Page 165 of Romeo

Tears spilled down my face.

Me: You shouldn’t say things like that.

Jasper: Why?

Because I was already halfway believing anything he told me. Because tonight had shown me exactly what trusting him could cost if one day he didn’t come back.

Me: Because I believe you.

The screen changed before I could think of anything else. A video call with a picture of Jasper on the screen. I stared for half a heartbeat before accepting.

His face appeared, and my stomach dropped. Blood covered the front of his shirt and streaked his neck. More marked one cheek and the line of his jaw. The poor connection distorted the image every few seconds, but not enough to hide the red.

A sob tore free.

“Cher...”

“Oh my God.” I clamped one hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, Jasper.”

“I’m okay,” he said quickly. His voice sounded rough, exhausted, but steady. “Fiona, I’m okay.”

I couldn’t answer. The blood had swallowed everything else.

“Fiona.” His voice sharpened just enough to cut through the panic. “Look at me.”

I forced my eyes away from his shirt. His face was bruised. A cut marked his cheek, and exhaustion had settled into the lines around his eyes, but he was there.

Looking at me.

Talking to me.

“I need to go outside,” I whispered.

“What?”

I glanced around the room.

Everyone was watching now. Georgie had taken a step closer, his expression darkening as he caught sight of Jasper on my screen.

“I can’t do this here.”

Jasper didn’t ask why. “Then go. I’ll wait.”

I headed toward the door before anyone could stop me. The warm August air hit my face the second I stepped outside. I walked around the side of the building until I was out of the view from the windows, then leaned against the wall and pulled in a shaky breath.

The rough surface pressed into my shoulders.

Solid.

Real.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m alone.”

Romeo shifted his phone, and I finally let myself look properly. Most of the blood really was on his shirt. The cut along his cheekbone looked shallow, and although there was another near his temple, nothing I could see explained the amount of red covering him.

“It’s not all mine,” he said quietly.

My stomach turned. “How much is yours?”