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My nostrils flare as I grab Naomi by the waist and gently toss her on the bed. She whimpers as her body hits the foam mattress. I crawl on top of her, placing both arms by her head, and she stares back at me, her eyes as fired up as mine as I put my hands on her. “You need to listen to me real carefully, Naomi. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you hurt London or know where she is, if I find out you are lying to me, it won’t end well for you. She is my life now. Nothing and nobody else matters the way she does, not even you. So tell me where the fuck she is.”

She bites her lip in clear defiance.

“Fucking tell me what’s going on,” I scream, slamming my fists right next to her head. “Why were you alone?”

She curls up beneath me, cringing at my sudden outburst of anger as if just realizing how serious this is for me. “I told you. I left him,” she cries out. “I left when he was meeting Nigel. I didn’t even tell him. I just fled.”

I shift my body slightly so I’m not pressing down on her. “I highly fucking doubt that, Naomi. Why would you just leave him? It doesn’t add up.”

She closes her eyes before they glaze over. She’s warm again, her fever cutting in and out. She needs to eat before she passes out for good.

I run my hand over her burning forehead and give her some water out of my pack. Then I pull a piece of hair from her eyes so I can really inspect her. If she’s lying, I’ll be able to tell. My anger quickly dissipates as I meet her soft brown eyes and see the girl I was friends with my whole life. For a few seconds, she is not the enemy as I viewed her over the past few months, the person who had a hand in my twin’s death.

She’s just Naomi, and I’m losing her, too.

“Why haven’t you eaten, Naomi?” I soften my voice. My hot temper doesn’t work in getting what I want from Naomi… It never has.

She swallows hard and looks at the door as if she wants to flee. “We split the food with Nigel. Ezra and I had to share, and Nigel took most of it. I don’t know where Nigel is. We weren’t staying together, and Ezra wouldn’t let me near him.”

I tilt my head. “And why is that?”

“Because Nigel is sick in the head, Micah. He killed Maison, and Ezra cannot simply ignore that.”

I scoff and suppress a twinge in my stomach as I run my hand through my hair. “Ezra chose his side. Tell me where you were staying.”

She blinks at me, then bursts into tears, her body radiating heat as she shakes her head. “No, you’re going to hurt him. I won’t let you hurt him again, Micah. But I promise you, they don’t know about this place. They have no idea where you are.”

I clench my jaw, not sure how to respond. She’s quiet now, whimpering as she turns away from me. Streaks of mud line her face, the dirt from her body all over the bed.

“Fuck, Naomi,” I mutter, checking myself, grasping onto whatever sliver of humanity I have left in me. “What am I going to do with you?”

I sigh, trying to compose myself, grappling with the complicated feelings I have for Naomi right now. I walk to the stove, turn it on, and boil some water. I need to at least clean her up and let her rest.

I watch her as I clean up the mess London left behind and bite back a swell of emotions as I pick up the sweats London was wearing when I left her.

I toss them into the corner and shift my attention back to Naomi, whose chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm. It reminds me of the way London sleeps.

The wrong girl is in my bed.

Fuck, London. Why did you leave, baby?

The outside world inevitably seeped into my distorted version of paradise. An outcome I can only blame on my regrettable choices. It’s like a punch to the gut thinking that London may never lie with me in that spot again and how it could very well be Naomi with whom I spend my final days.

I already miss the hell out of London.

I walk over and delicately place one hand on Naomi’s torso, the warmth of her skin teasing my fingertips. Slowly, I glide my hands down her stomach, carefully tugging at the waistband of her sweats, guiding them down her legs. She doesn’t even flinch as I grab her shirt and pull it off, leaving her completely nude.

My dick betrays me as I stare at her tits and watch as her nipples harden. I refuse to feel guilty about seeing her naked and enjoying it. It’s not like I haven’t seen her before, because I have—many times. But this time, it’s different because under no circumstances will I act on it. I’m sexually attracted to her—that was never the problem with Naomi, per se. I just don’t overly like her personality. I do my best to ignore her and shift my attention to London’s clothes, anywhere but Naomi’s body, picking out a new outfit for Naomi as she lies on the bed, her eyes barely open and her body still burning up.

“What are you going to do with me now?” she breathes out, her eyes closed, looking completely defeated.

I lean to her earlobe, and her body tenses beneath me. “You smell like shit,” I tell her. “I’m giving you a bath.”

Even in her semi-comatose state, a small smirk forms on her lips, and I ignore it as I drop a T-shirt into the hot water and soak her skin with it, starting with her arms.

“Whatever you say, Micah,” she mutters, but she’s clearly enjoying this.

I work my way up to her neck, then down to her legs, ignoring the obvious parts. She can wash those herself once she’s better.