AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let me go,” I challenge as I reach for the only weapon next to me: a high heel. It’s enough to cause some damage to the sensitive ego of his.
He glides me up to a sitting position and hesitates before he releases and runs his hands through his own hair, messing with the longer strands. “Is she—” He shakes his head. “Is she d...”
Guess I’m not the only one who stutters.
“She’s alive.” I turn my back on him and grab my shoes. “The cash I took from your pocket? Consider that a reimbursement for the transportation fees, the organic creams, the decorations in her room.”
“Is she upstairs?”
“No, you dick, she’s in a facility.” I place the heels on the chaise, soles up, and pick up the books to return to their rightful place.
“How did that happen?”
With a sigh, I glance toward the only window in the room. “I don’t know, but I found her here, propped up against the couch. She was reading. By the time I got here and noticed she wasn’t in the apartment, hours had passed. When the EMT’s arrived, they couldn’t give her any tPA’s. It was too late.” My last sentence tapers off toward the end. It still hurts to remember that night.
“What does that mean?” Tears nip at the corners of his eyes, but he strains to keep them at bay.
Devastation. I felt that too.
“Over forty-percent of her brain is dead.” My throat hurts from the memories. From not being able to do anything for her. “Close to fifty.”
“And?” Someone raised by such a beautiful soul isn’t cold blooded. Impossible, when he emanates so much heat that these book shelves are fodder for the fire.
“And what?”
“What does that mean for her?” he clips back, displacing his frustration on me.
Unfortunately, I offer nothing comforting. “It means, waiting.” I tuck one of the books into the shelf, aligning the spine with the other, nudging a few here and there until it’s a neat row. My back is turned to him, but I’m not afraid. He could have hit me if he wanted to, hurt me—but he didn’t.
There’s still a human in him, and that part of him needs privacy to crumble, so I give it to him. Fill the air with things he probably needs to hear.
“I visit her every other day between working here and the club. They only let me in for thirty minutes, but...” I swallow as I recall the nurses tying her hand to the bed. Not the kind of bondage Mama Rosa promoted.
“But what?” His voice remains raspy.
“But it’s enough time. It’s hard to carry a conversation when it’s one-sided. Her therapists told me to fill her room with memories, so I did.” I peek over my shoulder at him.
He’s still in the same exact position, just a little less alert. Swiveling back around to put the other two books in place, I remember the way Mama Rosa’s eyes lit up at the picture of her son. How she always reached for it with the hand that retained mobility.
“She reacts the most to your picture.” He doesn’t deserve to know anything about her, but he needs to know why I did what I did. Maybe he won’t kill me. “I read to her.” I hold one of Mama Rosa’s favorite love stories up in the air. “I skip over the naughty bits sometimes, but she enjoys them so... it’s kind of awkward.” I snort and wait for a comment but it doesn’t come. “The doctors say I’m doing something right because she’s very expressive.”
Another quick peek behind me. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose. Running my thumb along the edge of the bookshelf, I gloss over the titles on the spines. I had rearranged these books by alphabetical order, genre, level of kink and steam. Now, they’re less organized but color coordinated. ROYGBIV.
“She helps them, you know?” I talk to myself kind of like I talk to Mama Rosa, as not to intrude on his grief by being a witness. “When they give her a shower, she tries to wash her hair and scrub her intimate parts. She pouts at the granny nightgowns provided so I brought her some of her silk ones, in all the colors I could find. She seemed to enjoy them, and she really liked this unicorn robe I got her with a hoodie.”
“I really think she understands. She can’t talk back to me or tell me how they’re treating her, but she’s in there. At least I like to think so.” My throat constricts and I have to swallow, sniffling in the process. “She squeezes my hand.”
When he snatches up the sanitizer and squeezes some into his hand, I stop talking for a moment. I wish I had a camera to capture the look of disappointment on his face after the little whiff.. And the genuine smile that comes after, when he thinks I’m not looking.
Before he catches me staring at him disinfecting his hands, not sure why that turns me on, I lean down to pick up the last book. Navy blue goes on the second to last shelf, far right.
“Maybe four weeks ago—oh....” I spread across the chaise to get to the spot, and forget about the shoes. The heel jabs me in the side of my butt cheek. After a quick, embarrassing grunt, I straighten myself, which is a bit harder to do with my knees digging into the cushions.
I toss my shoes to the floor before I make a an extra hole in my nethers.“I thought about dropping an Alexa cam in there to check and make sure they’re giving her the love she—”
My breath hitches as Styx’s chest presses against my back. Down in the depths of my soul, an inkling stirs into a whirlwind. The way his lips linger at the base of my neck blows through me and lights me aglow.
Styx leans toward to my ear, jolting electricity down my spine. His exhales are warm; his inhales cool—depriving and capable of surfacing the most depraved thoughts from the inner folds of my conscience, like he raises the goosebumps along my skin.
