Chapter 15
15
Max
Max couldn’t move from the weight of Grey on top of her.
She tried to scream his name, but nothing came out. The world was black. The world was ringing. Just a black, ringing world with an unmoving Grey on top of her.
The ghostly sound of a dishwasher rumbled in her head, churning her insides ...
Wait. No. That was a breath.
He’s breathing.
Something shuffled next to her.
Grey was breathing but he wasn’t moving. Every time she tried to squirm out of his grasp, he held her tighter, pushing her to the ground.
Everything was still ringing. But someone was yelling. Their yells were slightly lower-pitched rings.
‘Fire,’ someone was saying. ‘We have to get out.’
‘I can’t move him,’ she said to the disembodied voice. ‘He won’t get up.’
‘Hold onto me,’ the form on top of her said. ‘Just keep holding on, I won’t let go.’
‘The bomb detonated, Grey,’ Max said. ‘It’s over. We have to get out.’
He started to move. But not by choice. Someone was attempting to pull him off her.
‘Hold ON!’ he yelled in her ear. And she understood.
‘Get up!’ The terrified voice of the unflinching, consummate Giovanni Barbarani shook her whole body. But she didn’t move.
‘Hey,’ she whispered in Grey’s ear like he’d done to her back in the cellar. She wasn’t going to move him with threats or screams. He was somewhere else. ‘It’s okay.’
His body trembled. He pressed down into her even more, his stubble against her throat. She could barely breathe.
‘Greyson.’ He was everywhere. Her lips spoke into his skin. There wasn’t a breath between them. ‘You’re home. You’re not there. You’re home.’
There was a grunt. It came right from his belly, through his throat. She felt the whole thing.
‘Greyson.’ Her lungs screamed. ‘Grey, you’re not there. You’re here. I’m here too.’
The shaking was slowing, replaced with heavy breaths that pulsed through her like treacherous waves.
‘Get off her, Greyson. Goddamn it, boy, you’re killing her! Affrettatevi! ’ The blur of Giovanni ripped at Grey’s shoulders. But he was already pushing himself up.
He hung there above her – suspended in a push-up position, breath ragged and hot.
‘We have to go,’ she said, straight into his eyes. His lips tightened. She could see the realisation of what had happened, of where he’d gone, darken his face like a storm. She wanted to tell him it was okay. But she couldn’t.