Page 150 of Lovely Venom

I move from one side of the bed to the other, never quite feeling settled. Time moves slowly when you’re waiting for a miracle.

At one point, I’m certain it must be morning, but when I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside.

Eventually, I slip into another dream, and this time, it’s so tangible, I can feel his fingers on my face as he brushes my hair aside.

Tears track down my cheeks, and I let out a broken sound as I call out his name.

“I’m right here, gattina.”

My breath stalls, and my heart pounds as confusion and hope war inside me. It feels so real, I want to believe it, but I’m scared to look. I’m afraid when I do, I’ll lose him in the dream and wake up to my empty reality.

But as I linger between both worlds, I absorb too many sensory details. The warmth on my face. The solid weight dipping the mattress beside me. The inexplicable feeling of his presence.

I can’t ignore them, and when I finally open my eyes, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed.

I blink, wondering if he’ll disappear, but he doesn’t, and as my brain registers this is actually real, a sob wrenches from my chest.

“Gattina—”

Before he can finish, I scramble up and launch myself at him.

He catches me with a grunt, and I settle onto his lap and press my hands to his face.

“Cristian—” My voice shatters.

“I know, baby,” he says roughly, wrapping me in his arms and cradling my head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” I choke on my tears. “It was all my fault. You were right there, and I didn’t touch you, and I thought…I thought it was going to be the last time.”

I’m not sure what I’m saying even makes sense to him, but I don’t think it matters. He holds me, offering his special brand of comfort while I cry it out. I don’t know how he always finds a way to make everything okay, but he does. His murmured assurances and the steady beat of his heart soothe some of the agony of the last two days.

Once I’ve finally gathered myself, I pull back to meet his gaze and verbalize the most pressing question.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m better now that I’m here.” His warm fingers trace the curve of my face.

“What happened out there?” I rasp.

He hesitates for a moment, letting out a harsh breath as he shakes his head. “Ares called me when we were out on the water. I almost didn’t answer it.”

A knot settles in my stomach as I consider how Ares might be connected to this.

“What did he say?”

“He told me someone had planted a bomb on our boat. I thought he was just fucking with us, but we stopped to check. One of the crew found a maintenance panel had been sealed shut. We couldn’t access it, and all of our emergency gear had been removed. We had no choice but to jump overboard, and we were swimming away when it exploded.”

“Oh my god.”

The full weight of it crashes over me as I realize how close he came to not making it.

Now that my eyes have adjusted, I can see that he has cuts and bruises all over him, and what appears to be stitches in his forearm.

“What happened after that?” I swallow. “Did someone pick you up?”

“The blast dragged us under, and I lost my phone. We used pieces of the debris to float and drifted with the current until we found a small island. It was uninhabited and mostly woodland, but we stayed there until someone found us.”

“Did you go to the hospital?” I ask, worrying he might have more injuries he doesn’t know about.