Chapter 179

I gasp suddenly awake, my heart pounding, sitting up fast in my bed.

Immediately, I realize that that was a mistake as a wave of nausea courses through me and my head spins, aching more than it ever has in my life.

I groan, my whole body shaking suddenly with shivers as my stomach clenches.

I bend suddenly over and then lean hard to my right, pitching my head and shoulders over the side of the bed as I throw up everything in my stomach.

I cough and heave for a few minutes, my body aching and my muscles twitching as my stomach heaves again and again, ensuring that I’m completely empty. I press my eyes shut, gasping for breath, groaning a little at the taste of vomit in my mouth.

Vomit and…and coffee…

Coffee.

What…?

Suddenly, images start to come back to my mind and my eyes slowly open.

Where…where am I? What time is it? Did…

I use my shaking arms to push myself up on the bed and, looking around, I realize that I’m in Christian’s room. Relief floods through me because it’s dark in here – and I’m alone – and so I’m safe. But safe from what? I…

I’m still looking around and jump, slightly, when I look down at the white sheets and see streaks of brownish red on them. I stare in confusion for a moment and then flinch sharply, the action sending a sharp spike of pain through my head.

But I have no time for that as I look all over the bed, seeing more streaks of what can only be blood – and then look down at myself and see – see blood everywhere –

All over me, coating my arms and my neck, my shirt still damp with it.

I start to hyperventilate, pawing uselessly at the dried flecks on my arm, trying to get them off of me – to get clean –

But there’s nothing I can do – it’s stuck to me – like a stain, a stain I’ll never get off.

But what – who – am…am I bleeding?

I give a little shrieking cry, frightened, and begin to pat my body, looking for some kind of wound.

But even as I do, some functioning part of my mind tells me that I’m not hurt – not in pain – except for this pain in my head, in my stomach.

I go still, my hands reaching up towards my head, digging deep into my hair. But even as they do, I know that there’s no wound there, even though the back of my head aches.

That this…this is not my blood.

That it’s…Elio’s.

My memories start to come back to me as my sluggish mind comes back to itself. Elio, giving me coffee, and things starting to go wrong. Elio, stepping forward, grabbing me and my struggle to get away.

Elio…dropping me. And Christian there – and a flash of silver steel. And then red…everywhere red.

I gasp suddenly as I put the pieces together and realize what happened to me. That Elio slipped me something, and molested me, and that Christian came in time to stop him and…and killed him for it.

I breathe slowly, my breath hot against my hands as I press them to my mouth, staring vacantly into the darkness of the room, horrified and relieved and shocked and…horrified again.

As I stare into space, remembering everything, my breath starts to come faster. My poor aching heart begins to pound in my chest, and all I want – in the entire world – is just…just…

Just to get. The fuck. Out of here.

Out of his horrible bed, covered in blood – out of this house – out of this life –

A desperate cry breaks from me as I throw myself out of the bed, slipping in my own vomit and crying harder at that. But then I’m stumbling across the floor, my body still weak and my legs unsteady. But I don’t think about that – all I can see is the door in front of me – the freedom it represents.

I grab for the handle, twisting, pulling the door open –

But it hits on something.

A deadlock.

I twist again, pulling hard, but it doesn’t budge. And I cry out, bending down, trying to fiddle with the lock but it doesn’t give – doesn’t move. I’m still wondering what happened to it when the realization hits me.

That I didn’t lock this door.

And there’s no one in here with me.

At least – I spin suddenly, looking frantically around the room. But no…no…I’m alone.

Slowly, I turn back towards the door and realize that...I’ve been locked in here. Locked into Christian’s bedroom, all alone, unconscious, covered in his brother’s blood.

Suddenly the walls seem to close in, pressing towards me, and all I can think about is being in the cooler – locked in Bonetti’s basement in that horrible box – trapped. And some sensible part of my brain knows this is different – knows it was probably done for my safety – knows that I can move around.

But still, the horror takes hold of my limbs, and I shout, the noise turning into half a scream as I clutch frantically at my shirt and look around in a panic, desperate suddenly to get out of here. I gasp in a second breath, starting to shout again – a horrible bleat of panicked rage –

When suddenly there’s movement at the door.

My noise cuts short as my eyes move immediately to the doorknob, as it flinches twice and then briskly twists. I gasp in fear, the shout starting again as I stumble back – the door flying open –

“Iris!”

I go still, my eyes wide as I realize that it’s…it’s not anything bad. It’s just…Frankie.

He stares at me for a second, in his own little panic, and then his face falls suddenly with pity and sadness. “Oh, Iris,” he murmurs, moving slowly into the room and pressing the door quietly shut behind him as I stand three feet away from him, panting, tears running down my cheeks. “Sweetheart.”

I don’t move at all as Frankie quietly softly takes a few steps in my direction, one hand out towards me. In my chest, though, I feel my breath start to even out.

“Hey, Bambi,” he whispers, warm and gentle, coming close. “Looks like you woke up. Are you okay?”

I stare at him still, unblinking.

“Hey, who am I?” he says quietly, giving me a little smile, talking to me like a frightened animal or a little kid. “Do you know who I am?”

I stand up a little straighter at this. “F-frankie,” I whisper.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, stepping a little closer, encouraged by the fact that I don’t flinch away. “And what’s my job, Bambina?”

“Y-you’re…” I hesitate a little as he comes even closer, holding out his arms to me. “You’re…my bodyguard?”

“That’s right, babe,” he murmurs, looking sweetly into my face. “I’m here now. It’s my job to take care of you. Nothing else bad is going to happen today, okay? Right?”

I stare into his face for a moment, my poor battered mind and body working to understand. But then suddenly my lip starts to tremble, and I pitch forward into his arms, leaning hard against his chest.

“That’s all right, girl,” he murmurs, holding me quietly, closely, stroking my back softly as I sob into his shift. “You’re all right now.”

And as I lean against Frankie, sobbing my heart out…I believe him.

And quite suddenly I realize that this might be the only place that I actually feel safe in this world.

Here, with Frankie by my side.