“He should be here, too.” The pain was clear in his voice. After a moment, Emery lifted his head. His face was so close, I could see the misery shining in his eyes. “He’d like you.”
“What about you?”
“I like you. Please….”
“Please what?” I’d do just about anything for him.
“Don’t hurt me.”
“Never.” One lone tear fell from my eyes as I promised. I could never dream of doing so. Ever.
Emery
My head felt like it was going to explode. I was scared to move.
I was using Ryker as my pillow, which was becoming a thing for me, apparently. He kept me safe, and I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me as long as I was with him.
I never wanted to move.
One of his hands ran up and down my back, keeping me from fully waking up. It was my pounding brain that was jarring me to the state of awareness. I wanted it to stop.
I’d rather feel nothing than this.
I hated migraines, and I should have known it was going to happen. All the signs had been there. Enzo would have known. He always knew when I didn’t.
A small whine left the back of my throat as my pain worsened.
“Head still?”
“Hmm.” If I moved, would I split in two?
I cried as Ryker moved slightly. “Open.” Keeping my eyes shut, I opened my mouth. When I felt the pills on my tongue, I swallowed them dry. There was no point in water. It was bad enough just breathing.
How could this man have the patience that my parents never had for me?
Keeping my head on his chest, Ryker pulled up the blanket around my shoulders once more.
A cold wash rag was laid over my forehead and eyes. The temperature helped dull the throbbing pain just enough to remember where I was.
“Again? Fucking worthless cunt,” Steven grumbled, slamming the basement door shut too loudly. I jerked but otherwise didn’t move. I didn’t have the energy. I had nothing left in me. Not after puking my guts up hours ago.
I hadn’t had such bad headaches before this. Maybe it was because I could take pain relievers whenever I could feel a light headache coming on, so it never became more than that. Or maybe this was a reaction from the concussion I had weeks ago. Who knew at this point?
The pain in my head at least dulled my sore throat from the hold that Steven had had me in yesterday.
“Just me now, Em.” Enzo’s soft voice floated through the haze.
But not for long enough. We both knew what kind of terror would welcome us in a few hours.
I blindly reached for his hand, which he gladly gave me, squeezing it in his. A beat later, the back of my hand was against his cold cheek.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t, babe. Just rest.”
“But—”
“Shh. Let me take care of you as best I can. Pretend we’re in our own place. Warm, full bellies, and so much money and space we don’t know what to do with it.”
