‘I know,’ I said. She disappeared into the hallway and I shut the door after her.
The room felt so much smaller now that it was just Nic and me. I had to sit on the bed to catch my breath. That’s the trouble with broken ribs; even standing becomes problematic after a while.
‘So … that was awkward,’ he offered, coming to stand in front of me, his knees almost touching mine. The strain of the encounter was indented above his eyebrows. ‘I guess she hates me.’
‘She’s just protective,’ I offered, not quite meeting his eyes, or he’d see what I really meant: Oh man, she hates you with the fire of a thousand suns.
‘That’s the funny thing,’ he said, without smiling. ‘So am I.’
‘I know.’ I echoed the sadness in his voice. ‘I know you are.’
The silence stretched out, the heat between us keeping us there, like two magnets just shy of touching.
‘So,’ he said, his voice quiet, ‘I should probably leave you alone now.’
I prickled under the heat in his gaze. It was strange how, even now, after everything, he could make me feel so laden with emotion. I wasn’t sure if I liked or hated how on edge he made me. ‘Yeah,’ I said, getting to my feet and heaving through the surprising effort it took. He stepped back to give me room, his hands outstretched to steady me if I needed them. ‘You should probably get lost. I would like to survive until my prom at the very least.’
He didn’t smile. I wasn’t smiling either. I was still partially hunched over, the lingering discomfort in my ribs making it hard to stand up straight. My face was a collection of pooling bruises – fluorescent yellow bleeding into faded purple that formed blotches underneath my eyes and along my jaw. I couldn’t speak more than a few sentences at a time. This was how he’d remember me.
We lingered halfway between the door and the bed. This was the moment we had been speeding towards since the day I found out who he was – this was the moment we said goodbye. And now it was here, I just wanted it to be over.
‘So,’ I said, turning from him. ‘I’m going to take off …’
‘Soph.’ Nic tugged at my arm, pulling me around to face him.
‘Don’t,’ I said, suddenly afraid of our proximity and how it shot through my emotions like an arrow. ‘I have to go.’
His fingers brushed my chin. ‘Look at me.’
I looked at him, past the dark eyes, the olive skin and the careful swoop of his hair. I made myself look at him, I made myself see him. There was blood on his hands. The fog was clearing, and I couldn’t ignore it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Millie and my mother were waiting for me. I placed my hands on Nic’s chest, feeling the hurried thump of his heartbeat as I pushed him away. ‘Look, Nic, what you did in the warehouse …’
‘I know,’ he said, his eyes closing. ‘You’ll never forgive me.’
‘You’d be a fool to ask for my forgiveness, knowing that you’re still going to go after him.’
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything at all. He wasn’t finished with Jack, and his feelings for me weren’t going to change that. He would never choose me over his family.
‘Goodbye, then,’ I said.
‘Goodbye, Sophie,’ he whispered unsteadily. ‘Bella mia.’
He pulled away from me, out the door, and by the time I made it into the hallway he was already disappearing into Luca’s room, back to his brothers, back to their world.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE CUT
Aside from the obvious injuries – a swollen nose, some thorny ribs and a general pervading sense of my own mortality – Jack’s beef with the Falcones had gifted me something else, too, only I didn’t find out about it until I got home.
Post-traumatic Stress Disorder: post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that’s triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.
Great. I stared at my faint reflection in the laptop screen as the words settled in. I looked like a very sad, very sleep-deprived panda.
Everything had changed, and being back in my house and sleeping in my own bed only made that more apparent. Sophie Gracewell, one-time expert at sweeping things under the rug and reigning queen of the ignorance-is-bliss hypothesis, had disappeared. Or been killed, I guess, given the circumstances.