The Wishing Game

Chapter 2

TWO

One week ago

M y palms are clammy, my breathing accelerating with each passing second. The elevator doors open again and Nikki takes my hand, leading me out.

We walk for a couple of minutes before we suddenly stop.

Nikki reaches behind my back to untie my blindfold. I blink a couple of times as I look around. We're in the garage, but I don't know what I'm supposed to look for. I don't drive, and though Nikki has a license, he doesn't drive either.

"I don't get—" I stop as it dawns on me what he's pointing toward.

It's an RV, a really big one by the sight of it. It's almost the size of a truck.

"Is that..." I clear my throat, barely able to form any coherent thoughts. "Is that ours?"

"Remember what you told me a year ago when we moved to New York and you saw a motorhome for the first time?"

I nod absentmindedly. How could I not remember that?

"You said how freeing it would be to live in one of those, not tied to any place but at the same time belonging to all? You said you'd love to travel around and see all the places you'd only seen in movies or read about in books. And when you realized that you might never be able to do that because of my condition, you apologized and said it was just wishful thinking. That it didn't matter where we lived as long as we are together."

"And you remembered." I swallow hard as my heart rate picks up.

"Of course I remember. It was more than wishful thinking, Luce. I could tell how much you wanted it, but you settled for less because of me. That was when I realized I couldn't go on like this. I couldn't..." he trails off, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in discomfort. "You should never settle for less, sweetheart."

I watch the warring emotions on his face and realize how much thought he put into this. Now it makes sense why he'd suddenly decided to switch therapists and why he'd gone through a few before finding a good fit. He was doing it all for me.

Tears of happiness slide down my cheeks as I look into his dark eyes. The magnitude of his love for me floors me, and not for the first time, I thank the fates for bringing this man into my life.

I first met Nikki when I was sixteen. I was living in a remote area of Mexico that was under the control of Sergio Villanueva—a self-proclaimed god who dabbled in various illegal avenues. I'd been given to him as tribute when I was thirteen, and because I rebelled against what that entailed, I was sent to waste away working in tunnels of his temple—a grand, ostentatious display of Sergio's wealth and his divine providence. It was in the darkness of that tunnel that I met Nikki, the only flicker of light in my hopeless life.

I knew right away that he didn't belong there, and I did my best to help him escape, never thinking he would actually come back for me. Yet he did. A little over two years later, he showed up for me—to save me . And the only reason why he'd taken so long had been because he'd been in an accident that had put him in a coma for two years.

Nikki, or by his full name Nicholas Archibald, had been born to unimaginable riches. His family owned almost half the United States, and he was the heir of a dynasty. But with so much power comes so much danger. He survived seeing his parents brutally murdered in front of him at the age of ten, five successful kidnappings, and over sixteen attempts on his life, including one that resulted in brain damage that put him into a coma and a shooting gone wrong that gave him a permanent limp for which he requires a cane to this day. But despite still being alive, some scars can never heal.

A few years back, he was formally diagnosed with PTSD, social anxiety, and agoraphobia. And while the meds he was on did their job for a while, after he got shot in the knee during our honeymoon, his anxiety skyrocketed to the extent that he barely left our home anymore.

We lived in Texas for a while, in a home with security features specifically designed for his paranoid mind. But after I reconnected with an old friend, he made the effort to move with me to New York so I could be near her. Still, it hasn't been easy on him, and although we go out once every couple of months or so, it usually causes him great distress. So to hear that he’s made such strides in his mental health journey makes me overflow with hope. I can't stop myself from crying, tears of joy spilling down my cheeks.

"You're so brave, Nikki." I smile as I take a step forward.

Molding my palm to his cheek, I stroke him lightly, all the while not taking my gaze off his. He swallows hard, and in his eyes, I see mirrored all the pain and struggles he's had to overcome to get to this point.

"You deserve nothing less," he replies in a low voice. Clearing his throat, he grabs my hand, laying a sweet kiss on the inside of my wrist before he invites me to check out the inside of the RV.

My cheeks heat as I realize I've already forgotten about the RV.

"I've already loaded it up with all necessities, but I wanted to wait for you to pick out some clothes and items for the road."

"Wait? The road? When are we leaving?"

"I didn't buy this to sit in the garage." He laughs. "We leave the moment you're ready. I have a few locations picked out upstate so we can slowly get used to it, but after that, you can decide our itinerary."

I stare at him, flabbergasted. Although I was sure I'd love his present, I never imagined it to be something like this.

"We leave tomorrow," I declare suddenly.

He doesn't object, his lips merely pulling up in a knowing smile.

"The fridge is already stocked," he whispers in my ear.

Oh, the rogue! He knew I'd want to leave as soon as possible.

Nikki steps in front of the RV door and places his thumb on the exterior pad. The door slides open just as a staircase unfolds in front of us.

Shaking my head at him, I go up the steps until we're both inside the RV. Nikki closes the door behind us and waits tensely for me to react to what I'm seeing.

"Nikki..." I murmur in awe.

I take a step forward, simply marveling at the inside. It's about forty feet long.

"You had this custom-made," I state. The entire RV is decorated in a mix of pastels, lilac being the predominant one—and also my favorite color.

"Of course," he replies, almost offended I'd think otherwise.

As we step inside, there's the driver's seat in black leather and next to it another purple seat, which I assume is for me. My lips tug up at the level of detail of the RV, but this is just the beginning.

Turning, I notice a small sitting area with a leather love seat in a deep purple color and a black table in front of it. Right next to it is a full-sized kitchen.

"This was one of the things I wouldn't compromise on. I know how much you love to cook, so I told them to add all your favorite appliances."

The counters and the furniture are a light lilac color, while the appliances are a deep violet. To say I'm impressed would be an understatement.

Curious, I go over to the fridge and open it to find it fully stocked with fruits, vegetables, yogurt, and a variety of meats.

"You really went all out," I praise him.

He merely smiles, showing me all the compartments the kitchen has. Even though the space is limited, it has a lot of storage, all cleverly designed to blend in with the background.

As we walk further into the RV, there is a sliding door that leads to a narrow path. On one side, there's a bathroom, fully equipped with a sizable shower and toilet, while on the other side, there's a double study space. One desk is black while the other is a pastel mauve, each with matching chairs. There's also an iMac on each desk—of course, mine is the purple one.

"And here's the pièce de résistance." He points toward the door at the end of the hallway.

I follow him as he slides the door open to reveal our bedroom.

A king-sized bed is in the middle of the room and a wardrobe right behind it. On each side of the bed, there are huge windows that light up the entire room.

"These are tinted and bulletproof," Nikki comments as he knocks on one window, pride evident in his voice. "No one on the outside can see us."

Giving him a wide grin, I throw myself on the bed to test the mattress. A giggle escapes me when it bounces as Nikki joins me. He tackles me, rolling with me as he showers me with kisses. I wrap my arms around him, out of breath but incredibly full of happiness.

"Scratch that. I can go up and pack a few things, and we can leave at dawn. What do you think?"

"You just have to say the word, Luce." He smiles and lays a kiss on my nose.

It doesn't take us long to pack our stuff. I only grab a few of my favorite clothes, my Kindle, a few makeup items, and a couple of perfumes. I noticed that the bathroom was fully stocked with soap, shampoo, and conditioner. At this point, what had Nikki not thought of? I'm still in awe at his surprise, and I don't think I would have ever guessed it—not in a million years.

How could I, when I've known about his struggles for years, and at one point, instead of getting better, he'd only gotten worse? Yet because I loved him so much, I didn't care. I would have been satisfied with being with him in our home—without ever going out if that was what he needed.

* * *

I t's almost dawn when we both take the elevator down to the garage, each carrying a bag and nothing more.

"This feels like the start of an adventure, Nikki. I can't wait." I squeal when the elevator stops and run out toward the RV.

Nikki opens the door, making sure to add my fingerprint to the system before we climb in. It takes us less than half an hour to organize our stuff, and once we're done, Nikki takes his place behind the wheel and I sit next to him on my purple seat.

"You're sure you're good with driving this?"

"I took some extra lessons," he assures me with a wink.

My cheeks redden, and I put on my seat belt as he leads the car out of the garage and onto the freeway.

The entire RV is inundated with natural sunlight, and that only increases my good mood as I put on a cheery song on the radio.

Nikki is focused on the road, but I'm quick to realize I shouldn't have worried at all. He's a very smooth driver, making it seem almost effortless.

"I want to get my license, too," I tell him.

"Anytime, sweetheart. I can teach you the basics first and then we'll look into booking you an exam."

I nod vigorously.

"God, Nikki. I can't tell you how excited I am for this. It's the best surprise ever, and it's not even my birthday yet!" I gush, my eyes sparkling with excitement as I glance at him.

"Oh, just you wait for it. I have another little surprise for you. Later," he says with a languid grin.

My brows shoot up in curiosity, and I barely stop myself from badgering him about it since I know he needs to keep his attention on the road.

Since this is my first road trip— ever —I can't help but be in utter awe of my surroundings. Especially as we exit the city and there's nature everywhere. Compared to the area I grew up in Mexico, this is so green and lush and so inviting. I'm close to sticking my face to the window as I try to take in the scenery. Nikki chuckles at my expense, but I can tell he's equally intrigued by what he's seeing. If to me this feels absolutely freeing, then I can't imagine what it must be like for him.

"How are you feeling?" I ask him a while later when we decide to stop for the night.

We drove for about six hours upstate, and it's already taken a toll on Nikki since he's not used to driving for such long periods of time.

"Tired but otherwise good," he says as he pops a pill in his mouth before chasing it with water.

I make us a quick dinner, and Nikki helps me set the table for us to eat. Since I don't want to waste any of these precious moments, I decide to go with an easy stir-fry with vegetables and chicken.

"How's your anxiety?" I ask as I take a bite.

"Just a little hum. I'm fine, Luce. You don't need to worry about me." He gives me a tight smile.

I purse my lips.

"This is our first real outing. Of course I'll worry."

He waves me off, but I'm not deterred.

We chat casually as we eat, but my eyes are on him, and I'll be watching him like a hawk for any sign that he might be feeling off—and if he does, then we return home immediately. I don't want him to suffer in silence just to please me.

After we load the dishes into the dishwasher and set the timer, Nikki pours both of us a glass of red wine.

"Your family won't like it," I note quietly as I take a sip of wine.

"I know." He sighs. "I hope to avoid them finding out for as long as possible. But considering they have spies everywhere..."

"There should be something we can do."

"What? I've thought of everything over the years, Luce, but I don't have any proof. Not for the accident, not for the shooting, not for any of the other attempts on my life."

"Shouldn't the fact that they have the most to win if you die count?"

"Not anymore." He smiles.

I tilt my head, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"You're the sole beneficiary of my fortune. I changed my will as soon as we got married. I would have changed it sooner, but because of my head injury, I had to pass some tests before they declared me mentally fit to make any such decisions."

I blink in surprise.

"You..."

"Of course, a part will go to Malia, too," he mentions our goddaughter with a smile.

"That's... I don't know what to say, Nikki."

"You don't have to say anything. All my life I've been hunted down for this cursed money. They've taken almost everything from me, Luce. Almost everything." He takes a deep breath. "But I won't let them take it all."

Although he'd been born to generational wealth, his parents had more than increased the family fortune, becoming one of the richest couples in the world before their gruesome deaths. From the beginning, Nikki had suspected that it had been his kin who'd done it in an attempt to gain control over his parents' company and fortune. He has one aunt, two uncles, and a slew of cousins, all of whom are rich in their own right. But one thing I've learned, regardless of whether you're from Mexico or the U.S., even if you have money, you'll always want more of it. And how could anyone turn their noses up at the billions of dollars under Nikki's name?

Unfortunately, Nikki has never been able to enjoy his fortune—not with how bad his mental health had become as a result of other people's greed.

"Enough of this morbid talk." I wave my hand.

"Don't worry about it. I have a security team on standby if anything happens. They're always behind us, but they'll keep a distance so they don't interfere with us."

I raise a brow at him. Now, he hadn't mentioned that before. But I should have realized that someone who's come to call paranoia his closest friend could never go somewhere without a full security detail.

"Well, I guess it's all right as long as we don't notice them," I grumble.

He gives me a wide grin and, coming to my side, he pulls me into his arms, leading me to the bedroom.

After throwing me on the bed, he takes a step back and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

I bite my lip as I watch him toss it aside, my eyes feasting on his naked chest. Like me, he bears the scars of his past. There are a myriad of scars all over the surface of his chest, some deeper and gnarlier than others.

Raising my leg, I trail my foot down his torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles. Despite his agoraphobia, Nikki has always taken care of his physique, installing a gym in our home and using it on a daily basis. In his own words, it helped him to clear his head when his anxiety was at its worst.

"I have one more surprise for you," he murmurs suggestively, catching my leg and kissing the arch of my foot.

"Is that so?" I challenge, grabbing the hem of my shirt and taking it off before doing the same with my bra and underwear.

His eyes darken, his pupils expanding as he takes in my naked body. His gaze moves from my face to my chest where most of my marks are clustered together, going all the way down to my thighs. There are different shapes littering my flesh, a haunting black against my lighter skin. I'm still not sure what they are, and no doctor has been able to tell us for sure if it's a tattoo, or if someone had branded my skin. I only know what they represent—years of servitude that almost erased who I was. Because of that, I've always been ashamed of them.

"You're beautiful, Luce," Nikki whispers reverently. "All of you is beautiful."

His intense scrutiny makes me blush, and I look away.

"Don't," he rasps. "Don't take those beautiful eyes off me."

A tremulous smile tugs at my lips as I slowly meet his gaze. After all this time, I still get self-conscious about the marks on my skin. I don't like them. Why should anyone else like them?

He kisses his way up my leg. When he reaches my marks, he pays special attention to them, kissing each one in turn, lingering on the larger ones. He moves slowly, trailing his tongue up my chest until his mouth is on mine. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I pull him closer as I give myself to his embrace. He's slow but thorough, worshipping my body with his and bringing me to the brink, time and time again.

My skin is slick with perspiration as he spoons me from behind, his body still joined with mine. He trails light kisses over my neck, small touches that ignite me all over again.

"I think you'll like this last surprise even more," he murmurs in my ear as he trails his fingers down the valley of my breasts.

"I don't think anything can top today, Nikki." I smile languidly.

"Oh, I'll let you be the judge of that." He smiles as he pulls himself from me. I whimper at the sudden loss of his warmth, my arms still reaching for him. Going to the storage area, he pulls open one of the drawers and takes out a small box.

"What's that?" I ask as I pull myself into a sitting position. My skin is covered in goosebumps, and I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to preserve heat.

He places the box on the bed, then opens it and lays the contents in the open.

I shuffle closer to get a better look, but I still don't know what it is.

"It's a tattoo kit," he explains.

"Tattoo kit?" I repeat, confused. "Why would you need a tattoo kit?"

"Because you're going to use it on me."

Now I'm even more confused.

"I don't follow," I frown.

"I know you're self-conscious about your marks, Luce. This way, we'll both have etchings on our skin."

I stare at him, flabbergasted. He... he wants me to tattoo him so I won't be the only one with marks on my skin?

"Nikki... I..."

I don't know what to say. I simply stare at him, my mouth half-open as I try to come to terms with the enormity of what he just proposed.

"I'm guessing that means this tops the other surprises?" he asks playfully.

"You'll let me ink your skin? Just like that?"

He nods solemnly.

"Just like that, Luce. Anything you want. I'll be your canvas." He winks at me.

He sets about assembling the tattoo gun, and it soon becomes clear that this isn't his first time handling it—he'd studied it before.

My heart beats erratically in my chest as I imagine him at night, poring over the instruction manual to figure out how to install it—all so he could surprise me.

How many nights has he spent just like this? Focusing on my happiness rather than his?

His regard touches me in a way nothing else ever has, and my entire being becomes so full of love for him that I can't stop myself from reaching out, framing his face between my hands and kissing him deeply. In that one kiss, I channel all the emotion that's surging through my veins and that threatens to overwhelm me—all this love that's infiltrated every cell of my body.

"I love you, too, Luce," he whispers, almost as if he can read my mind.

My lips tug up. "Okay, I'll do it."

He smiles at me, and when he's done assembling the kit, he sanitizes the area and places some paper towels on the bed. He then demonstrates briefly how to use it before lying on his back and pointing to his naked chest.

"My chest is your canvas. Do whatever you like with it."

"Whatever?" I raise my brows. "You know I'm not very good at drawing."

"But you have superb penmanship. So write me something. Write me a love letter."

My mouth parts in wonder at the trust I see reflected in his gaze. Knowing I can't fail him, I grab the tattoo pen, getting used to the feel of it in my hand.

Without dwelling too much on it, I bring the tip to his skin. The machine vibrates slightly in my hand, releasing a humming sound as the tip penetrates his skin. I take my time, making sure each stroke is perfect.

"Does it hurt?" I suddenly ask when I feel him wince.

"No, keep going," he assures me.

I take a deep breath as I concentrate on my design, letting the letters curl in a beautiful ornament. I'm so focused on what I'm doing that I lose track of time.

Line after line, stroke after stroke, I only know that I can't afford to make even one small error. And after what seems like an eternity, I lean back, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

"I think I'm done." I smile as I regard my masterpiece.

His skin is red all around the new tattoo, and I grab the soothing gel, gently applying it to the sensitive area.

Nikki releases a big breath, and despite his assurances, I'm convinced it wasn't all that comfortable for him.

"So what did you write?"

"Go see for yourself." I point to the bathroom.

He gets up and, grabbing his cane, goes straight for the big mirror in the bathroom.

"Fucking hell," he mutters in awe.

At the top of his collarbone, I wrote:

Lucero's Lover

Underneath it, I put the first lines of my favorite poem by Pablo Neruda:

Cuántas veces, amor, te amé sin verte y tal vez sin recuerdo, sin reconocer tu mirada, sin mirarte.

"You like it?" I ask sheepishly as I lay my head on his back.

"I love it, Luce. This is... It's absolutely perfect." He swallows hard, his throat clogging with emotion.

I smile as I nuzzle my cheek against his skin.

"How many times, my love, I loved you without seeing and maybe without memory, without recognizing your gaze, without even looking," I whisper the words in English.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, I notice the moisture clinging to his lashes and the heartfelt I love you that he softly mouths to me.

* * *

W e start our morning with a hearty breakfast. Nikki takes his medicine while I tend to his tattoo, applying more cream and some foil on top of it so it won't get irritated by his clothes. Once that's done, we're back on the road.

"Tonight, I want you to tattoo something on me too," I tell him once we're back on the highway.

He looks at me in surprise.

"I know there isn't much space, but I'd love to have your words on me, too."

"Of course," he readily agrees, something akin to a blush creeping on his cheeks. "I'd be honored."

With that settled, I bring out the map on one of the screens, thinking about where we could go, feeling a little intimidated by all these options. Like that English saying, the world is our oyster, and I aim to truly take advantage of it.

"What if we went to Niagara Falls?" I suddenly say. "It's not too far from here."

"That's a good idea. If we go west, it's less than a couple of hours."

"Oh my God, Nikki. I can't wait to see it. I've only seen it in movies, and I'm so curious if it's as huge as it seems on the screen."

"It is." He smiles fondly. "I went there once with my parents, and it was breathtaking."

"You rarely talk about them."

"It's hard to talk about them and not miss them." He sighs. "They were the best parents anyone could have asked for. Even though they were running a billion-dollar enterprise, they always made time for me."

"I'm happy to hear that. I wish I had that too, but I don't even know who my father is." I give a bitter laugh.

My mother had only told me he was a gringo and that he'd left after I was conceived, never to be heard from again.

"Do you want to know who he is?" Nikki suddenly asks. "I'm sure if we hire the right people, we might be able to find out."

"No." I shake my head. "That part of my past is better left alone."

I don't tell him, however, that I'm pretty sure he'd been one of my mother's clients. After all, I'd never told anyone that she used to sell her body for money, and that was how she managed to bring me up until I was thirteen, when she couldn't afford to feed two mouths anymore and decided to sell me to Sergio.

I'm not sure why I haven't shared much of my past life with Nikki when I've shared everything else with him. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a little ashamed of where I came from and how different our upbringings were. Or maybe, it's just my own failing and the fact that I don't think I ever forgave my mother for selling me.

And to divert his attention from this topic, I play some music, inviting him to sing along with me.

He shakes his head at me initially, but eventually, he relents and joins me in an impromptu karaoke session. Quite fittingly, we're singing Bon Jovi's "It's My Life", and for the first time, there's actual meaning behind the words.

We're finally taking charge of our lives.

"I thought you said our security detail is keeping a distance," I say suddenly as I notice a car trailing behind us.

"They are." He frowns, pulling up the rear camera on the screen. "That's not our security detail."

"They've been following us for a while," I add, worry gnawing at me.

"Let's see." Nikki mutters a few curses under his breath, and at the first opportunity, he turns the RV around. The other car, however, breezes right past us.

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Have we become a little too paranoid?" I attempt to make light of the situation.

Nikki doesn't find it funny, though. Turning the car around so we're back en route, he rummages through one of the compartments and takes out his pills. Instinctively, I give him a water bottle. He swallows the pill and takes a sip of water.

"Is it bad?" I ask in a soft voice. I can see the car rattled him. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

He's tense, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips the steering wheel tightly.

"I'll be fine," he bites out, but his demeanor tells me he's not fine.

"Maybe we should pull over," I suggest.

He shakes his head.

"I said I'm fine, Luce," he repeats, his breathing growing more labored.

God, I really shouldn't have said anything. Just the mention that someone might be following us triggered something in him—and given his past, I don't blame him.

"You can admit if you're not fine, Nikki. I don't care if we have to cut this short..."

"Luce." He takes a deep breath, turning toward me. His eyes are wholly black, his intense gaze swallowing me up. "I'm fine ," he grits out. Sweat beads on his forehead, his hands trembling slightly.

He's not fine.

"I don't feel good. We should stop," I say weakly. Anything to get him to stop and get through the attack he's having. He thinks I don't recognize the signs? We've been together long enough for me to see when he's on the verge of breaking down.

"I said I'm fucking fine," he yells, banging his fist against the wheel.

My eyes widen at his outburst and I instinctively shrink back.

"No, Luce. I didn't mean it like that," he immediately says, raking a hand through his hair and giving me an apologetic look. "Please." He reaches out for me.

I blink a couple of times, breathing in and out.

"You scared me," I whisper.

"I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry." He closes his eyes with a deep sigh. When he opens them again, there's so much pain in them, I feel it penetrating my heart.

I reach out and take his hand. "I—" My words get stuck in my throat as Nikki suddenly veers to the side. Turning, my eyes widen when I see a truck heading straight for us.

"Hold on!" he shouts at me.

But by that time, it's too late. Instead of letting us to the side, the truck veers at the same time as we do. No matter how much Nikki pulls on the wheel, the collision is imminent.

Seconds turn into an eternity as the front of the truck hits the middle of our RV, sending us spinning down the road. I try to hold on to something, but the force is so strong I'm thrust forward out of my seat.

My eyelids are heavy as I release a harsh breath. My chest feels constricted, and as I try to move around, I realize everything hurts.

A low moan of pain escapes past my lips as I finally open my eyes to see the blue sky. What...

My head is spinning, my sight becoming blurry. For a moment, I'm so disoriented, I don't know what happened or how I came to be like this. It's only when I hear another pained sound that the events finally come to me.

Accident. We were in an accident...

Nikki!

I release a pained whimper as I roll around, scanning my surroundings. The RV is a distance away, parts of it already obliterated from the impact, others catching fire. There's debris everywhere on the ground.

And Nikki... My eyes land on him, a short distance from me. He's bloody and still, but I can see his chest moving up and down—he's still breathing.

I crawl forward to the best of my ability, pushing against the pain.

"Nikki?" I wheeze out.

Another pained moan. I push myself harder.

"Nikki," I repeat as I finally reach his side.

He's on his belly, his shirt ripped to reveal a nasty wound on his back.

"Luce?" He says my name in a ragged voice. He can barely move as he turns his head toward me. There's a big cut running from his eyebrow to his hairline, blood pouring down his face and blinding him in one eye. "My Luce?"

I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his in an attempt to draw strength from him and give him mine in return.

"I'm here," I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes—of pain and anguish, but most of all of worry. I don't know how badly I'm hurt, but most definitely not as bad as him. "Help will come. We need to hang on." I force the words out of my mouth even though I see the truth reflected in his gaze.

"I...love...you." He coughs, blood splattering onto the ground. "Will always...love?—"

"Don't speak," I stop him. "Please don't speak. Help will come. Please..."

A sad smile clings to his lips as he continues to look at me, the love in his gaze hurting more than the physical pain I'm feeling—because it has a finality to it that shakes me to my core. He squeezes my hand once, twice, before he loses all strength.

Slowly, so, so slowly, the corners of his lips drop down and he stops blinking.

His eyes are wide open, and he's not blinking.

"Nikki?" I call his name, pushing myself closer to him. "Nikki, please answer me," I call out in a frantic voice.

He has a vacant look, and no matter how much I yell at him, he won't reply to me.

"Nikki, please," I wail. "Please..."

I hold his hand tightly in mine as I bring my face to his, nuzzling my cheek against his, his blood smearing on my skin.

"Nikki, say something. Please don't leave me..." I continue to whisper frantically.

The physical pain is but a distant sensation as I feel every fiber of my being disintegrate at the realization that he might be gone—that he is gone.

No. No. He can't be gone. My Nikki can't be gone.

"You're fine." I nod to myself, kissing him on the lips. "You're fine. Help will come and we'll both be fine."

I wrap my arms around him even as I feel my bones cracking, and I hold on to him for dear life.

He's fine. He's just taking a nap. He's preserving his strength.

I tell myself that until I convince myself.

But as I wrap my arms tighter around him, an explosion erupts from behind me.

"We're fine. We'll be fine." That's what I keep whispering to myself as a blunt piece of metal hits me from behind, and I black out.