Page 88 of His Kidnapped Queen
“Do it,” I tell her, my voice trembling but my gaze steady.
“Without anesthesia? How?—”
I squeeze her hand again, almost painfully. “I can take it. Just do it.”
She draws in a shaking breath and holds out her hands. Steady as a rock.
“It doesn’t have to be pretty it just has to stop bleeding,” Diego tells her, pushing fishing wire through a huge needle. The idea of that needle going through my flesh makes me nauseous, so I look away.
Diego groans and puts the belt back between my teeth, splashing more bourbon over the open wound, making me grunt in pain.
Sophia straddles my hips, looking down at me with watery blue eyes.
“Don’t cry,” I say, but it’s muffled by the belt so I just caress her face with one hand, nodding at her.
She shakes her head in response, letting out a long sob.
“You have to do it because I have to hold him down,” Diego urges, and she cries out one more time before she plunges the needle into my flesh.
Diego pushes me down, holding me by my shoulders, but I can’t help writhing as she keeps going. It seems like hours, and I’m in and out, the edges of my vision fuzzing as she keeps stitching.
“You’re okay,” she breathes, cupping my face after it’s done. When my eyes come back into focus all I see is the blue of her irises.
“I’m okay,” I say, shaky, voice still muffled by the belt. Diego removes it, breathing hard himself. It’s the only indication that he felt any type of worry during the event.
“You did a good job,” Diego mutters to Sophia. She climbs off me and Diego bandages the wound, using duct tape to seal the edges. “This will get you by until Charlie can see you.”
“Thank you,” I say to her, and I mean it with everything in me.
“You’re okay,” she says again, like it’s the only thing she can say, like they’re the only words she knows.
“I’m okay,” I repeat, looking at her, but my eyes are drifting shut. I’m fading out of consciousness. If she’s the last thing I ever see, I’ll be grateful.
25
SOPHIA
He told me he looked for me in every woman after me. What does that mean? Was it just a fever dream, something he said when he thought he was dying?
It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t. I can’t let it mean anything, because I’m already on the verge of falling in love with this man. This man who kidnapped me. Who gave me Rosa.
I’m conflicted, and him being injured isn’t helping.
“He’s out,” Diego says, relief in his voice.
“Should we wake him? He?—”
Diego shakes his head. “No. Let him rest. He’s been through a lot. I’ll keep watch.”
He walks out of the door and the sound of the deadbolt clicking reminds me that Diego still doesn’t trust me. That Luca doesn’t, either, despite what he said.
I bite my lip, looking down at Luca. I start to get up from sitting on the edge of the bed and Luca grabs my wrist, pulling me back down.
“Stay,” he mumbles, barely coherent.
I can’t say no to him, not like this, not when I just stitched him up with a belt between his teeth. I climb into bed next to him, curling up close.
He puts an arm around me, pressing his lips to my temple, and fresh tears stream down my face.
