"Are you okay in there?"
I freeze.
Fuck.
Marina
The groan stops me cold.
I'm halfway to the kitchen when I hear it. Low. Guttural. The kind of sound a man makes when he's in pain and trying to hide it.
Damn it.
I told him this was a bad idea. I told him he wasn't ready. But did he listen? No. Because Dante Castellani doesn't listen to anyone.
I turn back toward the bathroom. My bare feet are silent on the hardwood.
Another sound. Muffled. I can't make out the word.
My hand hovers over the door.
What if he fell? What if he tore his stitches? What if he's bleeding out in my bathtub right now because he was too stubborn to ask for help?
I knock.
"Dante?"
Silence.
My heart pounds harder.
"Are you okay in there?"
More silence. Then?—
"I'm fine."
His voice sounds strange. Rough. Strained.
"You don't sound fine."
"I said I'm fine, Marina."
I press my palm flat against the door. "I heard you. You made a sound. Like you were hurt."
"I'm not hurt."
"Then what?—"
"I'mfine." The word comes out sharp. Final. "Give me two minutes."
I step back from the door.
Something feels off. His voice. The way he said it. Like he was caught doing something he shouldn't.
But what could he possibly be doing in there that?—
Oh.
