Page 116 of Fallen Stars

My champion.

My heart.

My soul.

Moj zauvjek.

Neither of us moves as the credits roll up the screen. Were it not for his occasional lazy strokes on my hand, I’d assume he’d fallen asleep. Like me, he is enjoying the physical contact. The intimacy. The small step toward the old us.

And I’m about to pop the bubble.

Heart hammering in my chest, I whisper, “I want to go back.”

He shifts and gives me a little more of his weight. “Hmm?”

I close my eyes and inhale a shaky breath. “Where you found me. I want to go back.”

Oliver stiffens for one, two, three erratic heartbeats before he softens. “Why?” His voice is hoarse as the single word scratches my ears.

“I wasn’t in that place long, but I think seeing what’s left of it will help me move on.”

To my knowledge, the grimy, rancid prison I spent most of my time in hasn’t been located. If it has, the details are underlock and key. Which is fine by me. Not a chance in hell I’d set foot in those walls ever again.

Oliver tightens his hold, lifts our joined hands, and cradles them to his chest. His breaths come in short, fast, audible bursts. His heart hammers beneath our clasped hands.

“I…” he starts then stops.

It wasn’t just me in hell for months. Oliver existed in his own version too.

But I need this. To see the place vacant and dismantled. To know that no one else will be stripped apart by those assholes and treated as though their lives, their personhood doesn’t matter.

I nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “Please.” Clutching the hem of his shirt with my free hand, I fist the fabric and anchor myself to him.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, he brings our joined hands to his lips. “That place holds bad memories for me too.”

I’d be a fool to think otherwise. “I know.”

“You’re not going alone.” He shakes his head over and over.

Lifting my head from his shoulder, I stare at his backlit profile and wait. Minute-long seconds tick by before he chastely kisses my fingers then twists to meet my waiting gaze.

His glassy green eyes stop my heart. Rob me of oxygen. Have me gripping his hand with impossible strength. Heartache and despair shape the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

I release his shirt and lift my hand to his cheek. Cup his jaw and caress his stubbled skin.

I love you.Why can’t I say the fucking words?

“Not a chance in hell I’d go alone.”

“I have conditions.”

A tear rolls down his cheek and I wipe it away.

“Good.”

He sniffles. “A group of us goes.” Concern mars his features. “I don’t trust either of us to be okay.”

Valid point. My abduction impacted us both, just differently.

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