Page 42 of Gilded Princess

“It was everything. I—”

I feel adrift. Lost, floating down river while everything I thought I knew is another county away. How does someone just snatch a girl in broad daylight on a busy street? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that I got lucky. Really lucky.

If it wasn’t for Lainey, I know I wouldn’t be sitting here. And I know I need to make sure she’s okay, but I just need another moment. One more moment where I don’t have to be the strong one, where I can lean on someone else, even just for a few seconds.

I lean my forehead against Matteo’s chest and let my lashes flutter closed. I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically tapped dry.

With slow movement, giving me plenty of time to pull away, he slides his hand up my arm and settles it against the back of my neck. He holds me pressed to his chest, and something about the simple gesture opens the floodgates.

I can’t stop the tears from silently trailing down my cheekbones, landing against the soft fabric of his white shirt.

“I’m going to get blood all over your shirt,” I murmur.

His response is instant. “I don’t care about a little blood, Cherry.”

His hand on the back of my neck both soothes and commands, such an interesting juxtaposition. It’s exactly what I need.

“Anything serious?”

“I can’t talk about another patient’s injuries,” the EMT replies, her words clipped.

“You’re not being asked to violate your Hippocratic oath, you pretentious fuck,” Matteo snarls. “I’m asking if my girl needs further immediate medical attention.”

“Sir, I don’t appreciate being talked to—”

I sigh and tune them out. I don’t feel like wading in, and I trust Matteo enough in this moment to look out for me.

Rolling my forehead to the side, I look at the wreckage that I was inside less than an hour ago.

My anxiety spikes again when I don’t see my cousin. I honestly didn’t think I had any left, but I suppose anxiety is one of those bottomless-pit things.

As if conjured by my thoughts, I see her. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Lainey walks out of the building, flames at her back.

* * *

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I rouse from unconsciousness unnaturally. I should be in my dorm, in my bedroom, snuggled under my favorite summer quilt.

But I don’t feel the morning sun on my face, and I don’t hear the low whir of the A/C tower unit in the corner, and I don’t smell coffee brewing. Which means either it’s cloudy and we lost power, or I’m not at home.

I let myself wake up slowly, just like I do in Shavasana pose at the end of every yoga class. I wiggle my toes first, then feel the energy move through my body, climbing higher and fluttering my fingers.

I don’t hear anything—not even a sound machine or hushed conversation or the hum of the city that never sleeps.

I crack open my lids and wince at the brightness of the room. The sunshine isn’t beaming over my face, but it is shining through cream-colored, gauzy drapes into the room through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with glass French doors in the center.

I quickly slap a hand over my eyes, squeezing them shut in a lame attempt to ward off the throbbing in my head.

After a few minutes, the pain subsides enough to be tolerable. I blink a few times to clear my blurry vision and realize that I have no idea where I am. I vaguely recall going home with Matteo last night.

Like the thought of the warehouse conjured it, sharp pains shoot throughout my body.

With hesitant fingers, I reach up and touch the side of my face that’s throbbing in beat with my heart.

I suck in a breath at the contact. It’s swollen and sensitive, and I can only imagine how it looks if it feels this bad.

Pushing myself to my elbows, I look around the spacious room. The walls are pale gray with white crown moulding. The cream-colored carpet looks plush and the charcoal throw rug in the center of the room looks thick and soft.

A low-profile white dresser takes up one side of the room with a huge mirror mounted to the wall above it. A picture frame TV hangs above a small fireplace on the other wall with two overstuffed chairs strategically placed around it.

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