Pearls of sweat shimmer on his skin. “Fuck, my head hurts...,” he groans, pressing his palm against his forehead, “feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Breathe, Nero. Deep breaths.”
He tries a couple of times but fails and soon he sounds as if he’s out of breath and he holds onto the bed knob, turning his whole body away from me and his fist clenches. His body moves in a jerky wave and suddenly he’s shaking so hard that that his size causes the whole mattress to shake. Grabbing his chest as if he’s in pain, he groans,
“Can’t lose you...”
I clasp his face to turn him toward me but notice to my shock that there’s froth at the corners of his mouth and his eyes roll back in his head when he falls onto the bed. I loom over him, holding on to him, calling his name but he’s unresponsive. His hands are clasped on his chest, his body shuddering.
Soon after, his eyes start rolling around and it looks like he’s about to go unconscious. Letting out a yelp, I dash into the bathroom and wet a towel under cold water. “Nero, you just need to calm down, I’m still here aren’t I...?” I croak but then trail off.
I might still be here but Nero isn’t.
The bed is empty and I drop the towel to the floor. Where did he go, did he block out what I was saying again? I resist the impulse to call his name and look down the dark hallway. Gulping, I push the door to the wall, wondering where he’s hiding.
“Nero?” I whisper.
A body comes up behind me, a hand cupping my mouth and I freeze. My eyes flare, heart pounding when he puts his mouth to my ear. Shit! How did he recover so fast?
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers. “It doesn’t matter who you say you are. You’re still mine.” He pushes me up against his chest, holding me so hard, my heels nearly lift from the floor and I can’t breathe. “I can’t accept you not wanting me.”
I pant, noticing in my periphery that something is moving outside but my mind’s too occupied with Nero and then he whispers,
“I claim you, Monique.” He presses his lips against my temples. “Whoever you are.”
****
Nero
She whimpers, her knees caving but I hold her up. I’ll never let her fall. As long as she stays where she belongs, everything will be alright...I jerk, aggressively looking up when Serge busts through the door and three other men jump through the windows.
Monique screams in surprise and I put her behind me, pushing her up against the wall and they hold guns up to my face. “Freeze motherfucker,” Serge snarls and Monique lets out a pant, trying to look behind my shoulder but I hold her down.
“Wait...Serge,” Monique begins when Serge cuts her off.
“Give her up or I’ll put a bullet through your brain.” He takes a firmer grip of the gun, sneering and a shadow falls over my eyes. Here’s a man who think he can take away what’s mine and I can’t let that happen.
“Stay back, Monique,” I say, “I’ll handle this.”
“Be careful, they’ll kill you,” she croaks but they won’t. I’m going to fight for us and these men can’t have her. They deserve to die for trying. I start ushering Monique toward the bedroom, stopping when Serge takes a step closer to me.
“Fire that gun and you might hit her,” I warn, a growl erupting in my throat and his lip pulls over his teeth.
“I have a pretty good aim.”
“Serge, don’t shoot,” Monique pleads, “this isn’t what it looks like. I promise.”
“Tais-toi!” he sneers. “The surveillance cameras show him dragging you into a vehicle while you fought for your life.”
“I know, but he never hurt me,” Monique cries. “He’s never going to hurt me, now lower your damn gun!”
Surprise, crosses Serge’s face along with the other three’s but then Serge frowns. “You have that syndrome thing....” He takes a steadier grip of the gun. “But don’t worry, I’m taking you out of here.”
“She stays with me,” I growl and iciness floods my veins. A haze makes the corners of my eyes blurry and a pulse pounds in my temples. Steadily, mechanically and I feel myself blocking everything out and turning into a machine.
What happens next is unclear but suddenly I’ve pushed Monique into the bedroom, closed the door and rolled across the floor. Bullets fly everywhere, trying to hit me but I hide behind the kitchen island. The Kalashnikov’s in the corner. Loaded. I take the risk, reaching for it and a bullet barely misses my hand. Yanking it to my chest, I roll over the floor before looking up from the kitchen island. I fire, hitting one of the men in the leg and he bellows in pain.
I duck when bullets rain down on me. When they stop for a moment to reload, I take the chance to grab the still bloody knife before throwing myself out there. The rifle smacks across a jaw, my knife gliding into flesh and hitting bones. The fight turns into close combat and I groan when I get a fist on the throat but respond by angling my elbow, cutting right up and a grin curves my lips when the man roars in pain.
Whirling around, I kick, then stab before biting into a throat and stop just when I feel the blood pour. They’re not keeping me from her. I’ll rise from the dead if I have to. She’s inside me and I want her. My need for her is a well without a bottom. There’s no end to my passion.
Monique keeps banging on the door but she needs to stay in there. I groan when hands wrap around my throat, choking me and I head butt the man behind me, before launching myself at Serge and shove him into the wall. Raising my fist, I slam it into his face over and over when I’m suddenly jumped.
Three of the men attack me, pulling me away from Serge and throw me down on the ground, fists landing, kicks punching and then I get slammed in the head with a rifle. Fuck...darkness falls over my eyes and I blink, forcing myself to stay awake and the smell of gasoline floods my nostrils. Serge is cursing, yanking at my bedroom door and pulling Monique out.
I growl in anger and she tries to stumble toward me, her face twisted in a frozen mask, hair frazzled and her eyes are red as if she’s been crying. “What did you do to him?” she yells, running toward me when Serge grabs her around her waist.
He refuses to let her come to me and I snarl, trying to get up but the pressure in my head is too much and I’m starting to lose consciousness. Monique’s bare legs dangle in the air when Serge pulls her up and she tries to fight him, reaches out for me but he throws her over the shoulder and blood slides down my mouth.
“My world...,” I groan, agony filling me and I reach, and reach...
But she never takes my hand.