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She pulls her lips from mine and grips my hair, tugging my forehead against hers. “Please. Adam. Fight,” she murmurs before dashing downstairs.
I lean back on the hard steps digging into my back and stare up at the ceiling, which in this part of the building, is flat. Tears roll down the side of my face as I close my eyes and struggle for breath. Left on my own, I let my appearance of strength fall away. The darkness swallows me up.
My body jerks, rocking from the bustle of the carriage, forcing me awake. The pain is soothed by the warm bosoms my face is pressed up against. I know instantly by her scent that it’s Olivia. She’s running her fingers through my hair and rubbing my back. Her tears splash against my face as I nestle into her.
“Olivia…” I murmur.
“Adam!” she gasps. “Oh, thank goodness,” she whispers against my hair. “Just a moment longer, my love. We’re almost there!” Her lips come down fast on top of my head. “Hold on just a little while longer.” She sobs.
Groaning, I lift my head to look up at her. She smiles at me, but her eyes are strained. The tears don’t stop falling. I kiss the air lightly, communicating with her what I want, and she sniffles through a light laugh before joining her lips with mine.
“You smell amazing,” I whisper as our lips part.
She shakes her head. “You’re such a liar. I smell of sweat and stained sex.” She grimaces.
“And vanilla and lavender,” I say.
“You’re hallucinating. That’s certainly worn off.” She rakes her fingernails through my beard.
“Not entirely,” I say while smiling at her. “I still smell it here.” I press my nose between the dip of her clothed cleavage and nip at her breast.
She scoffs. “Even when you’re dying, you’re still a rake,” she jests.
She’s right. This feels like death. It’s excruciating being rocked from side to side as we pass through an uneven path, folded up like this, in a small carriage. But I can’t stare at her weeping a second longer. She doesn’t deserve this much pain.
“Your rake.” I groan. “Only yours. Always and forever. I love you too, Olivia.” I breathe.
She smiles and kisses me softly before her orbs leak once more. “I know.” She whispers, and her lips tremble. “I know.” Her chest shakes uncontrollably, and she struggles with suppressing gasping sobs.
“What is it?” I swallow past the gravel in my throat. “What’s wrong, my love?”
“Your skin.” She shivers and rubs my arm briskly. The motion causes sharp stabbing sensations to shoot through my ribs, but I’m too tired to do anything about it. “It’s become cold to the touch,” she shudders, “and damp.” She chokes before slapping the top of the carriage and yelling at them to hurry up.
“What?” I say, creasing my forehead. “That’s strange. I’m so warm and toasty, snuggled against you,” I lie. The cold hits me unexpectedly, like a shock to my entire body all at once. One moment I’m warm; the next I’m freezing. Yet, my body must be too spent to expend energy on shivering. “You know what we should do after this?” I say, trying to distract myself from the dropping temperature.
She clears her throat, but her voice is still a broken whisper. “What?” she asks.
“Leave that wretched mansion and its horrible memories behind; move somewhere, anywhere you want, where we can build a life together,” I mutter as my words slow, and it becomes harder to catch a breath.
I’m vaguely aware of her slapping my face. The action seems to work as my eyes open, and I look up at her blurred countenance smiling at me.
“Hold on to that image, Adam. I want many more years with you,” she pleads.
I smile up at her because it’s taking too much of my breath to speak anymore. At last, the carriage pulls to a stop, and the doors open.
“We’re here,” a voice says from behind me.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Olivia sighs. “Please. Hurry. We’re losing him. Please. Don’t let him die.”
I don’t know when I leave the carriage; all I know is that I awake in a room lit by candles. There’s groaning coming from a body outside of my own and when I turn my head, in the far corner, I can see the hint of bedspreads and furniture legs. There’s someone on that bed, but I can’t make out who it is. To raise myself into a sitting position, I yowl as heat races through me and bangs against my bones as if it’s trying to slice through my skin.
“Adam…” A gasp followed by a gentle touch stops me from spiralling out of control. “You’ve been cut and have bled out. There was a lot of internal bleeding, and the doctor thought it best to apply bloodletting to allow the blood to leave the body. He said that you wouldn’t survive, but you’re alive. You’re alive!” She grins and sobs at the same time. “How do you feel?” she whispers.
My fingers come across the bandage wrapped around me, as I run my hands down my torso. “It hurts like hell.” I bite my lip and groan.
She jumps up from the armchair beside the bed and runs toward the door while I look at her departing back in confusion. Moments later, she returns with the doctor I recognize, who has been my private doctor and for my army of men throughout the years. His mouth falls open as he stares at me.
“Well, isn’t this a wonder?!” he says. “I thought she might have been hallucinating when she came to me just now. But I’ve seen it for myself! You must be invincible after all, Adam Molotov.” He claps his hands together and hurries toward me with a wooden vessel, which he presses against my chest.
