Page 21 of Shattered King

Fiorella

I puke so hard I’m pretty sure a rib breaks.

“Fuuuuck,” I say, leaning back against the wall and gasping for breath. Sweat prickles down my forehead and my back. Every morning it’s like this: I wake up, feel fine for a while, but inevitably end up right here roaring like a dinosaur as I spew my guts out. And then I feel better.

Like magic. But black, disgusting magic.

It’s been five days since Luca set up the tent.

Five days of working on the Spider during the day, trying not to roll over and fuck his brains out at night, and vomiting my brains out by sunrise.

I’m like a zombie, staggering from one thing to the next, all the while doing my best to shut out the screaming warning klaxons in my skull.

“At a certain point, I can’t keep ignoring this,” I say to my own reflection. I look like baked dog shit. “Even if I am the queen of ignoring my problems.”

Almost as if my hand isn’t connected to my body anymore, I pick up my phone and hit Elisa’s number. My sister answers on the second ring. “It’s early, you know,” she says with a yawn. “I was having the best dream. I was running a Dunkin’ Donuts and could eat as many?—”

“I threw up,” I say, cutting her off, because I think hearing her fantasy of gorging herself on shitty doughnuts will only make me ralph again.

“Oh, no, are you sick? I can come over right now.” I hear the sound of her rustling and getting out of bed. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

“No, no, I mean, yes, please come over, but you have to make a stop first.” I suck in a deep breath and slowly blow it out.

Fuck, I can’t ignore this. I can’t keep ignoring all the stinking rotten signs.

“I’ve been throwing up every single morning for a week.

And my period’s late. Like, really, really late. ”

A long silence.

I hear her breathing though, fast and short.

“Oh,” she says. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay. We can handle this. I can, uh, I’m not, uhhh?—”

I rub my face with one hand. Poor Elisa isn’t good in a crisis. I love her to death, but she’s a deer. She freezes when there’s a predator. While I’m more like a viper. My first instinct is to kill.

“Stop off at Rite Aid and get some pregnancy tests. Pick up a few different brands. Then come straight here and don’t tell anyone what you have, okay?”

“I can do that. Get pregnancy tests. Understood.” I can practically see her chewing at her little fingernail the way she does when she’s nervous. “Did you tell him yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Does he know? About the puking?”

“He leaves early every day.” Lucky freaking me at least. “Just come over, okay? I want to get this over with.”

“See you soon.” But she doesn’t hang up. I stay on the phone too, desperate for her to say something that’ll make this alright. Because it’s not. It’s really not. “I love you, Fio.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“Bye.”

The phone goes dead.

I don’t feel better.

Three little white sticks all in a neat line. I don’t know why they have that same curvy design. Like whoever made them was going for pretty and feminine. When really, it’s just piss-covered plastic.

Three little sticks. They’re really nothing. I could stomp on them and crush them into little bits.

Three little sticks. They all stare back at me, screaming the same thing.

“You haven’t said anything for like two straight minutes,” Elisa says, pacing back and forth behind me. “I’m trying to give you space to process, but you know me. I can’t shut up when stuff like this happens.”

“I know,” I mutter.

“It’s like my inner thinking voice is totally gone and I’m just like, blah blah blah, you know?

Spilling it all out. God, Fio, I didn’t even know you two were, you know, like, having sex.

But that’s fine! He’s your husband and it’s your business.

He’s also really, really hot. I don’t blame you one bit. I’d probably bang him too?—”

“Elisa.” I look back at her. “Please.”

“Right.” She clamps both hands over her mouth.

I turn back to the counter.

Three little sticks. Each like a chain slithering around my wrists and my ankles.

Each like a man ready to throw me into a hole.

Each like the closing door of a panic room.

Each like thirst clawing at my dry throat, like days spent jammed into a closet with my sister reeking like urine and sweat, each like my car getting crushed to scrap metal.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re pregnant,” Elisa blurts out finally.

Only thirty seconds this time.

I sweep the positive tests into a plastic bag and shove them into a drawer. I slam the bathroom door shut, lock it, and grab my sister by the shoulders. She stares into my face, looking afraid.

“You can’t tell anyone ,” I say seriously.

She nods, blinking. “Right. Okay.”

“I mean it, Elisa. If Luca finds out, he won’t let me go. He’ll hunt me down forever. This is his baby, and he’s not the kind of man that’ll let his child disappear. You can’t tell anyone .”

Her eyes go wide. “Fio, seriously?”

“Please, just?—”

She wriggles out of my grip and backs away. “You can’t still be thinking about running away.”

I spread my hands. Panic makes them tremble. “We’ll raise the baby together. It’ll be hard at first, but?—”

“Fio, come on, think. You want to deprive your own child of their family? They’ll never meet Raf or any of the cousins.”

“The cousins are all murderous fucking assholes. Raf’s only slightly better.”

“What about Luca? What about that baby’s father?”

An ugly sob rips from my chest. I collapse down onto the edge of the tub and wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold my guts inside. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much, but ever since Luca came into my life, it’s like I’m making up for lost time.

“You don’t understand,” I say, barely able to speak. She sinks down next to me and rubs my back. “I can’t stay trapped here forever. You know what it was like. You were there . I just can’t.”

“You’re not trapped,” she says softly, hugging me tight against her. “We’re not in that room anymore, Fio. We haven’t been for a really long time.”

I can’t tell her that I never left it. Maybe she found ways to cope and moved on, but I’ve been stuck.

I’ve been trapped. And ever since, all I’ve ever dreamed about is freedom.

Long stretches of open highway. A little shitty house with lots of land all over.

Maybe even a van parked at some remote campsite.

Nothing but quiet and birds and four wheels fully gassed up and ready to drive.

“I can’t stay,” I tell her as I finally begin to calm down. “I just can’t.”

“But what if you have to?”

“No, no, this doesn’t change anything.” I wipe my face with both hands and stand up.

Now I’m the one pacing. “It’s more complicated, but I can deal with it.

I’ll just take more money. That’ll solve things, right?

More money? We’ll go further away, maybe somewhere in Southeast Asia, somewhere deep in the jungle away from people?—”

“Fio, stop it. You’d rather raise your kid in with monkeys and poison frogs than here?”

I glare at her. “Damn straight.”

“You’re wrong,” she says with more venom than I thought she had in her. I stare, surprised at her sudden anger. She gets to her feet, shaking her head. “I won’t be a part of this.”

“Elisa—”

“I’ll keep your secret because I love you and I think you’ll do the right thing in the end, but I’m not going to enable this crazy fantasy anymore. You’re married, Fio. You’re pregnant. This is your place. Maybe you don’t stay with Luca forever, but your family is here. Your family loves you.”

“My family forgot about me ,” I say, nearly screaming it at her. “They forgot about both of us! For five days!”

Elisa’s face twitches. “I remember.”

“You seriously want to talk about family? They shoved us into a fucking closet for five fucking days and forgot we were there. We were peeing into a jug. We ran out of water. If they hadn’t finally opened the door, we would’ve died in there!”

My heart’s racing and my fingers are tingling. My tongue feels numb at the very tip. Elisa hugs herself and turns her back on me, her shoulder shaking lightly, and I realize she’s crying.

And then I understand. I just screamed our deepest, blackest trauma right into her face. She’s been hurting over it just like me, except she’s been better about keeping herself together.

Now I’m unraveling and I’m such a selfish bitch that I’m trying to take her with me.

“I’m sorry,” I say, going over to her.

She flinches when I touch her. “It’s fine,” she says, wiping her face. “It’s fine, okay? I know it happened. I think about it all the time too. I dream about it.”

“I know.” I pull her against me. She leans her head into my shoulder for a moment but moves away. “I just can’t let myself get trapped.”

“You’re not.” She shakes her head, looking back at me from the door. “You just don’t see it yet.”

“Elisa—”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay? I need a little time to cool off. That was… a lot.”

My shoulders slump, but I nod. “Yeah. I get it.”

“I love you. Always will. No matter what.”

“You too.”

She leaves and I’m alone in the bathroom with the little white sticks hidden in a drawer, feeling heavy and claustrophobic and afraid.