I drop my phone on my chest. Stare at the ceiling.
I hate him.
The thought burns through me. Hot and sharp.
I hate him for coming here.
I hate him for the way my chest ached when he said my name.
I hate him for making me feel anything at all.
One whisperedMarinathat I can't get out of my head.
It's all he said and he destroyed all the healing I've done so far.
I roll onto my side. Face the back of the couch. Pull the blanket over my head.
A few hours.
Then he's gone.
Then I can go back to pretending none of this ever happened.
CHAPTER SIX
Dante
Pain drags me back to consciousness.
Not the sharp, screaming kind from before. This is deeper. A dull throb that pulses with every heartbeat, radiating from my left side like someone shoved a hot coal under my ribs and left it there to smoulder.
I keep my eyes closed. Take stock.
Soft mattress beneath me. The quiet hum of a refrigerator somewhere in the apartment. Traffic sounds filtering through windows.
Marina's apartment. Still here. Still alive.
Her face when she opened the door.
I shift slightly and immediately regret it. Fire lances through my side. I bite down on the groan that wants to escape, but something must show on my face because I hear movement from across the room.
"You're awake."
I open my eyes.
Marina sits in a chair she's dragged from somewhere. Kitchen, probably. She's changed clothes since... whenever I last saw her conscious. Dark jeans. A loose sweater that hangs off one shoulder. Hair pulled back in a messy knot. Dark circles under her eyes that tell me she hasn't slept.
She looks exhausted. Beautiful. Furious.
There she is.
"How long?" My voice comes out rough. Sandpaper over gravel.
"Ten hours." She doesn't move from the chair. "Dr. Marchetti said you'd sleep through most of the first day. Something about your body needing to heal."
Ten hours. I've been unconscious in her bed for ten hours while she was probably planning seventeen different ways to murder me the moment I could appreciate it.
My bladder makes itself known with sudden, urgent clarity.
