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"No, I can walk."
So I did, shoes in hand, leaning against him for support. He let me get as far as the room door then scooped me up and carried me inside. Even that brief trip to the bed, rocking against his warm body, was almost enough for me to drift off again.
But then, perversely, as I was finally lowered into the proper place for sleeping, the fog of the past hour parted and everything rushed back.
I saw Bianca's face as the gun fired. Her killer standing over her body. Benicio's guard, face destroyed, looking up at me, gaze empty. William reeling back, eyes wide with disbelief. Troy in a pool of blood.
I saw it all and I felt it all, the delicious chaos of destruction and death.
As I started to shake, Karl
rubbed my arms, leaning awkwardly over the bed, then he sat and tugged me onto his lap. I huddled there as he whispered and stroked my hair. Was it only yesterday I'd silently cursed him for not knowing how to comfort me when Jaz and Sonny disappeared?
I let myself stay for a couple of minutes, then pushed away and wiped my eyes. As my vision cleared, I saw the last remnants of my mascara smeared across his white shirt.
"I hope you didn't want to keep that," I said.
He straightened his arms, the cuffs riding up his forearms. "Not really."
I looked at the ill-fitting shirt, tear-streaked and mascara-stained, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In the last few hours, I'd yelled at him, kicked him, punched him and thrown up on him, and he was still here. Selfish? I'd never call him that again.
He pulled back the thick white comforter and sheets, and laid me down.
"I'm not really ready for bed yet," I said.
"I know. I'm just making you comfortable. I'd offer you a drink but..."
"Not the way I like to handle things. And probably not a good habit to get into."
"Agreed." He paused. "A bath?"
Any other time, that would have been the right answer. There was nothing like a bath for giving me time alone with my thoughts. But tonight even thinking about being alone, I started to shake again.
"I--I don't think I can do it, Karl." I looked up at him, my eyes filling. "If that's what it's going to be like...If it's only going to get worse...I don't think I'm going to make it."
The last words came out as a sob, cut off as Karl's lips pressed against mine. His hands went to my cheeks, holding me still as he pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his lips still touching mine.
"I--I'm sorry," I said. "I don't mean to--"
"Shhh. Here, focus on this."
The room went dark, a vision flashing, but I pulled up straight, shaking my head hard enough to scatter the vision and knock his hands from my cheeks.
"P--please. No more. I'm sorry. I can't handle any--"
"Shhh. Just look. It's okay."
The vision flickered and I tensed. Then, like peeking open one eye, I snuck a quick look.
I was crouched on a dark rooftop. At the distant roar of an engine, I walked to the roof's edge. Far below, car lights crawled along a busy road. A horn honked. I cocked my head but around me, all was silent.
A slow survey of the rooftop. Adrenaline still surged from a narrow escape. Too narrow, I chided myself. I was too cocky. Took too many chances and came too close to paying the price. But it felt good. So damned good. And I was good enough to pull it off.
A small laugh. Karl's laugh.
My clenched fist opened and I looked down to see a black-gloved hand and, nestled in the palm, a diamond bracelet glittering in the moonlight.
"Yes?"
