“A what?” The knots in my shoulders start to burn. “What—who is that? What is this?”
I’d just started warming up to the guy, but if this fucker doesn’t tell me what’s going on, all bets are off.
“I’ll be back when Isolde is awake.” Hadrian’s hand is on the door handle when he pauses. “Face-to-face when you talk to Dimitri. Don’t put it off.”
The door shuts softly behind him.
The doctor glances up, his eyeglasses reflecting the lighting over the table. “The bullet wound was clean, but the greatest risk now is infection. Go shower. And make sure you wash your hands often.”
There’s only one bathroom in the apartment, and it’s not connected to the bedroom. Which means I'm as quick as I can, not liking the idea of me in the showerwhile some man is left alone in the living room. But the doctor is working on a crossword and doesn’t look up when I pad to the bedroom with only a towel around my waist.
Luis dropped off several bags, and I pull out a pair of boxers. I stick to the chair pulled up by the bed, watching her sleep. Underneath her baggy shirt is a large bandage where the bullet traveled through her abdomen.
Thanks to the broken nose that Tyler reset, her breathing is wheezy. It’s better to focus on that, though, than the bruising around her delicate neck.
I fucked up. It’s easy to berate myself for everything that’s happened. So I do. All the mistakes rattling in my mind as I watch her sleep.
Luis made sure we got her phone back, and nothing’s been left at the tarmac. I turn it on and look at the text she sent Luis.
There are several from her friends.
Lennie: Hey, I’m just checking in. I hope you’re feeling better. You know I’m always here if you want to talk.
Lennie: P.S. I found my dress and yes you can tell Luis it was one of his picks.
I frown, wondering what happened and why Luis was picking out wedding dresses.
Adeline: Len told me you were sad. I promise I’m not a nosy person and we don’t have to talk about it. But I will remind you that I sent you the number to a therapist and there’s no shame in talking to a professional.
There’s a slew of texts from Ren.
Ren: Luis helped pick out dresses????
Ren: No seriously like Luis and Gia were on dress duty together?
Ren: Off the shoulder, mermaid. Chef’s kiss
Ren: So when are we planning the bachelorette party?
I’m reading through the messages when Ren’s name pops up with an incoming call. I let it ring until it goes to voicemail.
I crawl into bed after several hours in the stiff chair. I don’t touch her. I leave lots of space between us. But I lie next to her, staring up at the ceiling.
When I wake up, it’s a surprise, and my body lurches until I remind myself where I am. It’s when I notice the hand curled around my own.
“Iz?” I lift my head. The bullet went through her left side, the one closest to me, so I’m extremely careful as I move.
Her head is turned toward the window, away from me. Her eyes are open, though.
“Iz,” I whisper.
Her fingers curl around mine, the touch light but just enough to let me know she hears me.
“Hadrian sent a doctor. Do I need to get him?”
A hum leaves her lips, and she barely shakes her head no.
I roll to my side, careful to keep our hands together. To keep any physical touch going.
