Page 94 of A Girl and HER Prince
Turner straightened. His jaw hardened into the bodyguard they needed. “Where is the prince? Take me to him.”
She nodded. Achilles’s betrayal would take a while to sink in—they were all friends—but convincing Turner didn’t matter at the moment. They just needed to get to Venice before it was too late.
“Where’s your boat?” she asked. It would be faster if they could get to him without scaling the limestone walls in the fishbowl.
Turner was already pulling on his dive gear. “Nai, you are right. We will go to my boat. I have a first aid kit there and bandages.” His eyes were on her scraped palms. “We shall also fix up you.”
Livvy let out a breath of impatience. “Forget about me.” There was only one thing she cared about—the bodyguard would have the medical training to patch up those he was paid to protect. “Let’s get to Venice!”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Venice rammed his fist into the debris surrounding the heavy stone altar that blocked his way out. Livvy was a genius for trapping him down here, but that didn’t mean she’d survive going down the fishbowl.
He had to get to her… except his every movement felt sluggish.
Trying not to fail her by letting this dizziness consume him, he doggedly worked on the break in the rock. Each shove let in a shaft of light that streamed through the altar. Dust and pieces of limestone spilled over his face as he continued to dig and poke his way through, but his shoulder was stuck and he couldn’t put any of his strength into this.
Venice tried to twist sideways and let out a groan of agony at the movement. It wasn’t just his shoulder. His stomach throbbed like nothing he’d felt before. He laid his head back, imagining he was swimming through the lagoon with Livvy. He floated through the blackness.
They had both died and were drifting to the clouds of Olympus to beg the gods one last boon—to allow them to be together in their love. Zeus turned into his father. “Your Majesty, I won’t hurt her…. I need her.”
He moaned, snapping back to reality. The pain was almost unbearable. Only the memory of her kisses got him through the next excruciating minutes, the softness of her voice, the love in her eyes. Strange that they’d already connected in these short hours together.
I never told her I love her. She doesn’t know!
Filled with renewed urgency, he steadied himself through his misery and tried to plot his way out of here. He couldn’t let Livvy face this alone.
A step sounded outside on the broken cobbles of these ruins. Peering through the crack in the altar, his gaze met a track of fearsome ant tattoos climbing up an ankle from the boat shoes the intruder wore.
This was Achilles, of course. Was he by himself or surrounded by more of his uncle’s bloodthirsty men?
“Venice?” Achilles hissed. “Where are you?” There was no other sound but the tread of the duke’s feet against the stone.
Achilles was most certainly alone.
Good. Venice could take him on without any interference. The way out of this cramped hiding place was now open to him. “You traitor!” he shouted through the altar.
Achilles immediately stopped. His legs spun around. “Where are you, Venice?”
Lurking in the ground, ready to tear you apart.“Over here. Come and get me.”
Achilles hurried over. “If you have another flare, save yourself the trouble…”
“You’d deserve it if I did,” he muttered. He listened to Achilles’s grunts on the other side, followed by a dull sound of stone grating across the cobbles. Venice braced for their fight as the stone between them ripped viciously back from him.
“Wait, wait,” Achilles said. His voice was lowered and it came out hoarser. “Wait! You’re bleeding all over the place. What happened?”
Was he dumb? “You stabbed me!”
“Really?” Achilles glared at him. “I was back there in the forest. How did I do that?”
“Not here! When we were in the caves, diving.” And he couldn’t believe he had to spell outwhyhe was bleeding.
Achilles’s eyes locked with his. “That wasn’t me.” He reached for the bandage and Venice shoved him back. “Let me see it,” Achilles hissed. “C’mon, I can help you.”
“Help me?” Venice choked. The pain wasn’t helping with his grief and confusion, but he couldn’t stop Achilles either. The duke’s movements as he inched closer reminded Venice of when they were young, and Achilles was trying to save a hurt dog who’d kept biting him.
Achilles knelt beside him. Venice moaned out a warning, partly in mourning for what they’d lost. The second Achilles’s fingers brushed against his skin, Venice clenched his teeth in pain. Achilles got a grip on his bandages.
