Page 42 of Ruined

You shouldn’t.

We stepped out of the bedroom, the only one in this damned shoebox. It had a bed shoved against the wall, an old dresser that looked like it’d seen too many fistfights, and a nightstand with peeling paint. His comforter was the only comfortable thing in his apartment.

A tiny kitchen bled into an even smaller living room. The couch where I’d be crashing barely held itself together, covered in a threadbare blanket that smelled like Luca’s aftershave. Not exactly five-star living, but it’d have to do.

Santino walked out.

I shut the door and locked it.

I wandered back into the bedroom, the door creaking as I pushed it open. Luca was still knocked out. I dragged a chair over, sitting beside him, and watched him. He looked younger, like the twenty-four-year-old he was supposed to be. How long had he been fighting to keep that hardness in place?

“We’re stuck here together for a while, huh?” I whispered, stroking hair from his eyes. “Bet you’ll bitch about it when you wake up.”

Luca shivered.

I pulled the blanket to his chest. “You better get your shit together.”

No response.

I gritted my teeth. “You got yourself stabbed, and for what? Why did you do it?”

He didn’t move.

I exhaled, running a hand over my face. I’d taunted him. That’s why he ran headfirst into danger. I’d made him feel like he had something to prove, and still…he’d protected me. Luca had tackled me in the kitchen right as that man opened fire. He’d saved my life.

I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

I needed to keep my distance. I wasn’t here to fall for him. I was here to keep him alive.

ELEVEN

LUCA

“Real men die fighting.”

Alexei’s distorted voice overlapped with a loud pounding. The walls blurred, and the room shifted.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart.”

My eyes snapped open. I breathed hard, the nightmare clinging to me as I took in pale blue walls and morning light filtering through curtains. I struggled upright. A dull ache throbbed in my side, and a hand pressed lightly on my shoulder.

“Hey, take it easy.”

Dominic sat beside the bed, his sleeves rolled up. My gaze drifted to his forearms. His tie hung loose, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Shock snatched the air from my lungs. What was he doing in my bedroom?

“You,” I growled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Good morning to you, too.”

Dominic propped up the pillows behind my head, and I moved back until I sat against the headboard. Dominic handed me a glass of water from the nightstand. I must’ve died and entered an alternate universe.

“What’re youdoinghere?”

“You got yourself stabbed,” he said quietly. “Ambushed outside Vito’s. A doctor patched you up, and I stayed to watch over you.”

I drank from the glass. “All night?”

He smiled. “Someone had to make sure you didn’t bleed out in your sleep. Besides, I figured you’d need a hand in the morning.”

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