“I’m there. Give me fifteen and I’m there, Cal. Just sit down and I’ll be there, okay?” His voice is full of concern. I can tell he’s worried about me, worried about her. “Where is she, Cal?”

“I don’t know. The paramedics took her.”

“Alright. We’ll find out and then we’ll go see her.”

“No,” I state determinedly. “She’s better off without me.”

“Cal, you—”

“No!” I shout, and my rough voice echoes around the house. “Just come over, Grant. Please.”

He sighs and resignedly agrees. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll let myself in.”

I end the call. There’s nothing more to say.

I can no longer hide behind ignorance. I’m the monster who wrapped his fingers around a woman’s throat, abusing her trust and experiencing the most intense and satisfying climax I’ve ever had while I choked the life out of her.

I walk to the drinks trolley to get myself a drink. My hand shakes as I tip the bottle toward the glass. All the alcohol in the world won’t rewind the last twelve hours. I’d give anything . . . anything to take it all back, to stop the pain and suffering Lucia has been dealt by my hands.

Making my way outside, I sit down in my armchair, my body numb and unresponsive. The scent of her perfume lingers faintly on my skin, driving the knife in my gut deeper. Lifting the glass to my mouth I gulp half the drink in two large gulps, welcoming the acid-like burn of the liquor down my throat.

The euphoria escapes me as the horror of what I’ve just done sinks in, encasing my body with its torture. In a selfish act of dissolute need, I lost all semblance of dignity and control at the expense of the woman who trusted me. She gave me a gift, which I repaid by neglecting to give her the attention she deserved more than anything in that moment.

How can I ever come back from this? How will Lucia bear to be near me, to even look at me with those same wide green eyes that were lifeless today?

What have I done? Why did I do it? Why didn’t I watch her more closely?

My mind races as endless questions come to me in a never-ending loop that I will probably never come close to answering. If I had the answers, I would not be where I am and Lucia would still be close enough to touch. Pain continues to spear through me, but now it’s edged with overwhelming regret for the careless actions that have the power to ruin the most important things in my life.

The very life I’ve built for myself . . . everything I’ve ever done now waits in purgatory, all caused by a lack of focus at a time when my most concentrated attention was needed. If I lose her because of this, it’ll be nothing less than what I deserve.

I need her breathing. I need her alive.

Without her, I have nothing. Without her, I am nothing.

Why couldn’t I resist the temptation she so willingly offered to me?

The craving, the need to follow my instincts drove me to wrap my strong fingers around her frail throat, to squeeze the very life out of her as I catapulted headfirst into my basal calling to release myself inside of her. I should never have touched her with my emotions, my thoughts, everything so unrestrained and uncontrollable.

How did I lose myself?

How did I fall so far as to hurt the woman I love?

Grant lets himself in twenty minutes later, and when he walks out onto the balcony, I lift my head and see the stress and concern wearing on his normally calm and held-together composition.

“Tell me what happened?”

“I hurt her,” I say, my voice cracking as I verbalize my worst-held fear that is now a horrific reality.

“How, Cal? You could never hurt Luce. You don’t have that in you.”

An empty, meaningless laugh escapes me. “Apparently I do when I’m being followed, exposed, harassed and am potentially responsible for two innocent men dying. It seems I can physically hurt someone I love.”

“Was she . . . ?”

I stand and rush toward him, shoving my palms against his chest angrily. “I don’t know!” My eyes widen in shock when I realize what I’ve done. “Shit! I—”

He’s not put off and continues to push me for answers. “Did you . . . mean to hurt her?”

“Fuck no,” I spit out. “I lost control. I wasn’t careful; we weren’t careful. Things got out of hand and I hurt her. That’s it. The end.” I walk backwards and collapse down into the chair and cradle my head in my hands, my shoulders slumping in defeat. “I didn’t ever want to do it. Never. I knew this would happen. I gave in. All I could focus on was getting release, something, anything to ease the tension.”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath and moves to the chair next to me. “You . . .”

“Yeah.”

“How? You said you’d never do it. Ever.”

“I needed it. Luce sensed that; she knew I was holding back, has probably known for a while. I didn’t need anything more than her. I convinced myself that anything with her was everything I’d ever need.”

Silence stretches between us, not awkward, not stilted, just a common understanding that I need time to compose myself before continuing with a hoarse whisper. “She put my hand on her throat. I was too far gone to give her the care she needed. Too lost in my darkest fantasy coming to fruition than in watching her.” I take a deep breath and slowly exhale before telling him the worst. “She must’ve lost consciousness and when I realized, it was too late. I called nine-one-one, and the paramedics were here with ten minutes. By then her breathing was shallow and she was pale . . . so fucking pale . . .”

“Cal?” Grant asks, and I shake my head in an ineffectual attempt to clear my mind of Luce’s face, void of all expression and signs of life. My heart stutters in my chest as I relive the terror I felt in that moment all over again.

“Did the police want to charge you?”

Lifting my head, I meet his eyes. “No. They wouldn’t.” I take a breath but my throat grows impossibly tight. “I couldn’t live with myself if she . . .”

He tenses his jaw and spears me with a look that means business. “Go clean yourself up because you’re a goddamn mess, then we’ll go to the hospital.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off before I can utter even a single word.

“Where did they take her?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” I run my fingers through my hair, the lump in my throat growing again. My eyes mist over. “I don’t know anything anymore and that terrifies me. The thought of losing her terrifies me even more.”

“Then let’s get some answers for you.”

When I’d showered and gotten dressed, Grant was waiting for me in the kitchen. “I made some calls. She’s at UCSF Medical Center,” he says.

“Look, this isn’t a good idea—”

“Alexander. Get your ass in my car. We’re going to see her,” he commanded, his eyes narrowed and giving me no other option but to do what he said.

Once we got to the hospital, Grant was able to find out she was no longer in the ER and was now in a room upstairs. When we walk down the corridor toward her room, we’re confronted with a stony-faced Gino.

“Tell me you aren’t here to see my sister—the one you put in a hospital bed,” Gino shouts the moment he sees us. Now that I’m only twenty feet and a wall away from her, my stomach knots tight with the overwhelming guilt that has been threatening to pull me under ever since it happened. Shame washes over me once more as I face Luce’s staunchly protective and understandably irate brother. The weight of what I’ve done to her presses deeper onto me, the apologetic words I should say—that I need to say—choking in my throat at the sight of his blazing eyes. “Yeah, she told me what happened. And you disgust me. How can you call yourself a man?” he spits out before Grant steps in.