It has been a week since Luca and I spoke about that incident. It has not been mentioned after that. To be honest, all we have talked about is his drug dealing. I still can't believe I'm being his information mule.
I have five days left and then I never have to see Luca again. Thank God. Although, there's a feeling of regret and almost guilt at the pit of my stomach. What's he doing to me?
Every morning at 1.35, just after lunch, we meet in the corridor. It usually only takes two minutes and it is very straight-to-the-point.
I walk towards the corridor, as instructed, at 1.35. I can see Luca through the glass of the window. However, he is walking very quickly and menacingly towards me. He slams open the door so the handle hits the wall. He snatches my wrist and drags me into a storeroom.
"I need to talk to you about something, but it may take some time and it's urgent." He says in a hushed tone as he switches the light on. Our chests are only inches apart.
I look up at him waiting for him to tell me what he has to, but he stands there with an unreadable expression on his face, staring into my eyes. I raise my eyebrows to indicate that I'm waiting for him to speak and he blinks aggressively before clearing his throat.
"I get out in about 3 weeks." He says.
"Congratulations, I'm very happy for you," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Don't speak to me like that." He growls, stepping forward so that we are even closer.
I take a deep breath. I really don't feel comfortable or safe.
"You finish working here on Sunday." He says. I nod. "I still need information from the outside from you."
"Well, I don't know how that's going to happen," I tell him, obviously becoming inpatient.
"You will visit me every single day until I am released." He orders.
"I can't," I tell him, simply.
"Why not?" He asks, slowly, his eyes getting darker.
"Because I'm back at uni on Wednesday and visiting hours are like nine till twelve, I'll be at uni then."
"Well, you'll have to have a few hours off."
"No!" I grit my teeth.
"Do I need to remind you of what I can do?" He says, moving even closer, causing me to bump into the wall.
I don't say anything.
"No. You know exactly what I will do if you don't do what I want, right baby." He smirks; his hands on either side of the wall.
"Stop," I whisper.
"Do what I say then." He whispers back, his eyes glimpsing at my lips.
I nod. Looks like I will be seeing a lot more of Luca than I anticipated.
---
I've literally had a nightmare day. Vera wanted me to assist Harbor with the room searches and it literally took hours. I'm exhausted. I only have half an hour of my shift left, but because they're short of kitchen staff, I've been given the lovely task of sorting out the trays.
I'm on the fortieth tray and I am starting to go insane. Suddenly, I hear the door creak open. Oh god... Ever since that incident I've been terrified to do things on my own.
I grab the first thing I see to use in my defence. Unfortunately for me, the thing is a wooden soup ladle. I breathe deeply as I hold the weapon up.
"What are you going to do with that?" A deep, raspy voice asks from behind me making me jump.
I rapidly turn around and I am somewhat relieved. It's Luca.
"Jesus Christ!" I whisper harshly.
"No, it's Luca actually. Although some people have said I am like a Greek God-"
"Oh, hilarious." I interrupt, putting my hand on my heart.
"What you doing?" He asks as he steps closer.
"Just sorting out the trays before I go home," I tell him.
"I'll help you." He says and helps himself to a handful of trays.
"Don't you need to be somewhere?" I ask him, nervously.
"Not really." He says, bluntly.
"But, if you're supposed to be in your cell and they find you with me, I'll get in loads of trouble," I say, cautiously.
"Can't we just pretend that there isn't this massive class divide between the two of us?" He snaps.
"What do you mean? You're probably richer than I am." I tell him, naively.
"Yeah, you would say that." He chuckles at me condescendingly. "No, I mean, can we just pretend that you and I are just normal. I'm not an absolute degenerate and you're not my 'superior'."
"I don't think you're a degenerate," I say softly, stopping what I am doing.
He turns around the face me. "You don't know me."
"If you were a degenerate, I would be dead by now. You wouldn't have saved me from that lunatic. You would have killed me or at least hurt me."
He looks me straight in the eye. "Listen to me. Your parents probably have told you all your life to stay away from people like me. I am reiterating this. I am the epitome of immorality, corruption and mercilessness. I know that you have this thing where you can see the good in everything, but I'm telling you now, there is no good in me."
I turn and carry on stacking the trays.
"If you're warning me to stay away from you, why do you keep asking me to do things?" I say.
"Because I have no self-control." He states, simply before stacking the last tray. "Looks like you can go home now, then." He smirks.
"Thank you." I breathe. We stare at each other for an abnormal amount of time.
"I should go," I say, and walk out, leaving him alone in the dimly lit kitchen.
I feel like there is an unusual feeling between Luca and me. It's quite unsettling and it makes me feel a bit ill. It feels like a burning sensation in my stomach. I feel like I struggle to breathe when I think of him. When I'm with him I feel completely myself. Odd.
YOU ARE READING
Degeneracy♡
Storie d'amoreIsobel Shelby, is a hard-working nineteen-year-old, with bucket loads of ambition. She is studying criminology and psychology at University and is on the pathway to success. This all changes when she meets Luca. She is put on a two-week placement in...