Page 18 of Hunted By Fear

So then why is she looking at me like this?

“Aeri?” Bast pulls her attention, and I feel the loss of her eyes on me like a physical blow. I’ve always been what people call an attention whore, but this…

It’s different. I don’t just want Aeri’s attention. I need it.

“Bast?” Her eyes fall closed again, pinched as if she’s in pain, as her hand comes up to press against her forehead.

“Aeri, are you alright?” Bast asks, reaching out before he drops his hand back to the bed, unsure if touching her is a good idea.

I hate this, and I know he does too, but it’s not about us right now, maybe not ever again.

“What do you remember?” Bast asks, leaning closer as if pulled to her.

This is crazy. I feel crazy, and as I rake my hand through my hair, I pull on it in an attempt to ground myself. It does nothing as I look at Aeri in the bed, knowing she’s at Rome’s mercy and we’re helpless to do anything about it.

I’ve never been helpless in my life.

Not even when we fell from Heaven, because we figured it out together, and I’m happier for it now.

Aeri isn’t awake long before I see the exhaustion written on her face.

She remembers seeing me at the house and Kai at the shop, but other than that, it’s a lot of Rome. It's all pieces, and she doesn’t know what's real or not, but she remembers us, and that’s something. She’s anxious; I can hear it in the way her heart rate continues to beat rapidly, but worse, she’s in pain. Her hand has yet to leave her head, and the little moans and groans aren't the feel-good kind.

“Go to sleep; we’ll be here when you get up. We’ll figure this out, Darling,” I tell her, reaching out and grasping her hand.She flinches from the contact, and I almost pull away, but she doesn’t, and I don’t have the willpower to either.

Aeri looks at me and then Bast before she moves to lie back on the bed, our hands still clasped together, and I swear she’s out before her head even hits the pillow.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Bast says, his voice low and gruff, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him so upset.

“As much as I agree he deserves it, we both know you can’t.”

“Watch me.”

My head feels as though someone took a bat to it, like any moment it might split open, and my brain will fall onto the bed beside me. Honestly, that might help relieve some of the pressure.

They keep telling me to relax and try to get some sleep, but the fact that I have no idea who they are or where I am isn’t something that exactly puts me at ease.

“Here, drink this; it might help.” The guy to my left says, and I crack my eye open to find him offering me a glass of what appears to be water.

It’s only now that I realize how dry my throat is.

How long have I been asleep?

“A few days.” The guy on my right says, making me wonder if I asked aloud.

There’s no way, not with the way my throat is feeling. Even if I’d tried, I’m almost positive nothing would have come out.

“It’s written all over your face,” he says as if that explains everything. It doesn’t, not even a little bit, because if he knowsme well enough to be able to read a question on my face alone, then he should seem at least mildly familiar.

Right?

Neither of them does, well, except for the fact that I’m pretty sure the guy on my left was the one who broke into my house. Which does nothing to help my current state of panic.

“Do I know you?” I force the question out even though my throat feels like someone rubbed it raw with sandpaper. The one guy still holds out the glass of water, but no matter how good it sounds, I can’t bring myself to take it.

Who knows what he did to it?

I watch as his face falls, and I’m not sure if it’s because of me or something else, but some part of me hopes I'm not to blame. Even with his horns and weird glowing pink eyes, he’s kinda cute.