Page 45 of The Butterfly Killer

"But?" Marcus prepared for the worse. Roman was going to say the infection had spread up his leg and he'd have to amputate. Or that Roman had enough with the games and was going to end it all here.

Roman got up. He pulled the blankets up from the bottom and looked at Marcus's feet.

"Can you wiggle your toes for me?"

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't stomach saying it. He wished he could be in the joking mood. However, the thought of being paralyzed frightened him enough that he lost his ability to speak.

Marcus wiggled his toes as best as he could. They were rigid which he hoped was simply because he'd been bed ridden for a couple days.

Roman lowered the blanket. "Good news is they work."

Marcus let out the breath he'd been holding. "The bad?"

Roman didn't move from where he stood. He looked to be thinking about something.

"Your left leg needs to be reset."

Marcus choked. "What? When the fuck did I break it?"

He thought back to when he'd been taken by Roman and even further back than that when he was locked up in the shed by a maniacal rapist. Nowhere in his timeline did he remember breaking his leg.

Roman nonchalantly shrugged. "The first time you escaped."

Marcus sputtered, utterly confused. "The first time? What are you talking about? I never even got past the front door!"

Roman leaned down and grabbed a bag he pulled onto the bed. "I drugged you after I knocked you out. The first time youtried to run was when I brought you here before the snowstorm blocked the roads."

He unzipped the small bag. He searched for something inside and when he found it, he set it to the side.

"The drugs had depleted from your system. I didn't expect you to wake up until a couple more hours."

Marcus clenched his teeth in irritation. "Get on with it. What happened?"

Roman looked at him from under his lashes. It was a look of warning.

"I'm getting to it," Roman said. He lifted whatever he grabbed from the bag. It was a vial of clear liquid. In his other hand he held a needle.

Marcus's blood went cold. "You're not poking me with that! No fucking way!"

"You went running and I knew you wouldn't get far before you started to freeze. I was going to wait you out and search for you later." Roman popped off the needle's cap. He twisted off the lid of the vial and punctured the seal with the needle. "But I didn't have to do that. You tripped down a slope and landed on a pile of conveniently placed rocks."

He filled the syringe with the clear liquid. He didn't so much as grin as he looked at Marcus. The look in his eyes was eerily calm. He wasn't fazed by the events he was describing or that he was about to stick Marcus with a needle. Or even that he was going to break Marcus's leg again so it could properly heal.

Marcus's chest heaved. His pulse spiked, his throat swelling as Roman stepped around the bed and toward him.

"You're insane."

Roman grinned. "Not the first time someone's told me that."

He grabbed Marcus's arm. It was inevitable what came next. Marcus didn't fight it as Roman stuck him with the needle. He felt the liquid drain into him so vividly he could write a poemabout. The slide of it into his vines, the coolness that spread from the spot, and the good feeling that rushed to his head.

His muscles relaxed and his racing heart slowed.

"Am I dying?" He asked. He didn't sound sad or scared. His voice was almost content. In that moment alone, he wasn't afraid of dying without accomplishing his goals.

Roman patted him above the injection spot. "No. Not yet."

He moved back to the bottom of the bed. He threw the blankets off Marcus's body completely, exposing him to the chilly air.

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