Chapter 27 #14
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, over and over. His voice cracks. "I'm so fucking sorry. Rava…" He pulls back just a little. Sees my face. Sees my mouth that can't form words.
Sees my bleeding hand. "Wait what the fuck, why are you—why are you bleeding so much?!" He takes a look at the cut. I pull my hand back. I don't even know why. I'm panicking.
I can't get up. I don't want to. He kisses my forehead. My temple. My hair. "I'll be right back," he says. "Don't move. I'm not leaving. I'm just getting water. Stay here. Stay with me."
He's gone.
My breath hitches. A scream builds in my chest and I swallow it down hard.
He's back.
He kneels again, hands shaking, water bottle in hand. "Here. Drink. Come on, baby. Please." He holds it to my lips. I can barely hold it. He does it for me. My throat burns. His hand touches my cheek. I lean into it. Tears keep falling. "Can we go back inside and clean your—"
"No."
I don't even know why I said it. I just don't want to go back inside. He leans in and kisses my forehead again, slower now. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry for everything. For all of this. For putting you through it." His voice shakes. "I never wanted you to see this part of me," he says.
I close my eyes. Let myself fall forward. Into him.
"You did so good," he whispers. "Rava, you did something fucking amazing." My hands are cold. I feel him kiss the side of my face. "You didn't freeze. You didn't run. God, you found the box. You saved it. You saved me."
I want to talk. I want to say I was scared out of my mind, that I didn't know what the hell I was doing, that my chest hurts and my fingers are going numb. But he won't stop. And I don't want him to.
"You saved my ass. You saved everything. I don't even know how you did it. You were alone. You were scared, and you still knew what to do." My fingers clutch the back of his shirt. It's the only thing holding me upright.
"I owe you my fucking life," he whispers, forehead to mine. "And I'm not saying that to be dramatic. I mean it. You saved me. You're the bravest person I've ever met. I'm not joking, baby," he breathes. "You thought quicker than me. You acted. You protected me. That's supposed to be my job."
I let out a choked breath, something like a laugh. His hand grips the back of my neck. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
Gio's voice is quieter now. "Hey," he says gently, brushing my hair back. "Wanna go inside? Let me take care of your hand. Please."
I nod fast. Everything still feels like it's spinning. "Did you hit anything else?" he asks, crouched in front of me.
I don't answer right away. I just move my head. He nods, like that alone is a miracle. "Good. That's it. Deep breath, baby."
"I thought—" My voice breaks immediately. "God, she was so close. Gio, I could hear her, she was right there. I thought—I thought she was gonna find me."
His arms are around me again before I finish the sentence. He holds me tighter this time. "I know," he murmurs, voice shaking. "I know, baby. I'm so fucking sorry."
"And then—" I let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, almost a sob. "She threw some kind of metal thing. It hit my shoulder. I had to stay completely still. I wanted to scream so bad."
He presses his lips to my temple. I close my eyes. My fingers are still clutching that goddamn box. "You did it," he says, voice barely a whisper. "Rava, you did it. You saved everything."
Just as the adrenaline starts to crash, something clicks in my brain. "It was my dad," I say suddenly. "He told me. That night. He said he'd make you pay."
Gio stiffens. "Don't worry about this now. You're here. That's all that matters. So let's clean this up. Please. Before it gets worse." My shoulder hurts. My hand is still bleeding. But Gio is still here. And I'm not hiding anymore.
36) Smile For The Camera
Rava
Gio lifts me off the balcony floor gently. I'm still clutching the box. It feels wrong to bring it back into the house. Letting poison seep in again. He sees it on my face.
"Listen to me," he says. "We'll take care of your hand first. Then we're getting rid of that thing for good, okay?"
I sniff, nod. He nods too, like we're making a pact. "Okay." We step back inside. The bedroom is a fucking mess. Things are everywhere. Open, torn through, scattered. It doesn't feel like his room anymore.
Not the warm, quiet space I woke up in this morning. I feel tears start to sting, but I hold them back. Gio notices. "Don't let this stress you out," he says softly. "I'll fix it. All of it. It'll look exactly the way it did before."
Then he smiles a little. "Good excuse to actually dust under the bed." I let out the smallest laugh. I sit down slowly on the edge of the bed, still holding the box in my lap. I hate that this happened to him. I hate that I know who did it. And I hate that I'm definitely right.
"Stay here," he says gently. "I'll grab everything we need."
He jogs off down the hallway. I hear him rummaging through drawers, cabinets. Then he's back, nudging aside the scattered mess on the floor with his foot as he makes his way to me.
He kneels beside me, places the stuff down carefully, and looks up at me. "Wanna give me your hand?" he asks, quietly. I nod and offer it. "It's gonna hurt," he says. "But if it doesn't hurt now, it'll hurt worse later. You probably already know that."
"You're right," I murmur. "I know." He starts cleaning the wound. It does hurt, a lot, and I flinch. His face twists with guilt like he's the one causing it. Like I didn't do this for him.
Like he wouldn't do worse for me if the roles were reversed. He doesn't say anything for a moment. Just works gently. For the first time since I saw the lights of that goddamn police car, I start to feel kinda warm again.
He finishes tying the bandage around my hand. His fingers are slow. I can feel how carefully he's touching me. Then he looks up. "How'd this happen?"
"I cut it," I say quietly. "While I was looking for the box. I knocked over a frame. Didn't even notice the glass until it was already in my hand." I watch his expression shift. His jaw tenses, holding back something heavy. Guilt, probably. Pain. I don't know.
For a second, it looks like he might fall apart. But then…he smiles, like he's proud of me.
He leans closer, still holding my bandaged hand. "You did a crazy thing, Rava." His voice cracks a little. "I'm not exaggerating. Not even a little." He runs a hand down my back, slowly. "If you weren't here, if you hadn't been with me this morning…God, I don't even want to finish that sentence."
He exhales, breath shaking. "They searched. They searched right where the box was. I stood there, trying to keep my face calm, trying to act normal, and inside I was dying."
I'm silent. Letting him talk. "I could almost feel the cuffs, Rava.
I was one second away from losing everything.
From losing you. My life, my mom, all of it.
Gone." His voice breaks a little. "But then she turned.
She turned around, and I saw her leave that spot without finding anything, and I—" He pauses. Swallows.
"I swear to you, I've never felt anything like that. Never. It was like being pulled out of a nightmare while still screaming in it." He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine.
"And you. You were the reason. You're the reason they found nothing.
You're the reason I'm still here, sitting across from you, talking like this instead of in a fucking cell.
You did that. For me. You saved my ass. You didn't have to, but you did.
And I don't—" he stops, shaking his head.
"I don't think I'll ever forget what you did for me today. "
My eyes sting again, but I smile through it. "I had to. I wanted to. It's you."
He pulls me into his arms, presses his face against the side of my neck. "I'm gonna spend the rest of my life making this up to you," he murmurs. "I swear to God. Whatever it takes."
I close my eyes and let myself fall into him. I don't care how much it hurts. I don't care what comes next. He's safe. He's here. And that's all I wanted.
Lulu climbs up beside me. Always knowing exactly when to show up. I stroke her gently behind the ears. My hand still aches. But I can breathe now. Gio watches us, eyes a little softer now.
I try to lighten the mood. "If they'd taken you in, could I have filed for custody of Lulu?"
He blinks at me. Then bursts out laughing. "I'd probably be thinking about it in the back of the police car," he says, wiping his face. "Would've asked them to deliver my final decision in an envelope. Dramatic and official."
We both laugh. Lulu lets out a tiny meow like she approves. But then I exhale. Because I know what's coming.
The next storm.
"I'm gonna go," I say quietly, petting Lulu once more. "Next door. I'll grab a few things. I'll be right back and then…we'll get rid of the box. For good."
Gio straightens a little. "You sure you're okay?"
I nod. "Yeah. I just need a moment. I'll be quick. Don't touch anything, okay? I want to help you clean this up."
His brow furrows. "Absolutely not. Don't even think about it." He leans in, kisses my forehead gently. "I'll have as much cleaned as I can by the time you come back."
I smile, just a little. Then stand. Because we still have a job to finish.
I step outside. I see his car. Fuck.
My steps quicken without permission. I feel like I’m running toward the scene of a crime. I don't hesitate. Push my house's door open. Don't even register Lorenzo or Daisy as I storm past them.
I hear her call my name, confused, but I can't stop.
Not now. Not when the only thing in my head is his face.
My father's fucking face.
I find him in the hallway. Cool and composed like always. I don't stop.
"Are you out of your fucking mind??" I yell, slamming my hands against his chest.
He staggers slightly. I shove him again.
"Do you even understand what you've done??"
"Rava—"
"No. Fuck no! You don't get to speak first!"