Page 20 of Reverence

I rolled my eyes, tossing my head back against the pillow.

“If you’re going to lecture me about this, don’t bother. You’re wasting your breath. I’m not in the mood, nor do I have the energy to argue with you.”

“Yeah.” His response was dripping with sarcasm. “Next time you’re on the verge of death, I’ll leave you to it.”

“I didn’t need your help, Ares. Because knowing you, you’ll probably hold this over my head for eternity. Everybody knows that’s how you operate.”

He moved to the side of my bed, gripping the railing with both hands and now his face was mere inches from mine but I instinctively turned my head away.

“You and everybody else know absolutely nothing about me.”

His teeth clenched as he spoke.

“At least now I know that you could experience a kiss from death and you’d still be a stubborn, hardheaded bitch.”

“Oh.” I drawled, slowly turning back towards him. “Did you want me to thank you for saving me in my time of need? Is that what this is about?”

“You think I want a fucking thank you? You—”

He stopped himself, his entire body tensed as he swallowed whatever words had been ready to leave his mouth.

“I’m not doing this with you.” He straightened abruptly and turned towards the door.

Perhaps some part of me felt grateful for his swift response but I didn’t want to admit that.

I hated that, out of everyone who could’ve seen me in that state, it had to be him.

The person I despised. He had seen me vulnerable. Seen me terrified. Seen me at my weakest.

And I hated the thought of that more than I could explain.

I didn’t want to be weak.

His back muscles flexed beneath the tight fabric of his compression shirt as he reached for the door.

“Valiente.”

I called his name without daring to look in his direction and he stopped abruptly but didn’t turn around.

“Thank you.”

The words left my lips quietly but sincerely while silence consumed the room.

He didn’t respond and after a few seconds, the door opened and closed behind him.

Hours later, when I finally returned to the hotel, I checked my phone to find an influx of messages.

My mother. Family members she must have informed. Friends. Colleagues.

Everyone wanted to know if I was okay but one message stood out among the rest.

An unsaved number.

Only two words.

You’re welcome.

Seven