Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Come here,” he said tiredly.
I stayed where I was. “Are you going to get better?”
“Of course—” He winced, shuddering with pain. “—I always do.”
“Nico says you’re off to Morocco next.”
“The next race is in two months. It’s gonna be a rough one.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he explained. “Lots of bad turns, and there’s a huge gorge that—” He sucked in a breath. “Come push this button for me. I need more drugs.”
I remained still. “You can get it.”
“Yes,” he hissed. “I can. But I don’t fuckin’ want to! I want you to do it. I want you to come here and give a damn that I almost—”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, letting my head thunk back against the doorframe. “You know I care. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Please come here.”
I levered myself off the wall and crossed the room, stood over him and looked down at his bruised and swollen face, at his eyes, both with blood in them, the subconjunctival hemorrhaging which Nico had explained to me, looking and sounding worse than it was.
“I missed you.”
What was I supposed to say?
“Just hug me already.” His voice broke.
I felt horrible. He just needed comfort, and I was keeping that from him because of what was going on in my head, in my heart.
“Brian?”
His voice was so full of heart-tugging need it took everything in me to stay where I was.
“Hey, which one of the women out there is your girlfriend? I can go get—”
“No. I only want you here.”
He was saying everything I wanted to hear, in completely the wrong context.
“Could you hold my hand?” It was a request, and the trembling made him clench his jaw.
“You need to be more careful.”
“Come watch me—” His voice hitched with the roll of pain through his body that made him twitch. “—then you can make sure.”
“Give yourself some more drugs before you stress your body.”
“You do it.”
The button was in his hand. “Just press it already.”
“You.” He insisted like a child.
“Don’t be an idiot, you could go into shock.”
“Promise to come with me. I know you’re not afraid,” he whispered.
And he was right, I wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Getting busted up with fractured bones had happened to him so many times in the past, I was used to it. But having him die never entered my realm of possibility. I’d never worried about that.
“If you’re there, I’ll be okay,” he said as tears started to well in his eyes.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Varro,” I huffed, grabbing the button that pushed the meds and then pressing it quickly.
He was so hurt, just broken, but still he managed to take my hand before I pulled it back, and slid his fingers between mine.
“Let go,” I ordered lamely, since it was the last thing I really wanted.
“Why do you hate me now? What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything,” I said softly. “I promise.”
“Then how come we don’t talk like we used to?” He tensed in pain. “And how come I never see you?”
“People grow up, V.”
He whimpered in the back of his throat. “Just come with me so I can feel like me and not somebody else.”
“I’m not this important.”
He tried for a grin but winced instead. “Isn’t that for me to say?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, staring up at me with wounded, blood-filled eyes. “You know, you used to pet me when you thought I was passed out and wouldn’t notice.”
I had no secrets from this man.
“I liked that, and I liked listening to you breathe.”
God.
He was quiet for a minute, and I saw how hard he was fighting sleep. “Close your eyes.”
“You have to give me your word first that when I open them, you’ll still be here.”
“I could just lie.”
He almost laughed, but the attempt must have felt like someone punched him in the gut and stole all his air. “You—” He gasped. “—never lie to anyone, least of all me.”
I was done at age nine, him at ten, the day we met. The minute our eyes locked—that very first time—the bargain had been struck.
Look at me!
I see you!
Without my eyes on him, whatever he was doing wasn’t real. I got that because I was the same exact way. It was just that watching him was a full-time job and my life only happened in spurts.
“Bri?”
“I’ll come for a while. I don’t know how long.”
“Okay.” He exhaled, obviously relieved. “So you’re not mad anymore?”
“I was never mad.”
His relief over that fact made my heart drop.
“I’ll pay you to babysit me.”
“Yes, you will,” I guaranteed drolly.
He nodded, lifting his right arm. The left one was too mangled to move, broken in five places, with pins holding it together. “Bend down.”
I leaned over, and he put his right arm around my neck, buried his face in the hollow of my throat, and held me tight as he inhaled.