Page 56 of His Pet

LORENZO

Iturn onto my side and clench my jaw. Every time I move, explosive pain radiates from the gash on my back. Every muscle in my body aches.

I do well with pain. I always have. So right now, I know it’s bad.

There’s a worse problem I’m dealing with, however.

I close my eyes, hoping to go back to sleep. It was light outside when I dozed, and now there’s no hint of the sun drifting through the curtains. It’s pitch black in my room.

I wonder how far Amelia has made it.

When we got back, she insisted on going to get supplies. I have a meager first aid kit here, but it’s only enough to patch up a wound. There aren’t any pain killers or even any ice. We’ve also just about run out of food, especially food ‘edible’ for Amelia. There’s no way I would have made it to the store today, and maybe not tomorrow.

After she cleaned my wound and patched me up, I gave her the keys to my car and told her the directions to town. If she’s smart, she’ll disappear. Going to the cops will get her killed, and I’m certain she knows it. I wouldn’t have let her go otherwise.

Settimo already thinks she’s dead. No one will look for her. My biggest problem is figuring out how the hell to get back to Las Vegas with no phone or vehicle. Someone will come eventually, and I’m already thinking up the lie for what happened to my car. So far, I’ve got nothing.

“Fuck,” I grit, rolling back to my stomach.

I wasn’t ready to let her go. But I don’t know that I ever would’ve been.

Something reaches my ears from outside my door, and I open my eyes. I listen closely and make out a clinking sound.

Plates?

“Kitty?” I call, confusion clear in my voice. My brows knit, and I force myself to sit up, a groan barreling out of my mouth.

Feet patter outside my door, and it flings open. Amelia stands with my mother’s breakfast tray in her hands. Light from the hallway illuminates her silhouette, and when she flips on the light, I squint and lift my hand to shield my eyes.

“Finally, you’re up. I thought you were dead for a minute there.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, lowering my hand.

She tilts her head likeshe’sthe one confused. “Geez, grumpy. I was just bringing you food.”

She walks to the bed and sits on the side. Two strange looking hot dogs are on a plate and a glass of water sits next to it on the tray. Two pills rest beside the glass.

“Okay, so since you found it necessary to try and convince me my lifestyle is wrong, I decided to do the same. These are vegan, and they’re fuckingdelicious. Being vegan doesn’t mean you only get to eat salads and avocado toast. There are even recipes for mock steak. I’ve had it multiple times, and in my opinion—”

“Amelia.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes the tray toward me. “Whatever, don’t eat it. Starve yourself. I’ll get off on the irony, anyway.”

“Amelia, what are you doing here?” My tone is harsh, and I regret it, but can’t seem to make my suspicion go away.

She looks hurt for a moment, but then it must register what I’m asking. “Were you expecting me not to come back?”

I don’t answer, and her eyes move to her lap.

“I thought about it,” she says. “Pretty much the entire drive. But you already promised to let me go, and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I left you here to die.”

Pain pierces me, but it isn’t from my physical wounds this time. This is emotional. I almost don’t recognize it for what it is because I haven’t dealt with this kind of pain since I was a child.

She’s scared of what I’ll do to her. She isn’t here because she wants to be.

Of course she isn’t. I must be a fuckinglunaticto even think that could be a possibility.

I school my expression and speak with as little care as I can.

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