Page 72 of Bianchi

Doc squeezes my shoulder, a softness relaxing his face as he offers me a sympathetic smile. “There’s no evidence of it.” He turns to look at Aurora. “I guess a saving grace would be that whoever tortured her knew what they were doing and everything has been done to hurt, not maim or kill.”

As if that offers any level of comfort.

“When will she wake up?”

“There’s no telling. Her body has experienced extensive trauma and with these kinds of things, it’s hard to put a definitive timeline on it. When she does wake up, she’s going to need to rest for a while. Callie will fit the IV and stay with her overnight, and then I’ll pop back again tomorrow afternoon after surgery hours.”

I fix my focus back on Aurora. “Thanks, Doc.”

Clapping me on the shoulder with the familiarity of a friend, he squeezes it gently. “She’ll be okay. You got to her in time.”

She might survive this, but I’m not sure we will.

Chapter 47

Aurora

Ahand soothes over my back and I burrow further into the familiar warmth by my side. Romeo’s signature woodsy scent fills my nostrils as my nose brushes over his bare chest. It feels so real. I squeeze my eyes before fluttering them open and staring at his toned chest. A groove forms between my brows at the sight.

Something about this is off and I don’t know why.

I stretch my body out, pushing my chest into his and luxuriating in the rich cotton on my skin. Moaning as my nipples brush the coarse hair on his chest, it quickly morphs into a gasp of pain when a jolt rips through my body, hitting every limb and forcing me to relax.

It wasn’t a dream.

Breathing through the pain, I hold still, waiting for it to dissipate as I let memories flood my mind. I held a gun to Romeo’s head and told him I hate him, so why am I in his bed? None of this makes any sense. At best I should be in hospital, at worst I should be six feet under.

Romeo’s arms tighten a fraction. “You’re awake.” Concern, laced with relief, coats his words.

Pushing at his chest, I try to move back and put some space between us so I can think, but Romeo holds steady, his arms banding around me like a vise. Struggling in his arms, everything hits me at once, from how I tried to save him, to how he left me to die. And then the fact that I’m now a murderer. I killed my uncle because he killed my mom, but that doesn’t make what I did right.

My hands form into fists and I pummel Romeo’s chest until he relents and loosens his hold enough for me to fully break free. Air rushes through my teeth as I move to sit up, the skin on my thigh pinching and pulling.

Shoving away the covers, I move to the side of the bed. There’s a needle in the back of my hand and I stare at it for a moment, confused as to who would have put it there before I remember what Romeo had said about Doc. I should be in the hospital, not Romeo’s bed. In fact, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, despite the reaction my body just had to his proximity. I wasn’t fully awake. At least that’s what I’ll tell myself.

Blowing out a breath, I pull at the tape holding the needle in place. When I have it lifted, I slide it out of the back of my hand before sticking it to the bedside table. I close my eyes before standing, putting most of the pressure on the leg that wasn’t sliced by my psychotic torturer.

A wave of dizziness assails me, but I rest my hand on the table and breathe through it. Every inch of me still hurts, but if I can make it through the assault I was subjected to, then I can get the hell out of this house.

Romeo rounds the bed, coming to a stop in front of me. His hands reach out to grab mine, but I pull them away, glaring at him. He takes a step back but keeps his hands outstretched, no doubt so he can be ready to catch me if I fall. What a hero.

“I can help you to the bathroom. The doctor said you have to rest, at least for a week, Aurora. I’m here to help.” Concern fills his voice.

A week? I can’t help but scoff at the notion. Yeah, I’m not staying here for a second longer than I have to. Determined, I move around him and hobble toward the closet, aware of Romeo’s presence behind me every step of the way.

“Aurora, you need to get back into bed. Whatever you need, I can get it.” His tone is authoritative, but there’s also a hint of pleading in there.

If the idea that he cared about me wasn’t so laughable, I’d be turning back toward the bed and asking him to stay with me. Begging him to take back what he said and to love me just as much as I love him. Correction, loved.

On the threshold of the closet, I face him, supporting myself on the frame. “You said if I told you what I wanted, you’d make it happen. Well, what I want is to never see you again. You should have left me to die because it would have been preferential to being in your presence for a second longer.” My voice is calm, but the fury swirling beneath the surface wraps around us, suffocating any hope of a second chance we might have.

He steps forward, and I step back. My leg buckles out from underneath me and my arms flail, looking for something to hold on to. A growl echoes around the room, the sound drowning out the pounding in my ears.

It’s going to hurt.

When I hit the ground, it’s going to hurt.

Romeo grabs me, and pulls me in tightly against his chest. I suck in a breath, holding it and refusing to fall under his spell, again. Sliding one arm behind my knees, he scoops me into his arms and carries me back into the bedroom, heading for the bed. “You’re going to rest for a week. It's the doctor's orders, not mine.” I watch the column of his throat as he swallows. “If you still feel the same way by the end of the week, then I’ll let you go. But you need to heal first.”

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