Page 137 of Five Fingers of Death

“Has she come out yet?”

“No.”

I could hear them talking about me, but I refused to move. My whole body felt like dead weight, and I had no desire to move from the comfort of my bed.

“It’s been three fucking days, Vira,” Jason snapped. “I need to see her.”

“If she wants to see anyone, she’ll say so.”

God, Vira was too good to me. She always had my back, no matter what.

“No. This has gone on long enough. I gave her time, but this shit has to end.”

“Wait!”

I heard his boots pounding on the stairs, but I still didn’t move. My whole body was numb to everything, including the wrath I knew I would face when he came in and looked at me. He was going to be pissed, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

Yesterday, I remembered the moment the doctor told me the baby was gone. My memory had been hiding those details from me—the pain of delivering my child, but knowing she was already gone. And Zavala…he was so cruel, holding my dead baby up, showing me her lifeless form as he blamed me for her death.

Since then, I hadn’t been able to drag myself from bed. Nothing around me seemed to matter, not even eating or drinking. I had sunk into a depression so deep, I wasn’t sure I could claw my way out.

My eyes did a slow blink as Jason walked around and crouched down in front of me. The concern in his eyes normally would have made me shrink in on myself, but today I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Izzy,” he whispered, taking my curled hand in his. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

I continued to stare past him. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to tell him my shame, about how I had ruined the one good thing in my life. He already knew my baby was gone. I’d told him the worst of what happened before the delivery. But this…

I took a shattered breath and closed my eyes. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Baby, I need you to talk to me. You’ve been holed up in here for days. This isn’t good for you.”

He didn’t get it. He never would. “Just leave,” I whispered, not having the energy to say anything more.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

The rough command in his voice nearly had me opening my eyes, but I fought the wave of emotion that crashed through me at the heartbreak in his voice.

“Alright. I get it. You don’t want to talk about it, but we’re not doing this. Not again.”

I thought for sure that meant that he was leaving, and the thought brought me both pain and relief. Relief that he was leaving, and pain that he didn’t think I was worth it. I already knew that. I shouldn’t be upset.

I argued with myself back and forth for a whole five seconds, and then the covers were ripped from my body and cold air washed over my skin. Jason shoved his arms under my legs and back, pulling me from the bed.

Screeching, I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of bed. I’m not letting you fall into some dark hole, Izzy.”

The beginning stirs of indignation lit inside me, but it wasn’t enough yet to argue. Yes, I wanted to be in my bed, but I also calmed instantly at the feel of his arms around me.

Except, he had other plans.

He carried me into the shower and set me down, turning on the spray without bothering to get undressed first. Cold water shocked my body, leaving me a shaking mess, but Jason immediately adjusted the water and tugged at the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head.

My gaze snapped to his and something inside me sparked. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of your head. It’s time to shower.”

The shirt was yanked away from my body and tossed on the floor. He pulled the shower curtain shut and grabbed the removable shower handle, holding it over my head.

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