, Miss Falco. How about you telling me where you live and Mr. Sigler promising to put his dick in his pants while I'm driving you home?"
Lucas narrowed his eyes at the driver and snarled, "Mr. Sigler says no."
"Then Mr. Sigler needs to get out of the car and stay in the rain like a wet dog in the pouring rain while I'm driving Miss Falco home." The driver said in a nonchalant but intimidating voice.
"Oh, fuck, Lucian. You're such a party pooper!" Lucas looked annoyed, scratching his hair like a hopeless child.
"And that's why your father chose me to be your driver," Lucian replied.
The moment Lucas heard the voice "father", he became deflated.
He shifted away from me while still holding my hands.
"Keep your hands where I can see along the drive and we'll be cool," Lucian said.
"Okay! Okay! I'll behave!" Lucas let go of my hands and raised both of his hands in the air like he was surrounded.
He looked just like a naughty boy who had got caught.
-
I asked Lucian to park the car two blocks away from where I lived.
I didn't want Greg to see me being taken back by a limo.
Lucian pulled the door open for me and handed me an umbrella.
"Thank you," I said in a low voice and walked off without looking back.
After I took a few steps forward, switching on the torch on my mobile, someone grabbed my arm from behind.
I looked back and saw it was Lucas.
He was standing in the rain like an idiot, looking at me.
"What now?!" I asked.
He leaned forward, took the phone from my hands, and dialed a number.
"Just in case you need to give me a call." He said and handed the phone back to me.
"Are you... Are you serious?!" I barked at his soaked wet face. "Do you think that I will call you back after all this?! How desperate and horny you are?! Am I the only woman left on earth or...?"
I didn't finish my sentence because...
He suddenly grabbed my arms and pulled me against his chest.
Then, before I could do anything, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against mine.
What the...?!
It was just a brief encounter of our lips, but it felt like a century-long.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I was just standing there, wearing nothing but a blanket over undergarments, being kissed by the most annoying, yet the most charming man I had just been acquainted with for less than an hour.
And it was my first kiss.
I couldn't believe it!
It wasn't fair! I wanted to save my first kiss to my boyfriend, not a walking humanoid fucking machine like Lucas Sigler.
It meant nothing to him but a fling, but to me, it meant everything!
And I didn't have much in my pathetic life!
I couldn't hold it anymore.
I used all my effort to push him away and slapped him across his face.
"Stay away from me, pervert! Leave me alone!" I shouted at him and ran away.
Rolling tears, mixed with pouring rain, fell down my cheeks.
I told myself it was okay to cry because no one could tell the difference between tears and rain.
As I was running, I felt there was something chasing me in the dark, like a predator or something.
It was like the worst nightmare came true.
I ran like I was afraid that the sharp claws of darkness would catch me and tear me into pieces.
And when I finally grabbed the rusty door handle of our house, I didn't realize that the real nightmare would just begin.
Greg was sitting downstairs in the living room, with a bear in his hands.
The TV was on, but the light was out.
By the dim light given off by the TV, I could see there was a mess in the room.
Damn. I thought to myself. He had been sober for a year, and it only took a trip with his brothers-in-arms to bring the most inglorious drunkard inside of him back to life.
"Where the fuck did you go?!" Greg roared as soon as he saw me.
"I was at the cupcake shop," I said, trying to get back to my room as soon as possible.
"What did you just say?! Stop right there!" Greg stood up from his armchair and approached me, stumbling all the way, knocking down everything that stood in his way.
I was trying to go upstairs, but Greg pulled me back.
"Your father is fucking talking to you! You little brat! Are you deaf?!" He shouted at my face.
His breath stunk with cheap alcohol.
"Let go of me! I had to take a shower and..." I struggled and protested.
"What the fuck are you wearing?!" He barked and pulled the blanket off my shoulder.
"You're fucking wearing nothing!" Greg shouted with flames of anger coming out of his eyes.
I tried to cover myself with the blanket, but it was shredded into pieces by Greg.
"Where's the dress?!" He growled. "Where have you been?! Answer my question right now and this is your one last time!"
I looked up and saw Laura standing at the end of the staircase.
Her hair was a mess and it covered half of her face.
Despite this, I still saw her black eyes and bruised face.
She must have taken a violent beating before I got home.
She came downstairs with trembling raptured lips.
"I'm sorry, father... It's all my fault... Please don't hurt Louisa... It was me stealing the dress and lying to her... It was me..."
"Shut up! Do you know how much that fucking dress is?! Both of you are fucking liars, just like your mothers used to be!" Greg pulled his hair and went hysterical, charging at Laura and pushing her against the wall.
For a brief moment, I thought he was about to strangle her to death.
"Stop! Leave her alone!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. Then, I grabbed whatever I could get to bash his head and shoulders.
He exclaimed in pain and fell to the ground. Blood started coming out of his shoulder.
My mind went blank for a while.
It was Laura's scream that brought me back to life.
I lowered my head and saw what was left in my hand -
It was a broken chair.
It turned out that I hit Greg, my stepfather, with a wooden chair.
One half was still in my hand, and the other half was in his shoulder blade.
Laura used her body to shield Greg and cried out, "Don't hit him! Louisa! I beg you! Please! He's drunk!"
"Why do you always try to protect him?! He has just beaten the crap of you!" I said with anger.
Laura wept and said, "He's my father! Louisa! He's the only parent that I've got! It's all my fault! Please don't..."
"Your father," I mumbled.
Laura and I weren't connected by blood. Her father, Greg, married my mother when I was a teenager. They both lost their spouses and formed this family.
Laura, who was seven years older than me, became my substitute mother after my mother passed away two years ago. Even though she was doing everything she could to make me feel at home, Greg would always make sure that I didn't belong to his family.
Laura noticed this and immediately said, "Louisa, you know what I mean. I didn't mean to..."
I threw the chair on the floor and walked toward the door.
This dreadful place was suffocating and I needed some fresh air.
But before I opened the door, I stopped and said, "I've lost the dress, Laura. It's ruined and we can never get it back. But don't worry, sister. I'll find a way to pay for it."