“Stop,” I croak, hating how weak my voice is. “Stop it before it’s too late. Before you say something you can’t take back.”
“It’shisfault you were hurt,” she continues, her mouth set in a grim line that tells me she’s already made up her mind.
A startling cold settles in my chest, and for the first time since meeting Piper at college, I despise her. “Oh, really?” I challenge.“Is that how it is with you and Lorenzo? That if you get hurt, it’s his fault?”
“That’s different.” She wipes at her tears angrily.
“How?” I demand. “How is it different, Pipes?”
“I can help you,” she continues as if I haven’t spoken. “You could go anywhere. Back to Paris. Or to London, fucking Antarctica if that’s what it takes. You could start over somewhere safe.”
Even though the genuine fear in her voice tugs at my heartstrings, it can’t compete with the desperate need to see Matteo, to touch him, to verify with my own eyes and hands that he’s alive.
I push the covers back, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Every movement sends daggers of pain through me.
“What are you doing?” Piper rushes to my side. “You can’t—”
“Watch me.” I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stand. The room tilts alarmingly, but I lock my knees and refuse to fall. I’m wearing one of Matteo’s t-shirts, nothing else.
“You have a concussion,” Piper explains desperately, hovering like she’s afraid I’ll topple over. “A mild wrist sprain, bruised ribs, and… you could have died. The doctor said—”
“I don’t care what the doctor said.” I take a step toward the door, then another, each movement a triumph of will over pain. “Where is he, Pipes? Where’s Matteo?”
Now that I’m upright and moving, I’m hit with an overwhelming need to pee. Which is just so fucking typical. Because with the way my bladder’s screaming at me, it can’t wait.
“I need the bathroom,” I grind out, turning around.
Piper follows me into the adjoining bathroom, leaning against the closed door while I take care of business. It’s far from the first time we’ve made a trip out of something as basic as peeing, but this time her hovering is annoying me.
When I stand back up, the room spins, and my stomach lurches threateningly, but I plant my feet and wash my hands. When I’m done, I look her directly in the eyes.
Piper has been my best friend for so long. She’s stood by me through every disaster of my own making. She loves me. But she doesn’t understand.
“I need him, Pipes,” I say, my voice steadier than it has any right to be. “Not later. Not when it’s safe.Now.”
“You don’t—”
“When you decided you wanted Lorenzo,” I cut her off, “after he literally stalked you for months, after he basically forced you to work for him and abused his power as your employer in ways that would make any HR department run in the other direction, what did I say?”
She falls silent, looking away. “You wanted me to call the police.”
I can’t help but smile. “That was after he broke into your apartment and basically sleep-raped you—”
“He did not,” she gasps.
“Did too,” I volley. “Neither of us can claim the moral high ground here, okay? Both our men are fucked up, and we’re worse for loving it. But it is what it is. I didn’t understand it with Lorenzo. I thought you were making the biggest mistake of your life. But I stood by you because it was your choice to make, not mine.”
Piper’s shoulders slump in defeat. She sniffles, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “He only just agreed to leave your side an hour ago. He’s in the kitchen with his cousins.”
Relief washes through me, so powerful my knees nearly give out. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s just down the hall.
“Take me to him,” I say, the words somewhere between a command and a plea.
Piper sighs, resignation and worry warring on her face. But she nods, offering her arm for support as we leave the bathroom.
Each step is agony, but with every painful inch forward, I’m closer to him. And that’s all that matters.
The hallway stretches like a never-ending tunnel, each step a special kind of torture. My ribs scream with every breath, and my head feels like it’s being squeezed in a vise. Okay, it’s not that bad. But close. Kind of.
