Page 7 of The Beast Who Begged Me

I extend a hand, but he’s out of reach. So I make what feels like a massive effort, and shift my leg, nudging him. He scrunches up his nose, but stays asleep.

I open my mouth to say his name, but all I produce is a creak like a rusty hinge. I try again with my leg, shove him harder, and this time he jerks awake, sitting bolt upright and staring at me.

“Hi,” I manage to get out, hoarse and whispery. It sounds more like a sigh than a word, but the relief and happiness on Dami’s face make me smile.

He’s on his feet in an instant, leaning over me, cupping my face in his hands and pressing his lips to my forehead in a soft kiss. “Hi,” he says into my hairline. Then, pulling back, he says gruffly, “I’ll get the doc.”

My hand fists in his sleeve. Don’t. Don’t go. I can’t say it, my throat won’t open up except to wheeze, but I hang on and stare up at him.

He wraps his hand around mine and squeezes.

“What happened?” I croak, then start coughing. It’s loud enough to wake the others in the room, and a moment later, they’re all crowding around me, even Sammy, though he’s more watchful and shy than Rosa and Vito, who both lean in to hug me. Rosa is crying through her smiles, muttering familiar prayers in Italian.

“I’ll get the doc,” Dami repeats, and he’s gone before I can catch him back.

It’s nice to be hugged and petted, to have Vito beaming at me like the proud grandfather I never had, patting me as though to make sure I’m solid, but Dami is all I want right now.

“You okay?” Sammy asks, hovering behind Rosa. His hands are rammed in his pockets as he watches me.

I don’t have anything left. No voice, no wit, no composure. So I just look at him and mouth a Thank you.

Sammy goes scarlet and stares at his shoes.

Dami is already back with a doctor, who looks harried and annoyed. She takes up the chart. “Extubated this morning,” she murmurs. “Responsive.” She glances at the chart again, then at me. “Mr. Orsini, is it?”

Behind her, Dami’s gaze snaps to meet mine.

I catch onto another shard of memory: the paramedics leaning over me as I lay there on the sidewalk, asking me my name. I reached for a name that made me feel safe.

Dami is still staring at me. I can’t tell if he’s angry, surprised, or just weirded out.

I nod at the doctor, but I hold Dami’s eyes. His throat works and he looks away at last.

The doctor hits the call button for a nurse and clears the room for further examination. Rosa kisses my knuckles twice before Vito gently draws her out, and Sammy slips through the door last with one glance back.

“You too, sir,” the doctor says to Dami.

“I’m staying,” he tells her.

“I want Dami,” I croak out. Barely.

But I’m heard. The nurse helps me sit up, arranging the pillows behind me. He removes the IV, the tubes in my nose. Helps take off the sticky nodes that had me hooked up to a machine next to the bed, and watches as the doctor listens to my heart and lungs again.

The whole time, Dami doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“Everything’s progressing well,” the doctor says at last. “But I imagine Mr. Orsini will feel better after a shower.” She looks to the nurse. “John, perhaps you could assist the patient?”

“I will assist the patient,” Dami says immediately.

I nod in agreement. “I want Dami,” I tell them again hoarsely. My voice is getting better, but it still feels like I’ve swallowed a lump of coal, and my hair reeks of smoke.

“There’s a seated area in the shower if you find you’re struggling,” the nurse says in an attempt to defuse the tension.

The problem is, there’s always tension between Dami and me, even when we’re at our most docile. I feel it now, even when the only thing burning in him is concern rather than…whatever else it is we’ve been building up between us over the last month.

Then, at last, we’re alone.

Dami looks down at me. “You need help getting out of bed?” he asks, and his voice sounds almost as rough as mine.