And still, the idea that someone had aimed their weapon at him and pulled the trigger, trying to do not the small amount of damage that they’d done, but rather trying to hit him squarely in the back, before tossing him, bleeding, into an unmarked van... They’d come horrifyingly close to that tragedy.
“I think I might throw up,” Casey said.
“Don’t you dare,” Ella said from the back as Rio quickly made a bowl with his blood-stained underwear and his hands.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna do much,” Thomas said, trying not to laugh. “Plus if blood makes her queasy, sticking that mess in her face isn’t going to help.”
“Blood doesn’t make me queasy,” Casey told him, told Rio. “I was just imagining a world where the men who shot you didn’t miss—and don’t say at, because A, it’s officially not funny anymore and B, you’re incorrect.” She looked over at Thomas. “I read somewhere that people with gunshot wounds are given a course of antibiotics. Proactively, to prevent infection. Because bullets are nasty.”
“Prophylactic antibiotics,” Thomas agreed. “Yes, that’s true.”
“Will he need a prescription for an antibiotic, in your esteemed medical opinion?"
"Oh, absolutely," Thomas said.
Rio made a noise of exasperation, and Thomas looked across Casey at him. “Science is science, Rosetti, whether you like it or not.”
“So he wasn’t shot at,” Casey confirmed. “He was shot.”
“He was shot,” Thomas agreed.
“And he’ll get the prescription and he’ll take every last pill, he promises,” Rio said. “Because science is science. But Jesus, the paperwork.”
Casey laughed, but it turned into a sob, and just like that, she was fighting tears.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay,” Rio reassured her.
It was funny actually. Everything he’d said back in the bar, he’d been saying to her. Casey knew that. And yet it was his admission that science is science that nearly overwhelmed her.
Rio was sitting there, holding her hand, looking at her. His entire heart was right there, in his eyes. “You all right? I’ll stop trying to make it a joke, because you’re right. They could’ve killed me, kinda the way they nearly killed you last night. That’s why I was so upset. That’s why I... forgot I was supposed to be Luc until Dave got back home.”
That was why he’d kissed her.
And she’d responded by being awful. “I’m so sorry—”
Rio lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her. “Casey, really, you don’t need to keep apologizing.”
“But I do,” she whispered. “You shared secrets with me, and I used them against you.”
“You did,” he agreed. “But you shared secrets with me, too, so I knew why you were so scared. And angry. Massively angry-scared.”
“I wanted to hurt you.” Casey closed her eyes, because this was too hard to say while she was looking at him. “So I did. Viciously. Intentionally. God, I’m vicious and awful. If I were friends with you, I would tell you to run. Run far away.” She leaned across him to Thomas. “Tell him to run away from me.”
Thomas was looking hard out of the window. “Nope, sorry, can’t, I’m not listening. Nope.”
“I don’t want to,” Rio said flatly. “Run away. Truth is, Casey, I love you. I’ll always run towards you. Always.”
Casey couldn’t breath, but it was okay, because she found everything she’d ever needed in Rio’s eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered again. “Me. Rio. You knew me as Luc, but I was always, always Rio. When I met you, the earth moved, and I know that sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. And every time we were together, I just fell harder, until... Here we are.”
Here they were. Indeed. Casey nodded and echoed the words he’d said in the bar—words she knew were for her, and only her. “Nothing makes sense without you.”
It was true.
“How about we both stop running and see what happens,” Rio whispered.
That was a very good idea.
