“I can’t.”
“Then why did you do that?”
“Because you needed it.”
His eyes soften, and I know he can’t forgive me if his friend dies, but he respects me for what I just did. For putting him above my own needs.
“Those men really hurt you, didn’t they?”
I can’t answer. “I’ll go get you more coffee,” I say, needing a minute to myself after what happened.
I return a few minutes later with more coffee for both of us. Even though I prefer iced, I drink the warm liquid trying to calm myself as I sit on the floor. Langston finally sits as well. Staring at me as often as he stares at the door that still hasn’t opened.
“You should get a blanket. Warm yourself up. You were like ice to my touch.”
I shake my head feeling the panic take hold of me. “I can’t.”
He frowns. “Are you too cold to move?”
“No, the blanket just won’t help. It’s a survival mechanism my body learned when I was taken. To shut down so I can’t feel as much. My skin turns cold, my heart barely beats, so my organs need less oxygen to survive.”
“I’ll get you a blanket.”
“No, the blanket won’t help. The panic attack is too great. I won’t be able to tolerate the touch right now.”
“But you let Enzo touch you?”
I feel the water in my eyes. “Yes.”
“Why?”
I chuckle gently. “I have no idea. I should hate him as much as he hates me.”
Langston nods.
And then we are silent. We wait for the door to open. But it never does. With each minute that passes, I know the outcome—Zeke’s dead.
Finally, the door opens and the doctor stands in the doorway, covered in more blood than I knew was in a human body.
He’s dead.
There is no way he survived this.
And with his death, I know I sealed my fate. Enzo will kill me for killing his friend. I’ve seen what he does to men who cross him. He will never forgive me for this.
Langston shoots up, but I remain seated. The fall will hurt less when I collapse from the pain if I’m already sitting.
“Did he?” Langston asks.
“Zeke’s alive—for now.”
He’s alive.
12
Enzo
He’s alive.