Page 8 of Till Death Do Us Part

“You took care of them.”

“To a degree.” He got comfortable in the chair. The pleather squeaked when he shifted his weight. “Tell me about yourself, Roma.”

To a degree?What was that supposed to even mean? It didn’t matter. I closed my eyes and sighed.

“I really don’t have the energy,” I said, “to discuss much.”

“Your mouth tired?”

Who was this guy?

“I’mtired,” I bit out.

“That’s an excuse.” His voice was calm, smooth, and oddly reassuring, even though he was insulting me. He had the voice of a therapist.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you a professional? Are you here to ‘talk’ me out of this?” By “this,” I meant the state of perpetual fear and tiredness that had inflicted me like a sickness since the attack.

He laughed, and it was a nice sound. It was full and warm, like his voice. “I’m not sure what ‘this’ is, but no, that’s not why I’m here. You were right about one thing, though. I am a professional, but not the talking-it-through kind. They’d never hire me to talk someone out of jumping because my job is to do the pushing.”

Okayyy. That shut me up for a second. Even though he’d made the comment about “taking care of them,” it wasn’t as blunt as “my job is to do the pushing.” He moved closer to the bed, and his cologne wafted in the air. The scent was manly, and it matched his chemistry perfectly. He could have smelled that way naturally, but I knew it came from a bottle.

I wanted to breathe it in like air.

Maybe my reaction to it was so strong because I hadn’t smelled anything but antiseptics for a while. It was like eating tasteless food while on a diet. It all tasted better than it should.

“The first step to getting out of here is making the choice to,” he said, bringing me back to his original point. “Moving your mouth counts as exercising muscles.”

Maybe I was misreading him, but it almost seemed like he was determined to get me talking again. Not sure why. And I wasn’t sure why I admitted this to him.

“Maybe I don’t want to get out of here,John. My entire world broke into millions of sharp pieces, my trust in humanity included. I mean, my sister never thought he could do that to her, and he took her eyesight.”

“And your sense of security,” he said.

“For the opposite of a therapist, you’re spot on.”

“I’m excellent at reading people,Roma.” He took my hand again and squeezed. “Get out of here. I have a gift for you when you do.”

This time, I enjoyed how warm the short embrace was. It almost felt…safe. It was strong enough to make me feel it, but it didn’t hurt me.

“What is it?” I asked.

I could sense his grin. “You’ll have to wait and see, Y.” He stood and fixed his suit. Then he headed toward the door, glinting like a ruby. He turned back toward me, as if he had just thought of something. “Your sisters call you Y. That short for Yimenosaurus?”

I laughed, and it hurt. “I’m impressed, but no.”

“That’s right. You threw off the initials of Italy with the name Roma.”

“Hard to find a name that starts with the letter Y.”

“Maybe. But I think you were born to break the mold.” The door opened a little wider. “I’ll be waiting for you to come and get your gift.”

“John.” I hesitated for a second. “You asked about all the dinosaurs. I’ve been obsessed with them since I was little. I had no clue why back then. Still not all that sure now. Except…I think it’s because I enjoy digging up things that no longer exist, but at one time did. I told one of my professors it was like finding true love, or a miracle. Most people don’t think either exists anymore, just like some people don’t believe dinosaurs ever did. It feels good to prove them wrong. It feels even better to touch the proof.”

“Moltobene.” His voice was a bit softer.

He left, and all I could do after was think about the last ten minutes. I’d heard his voice and his laughter. I smelled his cologne. But I couldn’t see the features of his face or body through the haze of blood.

Still, I was attracted to him in a strong way. It felt like there was an instant connection between us.

---