If Amber was strong enough to fight, I’m betting she’d jump out of bed in an instant.
“She’s making me sick on purpose.” Amber slams her head back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling in exasperation.
“Amber, you’re a piece of work,” I say.
She picks her head up and wipes her mouth with her forearm. “What’s wrong with me? Am I dying?”
My eyes wander toward Roméo, who’s still taking notes.
“Maybe,” he says without looking up.
Dang.
“Excuse me!” Amber says in her nasty tone. Here she comes. “What kind of shitty answer is that?”
Roméo glances at Amber and folds his hands in front of him. I admire his ability to maintain composure, because I already regret helping her.
“Hello?” Amber spits. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you.” Her face falls back down, and she proceeds to empty her gut.
“I see that,” Roméo says.
Amber coughs before lifting her head. “So answer me.”
“I already did.”
Oh, I like him.
“‘Maybe?’ That’s your answer?”
“Precisely.”
“All of you get out.”
“You don’t give the orders here,” Roméo says, towering over Amber. “It would be in your best interest to get rid of that attitude of yours. We’re the only ones here who can help you. So take some time to process that.”
“Jerk-off, who the hell are you?” Amber asks.
“All right, everyone out,” Roméo orders. “Lock her door. She’ll be screaming for help soon enough.”
“No, I won’t.”
“We’ll see.”
Bruno and Cole arrive with the change of clothes and more towels just as Bill, Grace, Roméo, and I exit the room.
“Oh shit. She’s dead?” Bruno looks disappointed.
Bill shuts her door and shakes his head. “She’s fun.”
“Told you,” I say.
“You don’t need the change of clothes?” Cole asks, as if he had to run a marathon and sacrifice his firstborn to get it.
“Not right now. Roméo here is letting the princess stew in her own juices. See how she likes it,” Bills says with a snicker.
“Now we talk,” Roméo says. “Let’s go to my room.”
Once inside Roméo’s room, we stand nervously, waiting to hear his diagnosis.
None of us sit down. Instead, we lean against the wall, and Roméo sits on his bed with his head in his hands. He takes a few deep breaths and runs his hands through his slick, sweaty hair.
It feels like minutes pass while we wait for the monitor to speak, to tell us something. And then he opens his mouth.
“Before I tell you anything, I need to know I can trust you. All of you.”
“Are you kidding me?” Bruno steps forward slightly. He looks like he is about to pounce on the guy.
“We’re risking our lives by keeping you down here,” Cole says. “We could have just delivered you to Wilson.”
“Then why haven’t you already?” Roméo’s tone is sharp, surprising.
No one speaks at first.
“Because Sutton trusted you,” I say, trying to push back tears. “He believed in you. He thinks you can put an end to … all of this.”
Roméo shakes his head. “Sutton. Sutton was a romantic, a fool.”
“What did you just say?” I ask.
“How can you say that?” Grace adds. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know a fool when I see one.”
Just like that, something snaps in me, and I go right for his throat.
I’m in a rage, hot, sweaty, and determined to choke the life out of this bastard. Thoughts fly to a broken Sutton face-down on the stage as Wilson kicks him in the ribs. Sutton trusted him. He trusted that if he could just make the monitors see what was happening, that everything would change, that they would put an end to the regime. Sutton believed, and I will not allow this man to belittle him, to make him out to be some hopeless idiot.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute, Lexi.” Cole pulls my left arm back as Bruno pulls my right. I’m off the ground, suspended in air, feet kicking in the direction of Roméo’s head.
“What’s wrong with you? Let me go!”
“If I let you go,” Cole says, “you need to promise me that you are going to calm down.”
My heavy breathing and racing heart bang in my ears. I am all adrenaline, emotion, and limbs. Huffing, I charge toward Roméo again, my left arm somehow slipping from Cole’s grasp.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Bruno grabs me around the waist and pushes me back toward Cole as the two of them hold me in place.
“We need to hear him out, Lexi,” Cole says calmly in my ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “If he says or does one thing I don’t like, I will personally take him out.” Cole shoots a threatening look his way.
“And I’ll help,” Bruno adds. “In fact, it would be my pleasure.” A smile crosses his face. I think Bruno truly enjoys messing with people.