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Cassio seems no more eager to leave me. So when we collect my car from the Rosehill student lot, it takes little convincing to get him to come home with me. We make the short drive to my apartment in silence, his hand resting lightly on my knee the whole way.
Since the moment he saved me from a potentially horrible fate, Cassio and I haven’t had a moment to ourselves, a moment to just appreciate that we both survived the Matron. And as we ride the elevator up to the nineteenth floor of my building, we take the opportunity to simply hold each other, his arms enfolding me, keeping me close as I run my fingers through his mussed hair and over the planes of his face.
“Why is your scalp bleeding?” I ask as my fingers snag on the freshly formed scabs and come away slightly bloody.
“I’m pretty sure the Matron was trying to brain me with her nails for a moment there, plus I got knocked on the head pretty good at some point when her men captured Ellie and me.”
He says it casually enough, but when I find the solid knot at the base of his head, he clenches his teeth, trying to mask his pain.
“You’re a mess,” I observe, leading him by the hand out of the elevator as it opens on my floor.
He chuckles lightly. “I’m sure I’ve had worse.”
I raise my eyebrows as I look at him over my shoulder. “Do I even want to know?”
Shrugging, he smiles. “I grew up with two brothers and a father who thinks weakness is a disease only cured with strict punishment. What do you think?”
I shake my head, sure he’s making light of the situation for my sake. Pulling Cassio inside my apartment, I close the door behind him, locking it securely. Finally, we’re entirely alone, with no overbearing brothers or curious passersby stopping to ogle my shredded dress or his bloodstained tux on our way through my apartment lobby.
Cassio seems to be thinking the same thing as he turns to me. Both hands cradle my face as he leans in, kissing me tenderly. My lip’s still swollen from the backhanded slap I received from one of the kidnappers what feels like a lifetime ago now. But I don’t care.
It just feels so good to be here with him, the warmth of his skin making mine tingle with anticipation. I lean into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him more firmly against me. A pained hiss escapes Cassio as he sucks air between his teeth, and I freeze.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, releasing him and stepping back.
His face looks apologetic as he smiles weakly. “I think I might have a few broken ribs,” he confesses.
My eyebrows rise in bafflement. “Alright, that’s it. No morehappeningupon injuries you’ve failed to mention to me. I’m giving you a full exam, and you’re going to tell me exactly what happened since I lost you and Ellie in the woods.”
Gripping Cassio’s wrist, I steer him down the hallway to my bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. Then I get to work slowly removing the sullied layers of his once-fine clothing. His bowtie is long gone, lost early in the night if I recall correctly. I think it was missing when he first broke into the office to rescue me.
Easing his jacket over his shoulders, I listen as he explains how Ellie’s twisted ankle made it nearly impossible to get her up over the wall.
“She was trying and nearly to the top when they found us,” he explains as I move on to his vest. “But once they surrounded us, I couldn’t do much to stop them. They put a gun to my head, so I had the choice of dropping her once they killed me or letting them take her.” He swallows hard and shakes his head, his face frustrated.
“I’m sure she knows you did everything you could,” I say quietly as I unbutton his red-drenched white shirt one button at a time.
He shrugs, undoing his cuff links to help the undressing process. “I managed to cut two down pretty efficiently. That’s where I got most of this blood, I think, but there were too many to fight them all off. I’m pretty sure one hit me on the back of the head. That would explain the lump–and the fact that I may or may not have a concussion. Anyway, they got me onto the ground and….”
I gasp as I open his shirt to ease it down over his shoulders and find the black-and-purple bruises that already color nearly every inch of his arms and torso.
“Yeah, they kind of kicked the shit out of me.”
As delicately as I can, I graze my fingers over the worst of the bruises along the left side of his ribs, and he cringes, his abs flexing as he fights to stay still for me.
“Oh, Cass,” I breathe, tears stinging my eyes. He hasn’t uttered a single complaint over the amount of pain he’s endured to try and rescue me. And Ellie. But it must have been excruciating. Cuts, a concussion, and what I would agree looks like broken ribs–even if I have no medical experience–he endured it all to protect me. And he’s still by my side, fighting to be with me.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” I insist, meeting his eyes urgently.
“Seriously, I’m fine. What are they going to do for me anyway? They’ll just confirm my suspicions, tell me to take it easy and go home and get some rest, then bill me excessive amounts of money for the hours I spent waiting to hear what I already know. Besides, if anyone needs a doctor, it’s you, to patch up those feet.”
I glance down at my grime-and-blood-covered toes. They do throb something awful, but I gave them a preliminary inspection on the plane, and I’m sure they’ll be fine once I clean them up.
“How about we take a shower instead?” I suggest. “Then we can tape up your cheek and slap a few Band-Aids on my feet.”
Cassio chuckles warmly. “That sounds perfect to me.”
I open the glass-door to my shower and start the water, then turn to find Cassio stepping out of his blood-splattered dress shoes and ruined slacks. Even with bruises staining large sections of his body, he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.
