Page 49 of Hateful Vows

THIRTY-EIGHT

DANTE

I don’t know for how long I come in and out of consciousness, awoken by hunger or the need for a fix.

At least, Gio has switched off the overhead light and my eyes don’t burn all the time. My hands touch a smooth, bouncy surface underneath me. It’s nice that he gave me a mattress. I hate that I will dirty it when I inevitably soil myself again.

Maybe I’m dreaming because someone who looks familiar is always hovering over me, long dark lashes and silky hair floating above my head, just out of reach. Two someones. The other has gnarly scars on his handsome, severe face that I want to lick.

“If he wants to lick your face, Aleksei, you should rejoice. He’s getting closer,” a voice belonging to someone I think I used to know says but it’s all blurry, my head a constant swarm of fog.

A weight settles on my side, fluffy and soft, emitting a loud noise, like a little motor.

Its body is warm and soothing. I try to touch the thing but I can’t lift my arms. I think it knows what I want because velvet material touches my fingers.

Maybe it’s a rat, but my mind has decided it’s a cat.

I don’t want to think about petting a rat. I’m already so far gone.

A nasty cold shiver spreads over my body and I shudder, begging for the drug that’ll take it all away. The first ghost of my past takes my hand and kisses the back of it. It feels nice, but my body still hurts everywhere. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll give you anything, but never that.”

Her name swims at the back of my head.

My eyelids become heavy, but before I succumb to a dreamless sleep, her name escapes my lips in a whisper. “Irina.”