My throat pulses where that rope burned me five days ago. Is Billy gone? Trapped again? What did Nico just do?
My eyelids feel like they’ve been glued shut. A lightning bolt of panic slices through me because what if they never open again? What if they look like Bonnie’s, milky white?
Blind.
“Should I open my eyes?” I ask Nico, because I can’t hear him.
“Yes.” Footsteps approach until a shadow falls across my eyelids, and I hear the soft thud of his knees hitting metal. “Open your eyes.”
I try to pry my eyelids apart, but the second I put any pressure on them, pain lances through my sockets like someone’s driving hot needles straight into my brain.
“They burn,” I say.
“I know.” I can feel his hands hovering near my arms, close enough that I sense the heat of them but not touching. “But you need to open your eyes. I need to see if he damaged them.”
Gritting my teeth, I gather all my resolve and force my right eye open.
Light pours in through the slit. A whimper escapes me before I can swallow it down, which is embarrassing, but it hurts so much I can’t pretend to be tough right now.
I force my right eye to stay open, then pry my left one open too. Nico swims in front of me like I’m looking at him through water. His hands come up to cradle my face, one on each side, and his touch is so gentle it makes my chest ache. He steadies me as the room pitches sideways, his thumbs resting just below my cheekbones.
“Good.” One hand stays against my face while he pulls the other back, holding up a finger. “Can you follow my finger?”
I track his finger as he moves it left, then right, then up and down. Slowly, focus returns to my surroundings, and the light stops hurting so much. I pull my knees up closer to my body so they don’t accidentally brush his.
Nico lowers his hands, shifting back onto his heels but staying kneeling in front of me. I take him in properly for the first time. He’s wearing blue plaid pajama pants and a gray hoodie. His eyes are bloodshot, but soft in a way I’ve never seen them.
My stomach does this weird lurching thing at how close he is. At how different he looks when he’s not glaring at me, and just looking at me.
His eyes search mine. All I can do is stare at the cloudy green color because it’s so pretty. I’ve never seen eyes that color. His brows draw together, creating a line between them. I have the ridiculous urge to smooth the line away with my thumb.
“Your pupils are responding,” he says. “Your vision should return to normal in a couple of hours. Can you see me clearly?”
I nod, but my head feels impossibly heavy, like someone replaced my brain with a bowling ball. I want to lighten the mood somehow because this is the only interaction we’ve had since the parking lot when he hasn’t looked annoyed, so I give him a smile. “Unfortunately.”
He exhales hard through his nose, and something flickers behind his eyes that looks almost like… guilt?
“Can you stand?” he asks.
“I think so.”
He rises to his feet in one smooth motion and extends a tattooed hand out to pull me up, lifting me with no visible effort. My knees wobble, and his other hand grips my elbow as I regain my balance.
His eyes run over me, up and down. “You sure you feel okay?”
“Yes.” I bury the memories of Rosie deep inside my box.
“Good.” He drops his hand, stepping away from me as his features harden. “Now we’ve established you’re all right, I can move on to being pissed the hell off. What thefuckwere you thinking? Do you have any idea what you just did?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not supposed to come down here.”
“I’msorry.” I try to focus on the numbing soles of my feet on the rough iron floor, grounding myself because his face won’t stay in focus. “I heard Billy’s voice in my head, and it was like I was in a trance. My legs carried me down here. The door was open. Billy kept telling me to come find him.”
Nico goes still. So utterly motionless that I wonder if he’s even breathing.
“You heard his voice?”
