Page 71 of Kept

“Doctor Baldwin is going to discharge you?—”

I cut her off with cheering.

“If your vitals are okay,” she finishes. Becky pokes and prods and hooks up her things. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him. Hopefully not much longer.”

“Wooohooo!” I cheer.

Becky smiles and tells me to stay in bed.

I look at Vincent. “Woof.”

He smiles at my attempt to work our inside joke in, but the expression seems forced.

Robert bounces into the room about this time, bringing me a smoothie that is almost as good as mine. “Alright! Salvation from the hospital food has arrived!”

“Oooh, give it to me!” I yell.

Robert stops, looks at Vincent, and dead pans, “Excuse me, Mr. Mafia, but isn’t that your job?”

“Oh my god, Robert!” I shriek.

Naturally, the doctor walks in at this exact moment. “Ah, so you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, please, can I go home?”

He nods his head. “Yes, I’ll discharge you. The nurse will be in to remove your IV, and you can get dressed.”

Half an hour later, the tech is pushing me out to the curb in a wheelchair, where Vincent is already waiting with his navigator. They both help me into the back seat like I’m broken, then Robert slides in next to me.

It’s the middle of the day, and traffic is light. I’m just so damned happy to be out of the stinking hospital room. I vaguely realize we are nowhere near home. Robert starts to notice too, clearly surprised.

Vincent pulls to a stop in front of a gorgeous brick townhome that is only a few blocks from the theater. He walks to my door and opens it. I swing my legs out to face him.

“Where are we?” I ask,

I see Vincent swallow. He starts to speak and then stops. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket. “Home.”

“What? Whose home?” I ask, staring numbly at the keys in his hand.

“Yours.”

Sometimes one word can make your whole world come to a screeching halt. I hear Robert gasp next to me.

Vincent sighs, looking pained. “Kitten, you were kidnapped and almost died. Repeatedly. I love you. But I’m no good for you.”

The tears start falling down my face. I try to speak but can’t find the right words.

I look at the keys, and his face, and then the keys again.

And then I slap him with every ounce of strength I have.

Robert laughs. Looking at Vincent’s stunned face, he tells him, “Oh, honey buns, I could have told you this was a bad idea!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Vincent De Luca? If you think for one goddamned second I’m going to let you make me fall in love with you and then drop me off like a puppy six months after Christmas, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

And then for good measure, I slap him again.

His dark eyes lock with mine, searching. Then he pulls me in for a soul-searing kiss. I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him like I might die without him.

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