by Bethany-Kris
Her thought process moved slowly. Her understanding of her surroundings was non-existent. Little made sense as she blinked and swallowed, turned her head to see blending colors bleed together, and then blinked and swallowed again. A tightening in her chest made it difficult to breathe, like an elephant had perched itself on her body.
Elephants were not fun when they were sitting on someone.
It needed to go away.
“Elephants, huh?”
Kim recognized the dark, male tenor, but couldn’t place a person to go with it. Somehow, deep inside her soul, she knew it was wrong that she didn’t know to who it belonged. The slightly amused voice held a faint hint of fear, which sent sparks of panic dancing up her spine.
That anxiety must have shown though Kim didn’t know how. Warmth touched down to her arm, soothing away the worries instantly. It was only then she realized the rest of her body was numb but for the one spot where heat was blooming and spreading. She focused in on that feeling, those bleeding colors clearing, and felt herself beginning to drift off again.
It didn’t last long. A sting ricocheted up and down her arm. That warm, wonderful feeling that wasn’t supposed to be bad pinched her and ouch … it hurt. Kim flinched away from the painful sensation.
“Sorry, I know it hurts. I can’t have you closing your eyes again. It takes too much to get you out of it.”
Kim’s mouth finally caught up to speed with the rest of her body and decided to work. “Ow.”
Kim decided she hated that warm whatever with the familiar voice. Hated it.
“Hey, now. Don’t say you hate me, Tesoro. That’s breaks my fucking heart like you don’t even know.”
Pressure dotted on both sides of her face, letting heat crawl over her cheeks and willing the numbness there away. She felt her head being tilted to the side and up. Repeatedly she blinked to make the swelling masses of everything clear from her line of sight. One hand was holding a steering wheel, the other her jaw. Green eyes surveyed her before turning back to the road just as fast.
Giovanni.
Relief filled her as understanding dawned.
Pulse flashed into her mind. Photograph-like memories still and stained with holes of memory loss, flickered one after another. Franco’s words, his anger, and his actions. She wouldn’t disappear on him like that again, Franco promised. The lights moving around her, hands touching. Bitter flavor on her tongue.
Giovanni.
Something was still wrong.
“You’ll be okay,” Giovanni murmured. “Just keep looking at me, dolcezza.”
She did, but the overwhelming colors formed all over again, still threatening to take her under.
• • •
Kim was hot. She was lying on a soft bed. The place was quiet but for her fast-paced breathing, and her mind was beginning to clear from the haze, but she was still hot. Too goddamn hot. From the soles of her feet to the tips of her fingers, a fever raced over her skin.
And her hands were shaking. Or was that her entire body trembling?
Jesus, what was wrong with her?
Impulsively, Kim reached out for Giovanni but came up with nothing. He hadn’t left her side as far as she could remember. He talked her down from the stifling paranoia, his voice reassuring during the acid-induced delusions. But now … Where was he now?
The sheets on the bed were a stark white, the walls an earthy brown. Her mouth felt dry, but her body was sticky. She wasn’t afraid anymore, not with the scent of leather, smoke, and man surrounding her with familiar comfort. Kim stared at her surroundings, which was mostly the sweat soaked bed sheets her face was resting in. She decided moving wasn’t a good option because of her sluggish thought process and the dizziness muddling up her vision.
With every thundering beat of her heart, the temperature in the room only seemed to increase until Kim could barely breathe at all. Fuck, why was she so damned hot? And her heart—it was racing like crazy. Nothing about that was right.
“Gio!”
“Yeah?” His raspy answer to her call came from only a foot or two away behind her. Kim turned to her other side with great effort, every inch of her frame seemed like it weighed a hundred tons. Giovanni sat in a chair he must have pulled away from the wall, but he looked exhausted, even to Kim’s screwed up mind. “What is it, Tesoro?”
Kim swallowed compulsively, her throat raw. Speaking wasn’t as easy as she thought it was. “I’m … really, really …”
“Kim, così fan tutti,” Giovanni said, the sharpness of his Italian order for her to look at him breaking her out of the daze. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Hot. I’m too hot.”
Giovanni was out of the chair in an instant and kneeling over her on the bed, his speed making her dizziness worse. Hands that were far too warm placed down to her skin over and over, annoyingly so. That did nothing to aid in cooling her down and instead, only irritated her until she was cussing at him to leave her alone. Kim attempted to swat his hands away but failed miserably.
“Stop it, Giovanni, you idiot. I’m fucking hot, I said.”
“You stop,” he growled right back, stilling Kim. “You’re burning up. Don’t you feel that? It means you’re trying to come down, but it’s going to be really fucking shitty when you do. Cazzo … come here.”
Kim couldn’t object to whatever it was that he wanted because Giovanni plucked her up from the bed before she could voice her displeasure again. Cradled in his strong arms, the heat doubled once more, sickeningly so. She settled for calling him a name she probably wouldn’t otherwise, which he just ignored.
A few steps later and the brightness of a bathroom all but blinded Kim into silence. She tried to turn her eyes away from the light, but it was too late. The damage was done. Nausea swept through her insides so fast she couldn’t even warn Giovanni it was coming.
Somehow, he seemed to know.
Kim found herself with her knees on the floor in front of the toilet. Giovanni’s arm wrapped around her middle, keeping her upright while his other hand tangled into her hair, pulling it out of her face. Sickness spilled into the porcelain bowl. There wasn’t much to come out, but it hurt like nothing else. The unwavering bout of heaves that followed the vomit was worse.
Definitely not as bad as the mortification bubbling up with it all. More than anything, Kim wanted to hide. She felt like she needed to crawl away from the man holding her.
“Please leave me alone,” Kim whimpered. “Please.”
Giovanni’s hold around her midsection tightened. “It’s all right. It’s okay. You’re fine.”
Kim shook her head as tears fell. Gently, he rocked her to and fro, a soft shushing sound coming from his lips that pressed to the spot behind her ear. As comforting as it was, it also broke her heart to a million and one little pieces. It would never be able to repair itself, now.
She was so fucking in love with this man. Loved him like her lungs needed air and the earth needed the sun. Kim knew it, she just couldn’t handle the reality of it. Because loving Giovanni meant nothing more than pain. A heartache she didn’t want. She couldn’t have him, not for life. Forcing him away and keeping her own distance was easier.
It should have been easier this way. A clean break. It was anything but.
Kim was so stupid. A dumb little girl playing pretend in a grownup world. She just cried harder because of it. “Please, stop …”
Giovanni sighed deeply. “You good, or can you move?”
Kim didn’t know what in the hell she could do, so she didn’t respond at all.
“Come on, Kim, talk to me. You need to cool down. You’re overheating and it’s not good for your brain cells to be slowly cooked to death by a fever. A seizure, that’s what’s going to happen if I don’t get your body temperature down and quick. Do you understand that? A fucking seizure.”
How did he know this shit?
“I handled all the other crap tonight,” Giovanni continued behind her, “but if you go into a seizu
re, I’m calling for the paramedics. It’s too dangerous. I can’t fix that shit.”
“Yeah, okay,” was the best reply Kim could come up with.
Kim let him lift her from the floor. Giovanni flushed the toilet at the same time they came to stand. The vertigo and shaking she’d experienced earlier returned with damning force. Kim didn’t even bother trying to support herself. Giovanni’s solid form helped her stay upright.
In the back of her mind, Kim was aware the cognizance she had of her thoughts and body was returning slowly. She wasn’t plagued by the swarms of colors that didn’t make sense and only frightened the hell out of her. There was no confusion swimming through her thoughts. The sluggishness was still there, and a soreness was beginning to accompany it.
That heat, though … it was still as suffocating as ever.
“Breathe,” Giovanni ordered her as he turned on the shower. “And not like you’re running a marathon, Kim. You need to slow it down. Panting only makes your heart rate increase. Help me out a bit here.”
Kim tried to do as he suggested, but didn’t have the first clue if she was succeeding or not. Getting the air in her lungs was nothing. She craved the oxygen. It was keeping it there that was hard. The moment she inhaled, she immediately felt the need to get it out to release the pressure in her chest.
“Good, that’s better. Ready?”
Kim didn’t understand what Giovanni was asking her until the water hit her. It wasn’t freezing, but it wasn’t warm, either. She shrunk away from the cool spray coming from the shower head, only to find her face buried in Giovanni’s chest. He didn’t seem to mind, instead hugging her tightly as water soaked them both.
Once Kim got accustomed to the temperature, the relief was practically instant. The cooling sensation had her sighing. It wasn’t long before Giovanni was sinking down to the floor of the shower, taking Kim with him. She stayed curled in his embrace and let the cold spray do its work while her thoughts and heart continued to race.
“Calm down,” Giovanni said quietly. “I know it’s hard, but you need to relax a bit. You’re going to feel sick and like absolute shit. Just expect it. Feel your heart, Tesoro. It’s hammering too fast.”
Kim didn’t know how to do what he asked. It was impossible, given the way she felt. All the stupid things she had done were just catching up with her. Sure, some of her memories of the last few hours were missing, but most were still there.
“Twenty-one-years-old and you’re going to give yourself a fucking heart attack. What were you thinking?” Giovanni asked, his hold on Kim constricting like he was afraid to let go.
“That I didn’t want to feel.”
“Funny, it’s the complete opposite for me.” Giovanni made a sound Kim couldn’t decipher. “But because of him, really? You almost killed yourself because of Franco, Kim.”
“Better I do it than him,” she replied, knowing very well how that sounded. “It’s a lot quicker than the way he’s doing it, I guess.”
“Jesus Christ.” Giovanni’s forehead pressed to the back of her neck and she swore she could feel his teeth clenching. “And what about the rest of us?”
“I don’t know—”
“Me, Kim. What about me?”
For a split second, the heart in her chest stopped, right along with her air. “What?”
“God, don’t you know what that would do to me? When I found you like you were, I couldn’t even think. So fucked up. If I hadn’t been able to find you, there was a good chance you could have overdosed in that place and no one would have even noticed until it was too late. Why would you do that to me?”
She hadn’t really thought about it that way. Her careless actions seemed a great deal more selfish when she did. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
Kim didn’t answer; she wasn’t sure how without feeling like her whole heart and every piece of her soul was being broken apart by things completely out of her control. It wasn’t Giovanni’s fault she was so fucking addicted to him—to loving and wanting him—that even being near him was so punishing to her heart she couldn’t stand it.
The trembling rocking Kim’s frame increased, but it wasn’t because she was cold. Giovanni held her tighter in his embrace, drawing her in closer to his body. Even though it hurt to be that close to him, she rested her cheek on the spot where his heart beat below and let it soothe her. Giovanni was clearly angry and hurt with her, but he still held her. He still wanted her.
“I love you and you don’t even care, Tesoro. About me, you don’t. I keep thinking it’s there for us, and it’s been the only damn thing keeping me here, but you don’t care a bit.”
Oh, God.
Hearing that he loved her was the best and worst thing Giovanni ever could have done. What was she supposed to do?
“I do care about you,” Kim breathed. “I just …”
“What?” Giovanni asked. “Tell me. Give me something that makes me think I’m not wasting my time here or that all of this craziness is worth it.”
“Loving you is going to kill me, Gio.”
• • •
The reflection staring back at Kim in the mirror was unrecognizable. Her long hair was a ratty, knotted mess of tangles. There was a couple of bruises on her arms she couldn’t place and a scratch on her wrist. She didn’t have a clue how it got there. Some of the night before was easier to bring forth in her memories than others. Her usual pale complexion was sickly. She felt about the same, honestly.
Kim let the cold water from the tap pool into her hands before splashing it over her face in an attempt to wake up. She’d already gargled half of the bottle of mouthwash to rid the disgusting taste of stale vomit.
Again, Kim glanced at the mirror. Who in the fuck are you? It was the only question she could think to ask her reflection. The revulsion and shame she felt over her reckless behavior was thrumming deep.
When she woke up earlier, the hotel room was empty. Kim didn’t wonder for long about Giovanni’s whereabouts. The note he left on the bedside table explained he’d taken her clothes to be cleaned and would be back soon. Kim just wanted to disappear. The embarrassment was eating her alive. Facing Giovanni left her with more fear churning in her gut than even the thought of having to return back to Franco. Not because she thought Giovanni would hurt her … he couldn’t. People who love can’t hurt the things they needed to live.
Sweet Jesus.
He loved her.
She vaguely recalled Giovanni stripping her of the wet dress after her temperature had dropped enough that it was safe to get out of the shower. She did manage to find one of his T-shirts to pull on when she woke up and, of course, it smelled just like him. A little more penance to add on to her pile.
The panic she’d witnessed in Giovanni’s eyes was haunting Kim. It was a particular memory surrounded in the darkness of a club’s floor and bass filled music that she couldn’t quite get rid of. Regardless of how badly she wanted to.
Giovanni might not hurt her, but she sure as hell hurt him.
Guilt was a hard pill to swallow.
“Stupid girl,” Kim chided herself.
“I won’t having you calling yourself that,” Giovanni said from behind Kim.
She hadn’t heard him enter the hotel room, but the bathroom sink tap was still running and Kim learned long ago Giovanni could be very quiet when he needed to be. Add that to the headache pulsating to the back of her skull, and it was no wonder he surprised her.
Kim met Giovanni’s gaze in the mirror. There was no judgment looking back at her. Not an ounce of disappointment or even the anger he’d passingly shown last night. Empathy stared back in green irises, and that was all.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like hell just took up permanent residence in my stomach and head.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Giovanni chuckled, waving a brown paper bag in one hand. A plastic bag dangled in his other. “I have over the counter painkillers and Dramamine. Take some and come get
something to eat.”
At just the mention of food, Kim’s stomach threatened to revolt. It wasn’t like there was anything in it to expel, but the thought of putting something in her stomach just so she could have another puke party really didn’t sound like a smart idea.
“No, thanks.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Giovanni said firmly. “When you start mixing drugs like Molly and acid, you should at least know how to take care of yourself. Like getting food into your stomach before you get high, and making sure you have some decent nutrients in your system the day after. Since you clearly didn’t eat yesterday given all you could do was heave, you’re damn well going to chow down on something today. Let’s go.”
Kim sighed, feeling too defeated physically and emotionally to argue with a stubborn man. A small spark of defiance still remained, though. “Don’t treat me like a child, Gio.”
“Then don’t act like one, Tesoro. Give up the act. I know exactly how you feel right now. Let me take care of you, and we’ll figure the rest out. Nobody knows you’re here with me, and as far as I know, Franco’s held off from sending out the hounds to look for you.”
“My car,” Kim said in a whisper. “It’s parked a couple of blocks from Pulse.”
“Let Franco or one of his men find it. It’ll lead to nothing, anyway.”
Kim’s muscles protested as she stood straight and turned to meet Giovanni’s stare. “Thank you for … well, saving me from myself.”
“I’ll always save you, Kim. All you have to do is ask.”
There was so much more loaded in those simple words than what they appeared to be on the surface. For the moment, it was a Pandora’s Box Kim wasn’t sure she wanted to open between them just then. Giovanni didn’t give her the option to keep it closed.
“Did you mean what you said about loving me last night?” Giovanni asked.
“Yes, but it terrifies me. Every time I turned around, I was failing at acting like I didn’t love you, even inside my own crazy head. If I can’t make myself believe it, how in the hell am I supposed to convince the people around me?”