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My arms are in permanent cramps from being tied behind my back for so long. I tried to wriggle out of this position, but guess fucking what? It’s hard to be Houdini when your body is on the brink of death. I’ve heard stories about mothers lifting cars off their children. I can’t even get my arms out of these bonds.
“Rome.”
I let my chin rest against my chest. He could have killed me, and that would have been kind of the bastard. But he didn’t, and now I’m still alive. The silver lining to being alive is that I’m going to hold up my end of the bargain with Rome. We’re getting out of here together. It would be pretty selfish of me to float away on my own, wouldn’t it? Can’t do that.
“Rome.” I’ve been saying his name for hours. Maybe days. Maybeyears.Soon I’m going to lose my voice, and if he doesn’t wake up before then, we are well and truly fucked.
“Rome, wake up. Rome!”
Finally. He stirs, groans, and relief as pure as uncut cocaine washes through my veins.
“Rome, oh my god.”
Rome murmurs something unintelligible that sounds like a string of curse words, as he pushes himself upright on the mattress. Damn, he’s beautiful. Those blue eyes. That wiry body. It’ll be a pleasure to lay down next to him on the mattress and close my eyes for the very last time.
His eyes open wider. “Fuck, Avery, what happened?Christ.” He scrambles up, noticing the dart in his chest at the last moment. A swift yank removes it from his chest, and he lets it clatter to the floor. Rome takes in the food gone bad on the concrete and me, tied to the chair. “What did he do?”
Rome’s unsteady on his feet. I’m worried about it, briefly. But then I remember, we’re leaving this place. We’re getting out. He won’t have to be hurt anymore.
It’s only a matter of time, now. He moves behind me and unties my wrists.
My body screams from the pain, and I tip forward, cramping up in every possible way. Rome is barely there to catch me.
“I’m fine,” I gasp, against his shoulder.
He lets out a rumble of a laugh. “You fucking liar.”
Somehow, somehow, he still smells like himself. I inhale it like I breathed in the food. “He tried to feed me,” I say into the cotton of his t-shirt. “So I bit him.”
“Nice.” Rome pulls away, scanning with more attentiveness now. “Did he hurt you?”
The anxious undertone to his voice smashes my heart on the floor along with the food. Who’d have thought that Rome, a Montague, would ever be worried about me again after what I did to him? Not me. Definitely not me.
“He stabbed me with a fork.” How has my life gone so wrong thathe stabbed me with a forkis a sentence I casually utter to someone else? And it’s not even the worst possible sentence. “It hurt like a bitch.”
Another laugh bubbles up and floats out of my mouth. Rome doesn’t crack a smile. His blue eyes darken a shade. He pulls me close again, but it’s only so he can lift me into his arms and carry me to the mattress.
“I’ll take care of it.” Oh, this mattress feels so fucking good. That chair is hell. The mattress is six inches short of heaven, isn’t it? Rome’s breath reappears above me. Then there are hands on my skirt, lifting it away from my thighs. In another life this could have been sexy. Far in the back of my brain, an old connection snaps to life. Hands on my skin. Hands between my legs. The ache of desire. I let out a groan at the memory of it. Rome’s hands stop.
I open my eyes and look into his.
“You know, you don’t have to do anything for this...this fork stab wound.” He still doesn’t smile. “We’re not leaving here anyway. He said he was leaving us down here forever. That’s what he said.”
I give a little shrug, like I’m relaying something a professor said in college that didn’t affect me one way or the other.
Rome frowns. “I’m still going to clean it up.”
He dabs some rubbing alcohol on it with a torn-off piece of gauze, which draws a hiss out of me, as surely as it might draw out any infection. His fingers are quick and confident. How many people has he fixed up just like this? What has his life been like after I destroyed it? I know more of it now, but not all of it, not by a long shot. And that’s really too bad. Too bad there’s not enough time to know every single thing there is to know about Rome Montague.
“Why, though?” Isn’t that a surprise? My eyes were closed. Now they’re open again, for the moment.
Rome looks down at his handiwork on my exposed thigh. His eyes gloss over. “Because someone might find us one day. And I want them to know that I cared about you.”
My heart throbs. Oh.Oh. If someone comes across our bodies, he doesn’t want them to think that he didn’t take care of me.
My heart cracks inside my chest once more.
“And anyway.” He tugs my skirt back over my wound. “You bit that fucker. You think he’ll give up an opportunity to get his revenge?”
