Page 114 of Frozen Heart
“And an ultrasound.”
Ultrasound? For a gunshot wound?
“I’m not sure that will be nece—” I shriek as he wraps his good arm around my waist and gets to his feet. “Adriano!”
“Brahms and the rest of the team should be here soon. When I arrived, I sent him a text with a pin at this location,” he says as he walks to the door. “Wrap your legs around my waist, my sweet flower. We need to get you prenatal vitamins.”
“Okay! Now, let go of me, you idiot! You’re hurt!”
He stops at the threshold and meets my exasperated glare.
Worry. Fear. So much turmoil is still raging in those blue depths.
“Never, Little Iris,” he growls, just before claiming my mouth.
Epilogue
A few months later
The carpeted floor muffles the sound of my footsteps as I traverse the long hallway toward the dark-brown door at the very end. The dim light from the two ornate wall sconces on either side of the doorframe illuminates the undulating woodgrain and the white silk sash tied in a perfect bow around the handle.
For just a brief moment, I take the time to appreciate the soft fabric, letting my lips curve up as I pull it off the knob.Sometimes, our wrong choices lead us to the right place. After tying the blindfold over my eyes, I knock and reach for the handle, pushing the door open.
An abundant floral scent tickles my nostrils as soon as I step into the room. My instructions to Maggie have been followed—one thousand red roses, imported directly from the Netherlands, have been arranged in the finest crystal vases and left throughout this space. I’m likely in for a serious scolding later. My wife doesn’t like needless death, and that extends to cut flowers. Unfortunately for these roses, I have no problem with killing anything for her.
“Where are you, Little Iris?”
There’s no reply.
I tilt my head to the side, listening. Waiting.
“Well?” I call again.
Nothing.
Why isn’t she answering?
The silence is absolute. I can’t hear a sound beyond my own breathing. I’m immersed in darkness with my eyes covered, and the stillness around me feels crushing.
Blinded.
Deafened.
Just as my life was beforeher.
At her lack of response, the slight panic in me begins to swell, even though, in the back of my mind, I know this is just a game—that she’s playing the role of the silent guest tonight. I reach for the damn blindfold to remove it. But then, I hear it. The faintest sound of bare feet. Getting near. And my heart slows down. As if aligning its rhythm to her approaching steps.
Even without physical contact, I feel her when she comes to stand in front of me.
Finally, a light touch lands on my hand. Delicate fingers wrap around mine, urging them away from the blindfold.
“Ah, I forgot. That’s against the rules. I’m sorry.”
Her quiet chuckle reaches my straining ears.
“I’m not as good as you are at getting around when I can’t see. What if I fall flat on my face?”
I feel her palm on my cheek, her fingers tracing the line of my chin and then slipping lower. She drags her nails down my neck, over the collar of my shirt, along my sternum, then pauses a few inches under the knot of my tie. Another nearly soundless chuckle escapes her before she grabs my tie and lightly tugs on it.
