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I can’t help looking over at Elena. “Is she…?”
Prince understands me, and now he does laugh. At least it doesn’t seem like there’s any bitterness or nastiness to it, which is a change. “She’s fine. Just sleeping.” That doesn’t exactly soothe my fears, though.
“Check her pulse if you want to,” Enzo offers. “She’s unconscious, the way you were.” I look at him, and our eyes meet, and it’s clear the mention of that night has him thinking back. He’s wearing a thoughtful expression, searching my face like he’s looking for a sign of something. Recognition? Understanding?
“So long as I didn’t just witness you killing her.”
“So what if you did?” There’s the Prince I remember from before. I guess his close call didn’t change much about him. If I were him and somebody had almost murdered me, I might think about changing a few things in my life. But not him. He’s blithe, almost gleeful. Like it had been too long since the last time he knocked a girl out.
“Are you really all right, though?” Enzo pulls me to my feet. “Do you need some water, maybe?”
Yes, I’m sure water will help me forget the sound of Prince’s gun making contact with the back of Elena’s skull. She is pretty far from being my favorite person, but she’s still a human being. “No, I’m fine. Though I could use a trip to the bathroom. I want to splash water on my face.” And maybe throw up.
“Why don’t you do that, then go to your room?”
My heart sinks, and a soft moan of dismay stirs in my throat. I should have known. Now he’s going to get me out of the way and do terrible things to her while I’m not watching. He doesn’t want me to see.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Oh no. You have the wrong idea. You look like you could use some rest.” He steers me from the room, and I don’t miss the way Prince smirks as we pass him. Enzo gives him a filthy look that wipes the expression off his face before we walk through the living room, then up the stairs.
I can’t believe I just witnessed that. I basically took part in a crime. It’s not like I thought we were inviting Elena over out of the goodness of our hearts or anything. I knew something was going to happen once she got here.
But now she’s unconscious, and she can’t defend herself, and part of that is my fault.
Would you have done anything differently if you knew?That question taunts me, echoing in the back of my mind as I stand over the bathroom sink and splash my face with cold water. Would I have done anything differently had I known what they’d do to her?
Maybe I didn’t think about it enough, or at all. I only saw the importance of getting her here. Just like before, in the beginning, when all I saw was a way to quickly and easily get out of the trouble I was in with school, with my tuition. I never thought about what might happen, all the reasons I might not want to take such a risk.
I can barely look at myself in the mirror after splashing my face one last time.
I expected him to go back downstairs, but instead, he hands me a towel and watches as I pat my face. “Are you going to be all right? You’re not sick, are you?”
“Just feeling a little shaky. But I’ll get over it.”
“You’re sure?”
I lower the towel. “Sure, yeah.”
He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it a little as he backs away so I can step out into the hall. “I only want to be sure.”
It’s almost sweet how worried he is. And I don’t think that after everything he’s put me through, there’s anything wrong with me feeling a little smug. He could have killed me more than once throughout this whole nightmare. Who could blame me for enjoying his concern a little bit?
But I’m not a monster, either. “You don’t have to worry about me every minute of the day, you know. We have a lot of months ahead of us. You’re going to wear yourself out with all this worrying.”
“This isn’t exactly easy for me. I don’t have anything to do with carrying the baby. I’m standing on the outside, looking in.”
Right, and he’s not used to being the one standing on the outside, being out of control. Now I’m starting to get it. This isn’t only the concern of a first-time father—which would be bad enough. He feels like his whole life, his whole purpose, is wrapped up in this. And it’s driving him out of his skull not to have control over every last aspect of it.
It seems wrong for so many reasons, having a conversation like this while Elena is downstairs, unconscious. Like the last thing on my mind should be my relationship with Enzo. And I’m surprised he’s taking the time to talk with me when he has so many things to do now.
The intensity in his eyes when he stares at me, though, tells me he’s not distracted. He’s fully here in the moment with me. “I promise, if anything seems even slightly off, like just a little bit, I’ll tell you about it right away. No secrets and no stalling. You’ll be the first to know.”
“I appreciate that. And you know I’m going to hold you to it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
He looks toward the stairs, remembering what else is going on, I guess. “I’m going to need you to stay up here now. In your room.”
