Page 17 of Brutal Queen

“As do I,” adds Aurora, nodding at Doc Em like she’s bestowing her with a gift. And it’s then that my drug-addled brain realises that she is. Holy fuck. Aurora Bianchi is the don now. I may be the boss of this motley crew, but she’s in charge.

And fuck me if it doesn’t look hot as fuck on her. She was born to lead.

Not an entirely appropriate time to be noticing how much I want her, but my mind is a jumble of unconnected thoughts and disjointed feelings right now, heavily influenced by morphine. I can’t seem to follow a train of thought to save my life.

Doc Em retreats out of the room, leaving us all alone for the first time in what feels like forever. I have so many things that I want to say to them, but nothing that comes to me seems like it’s enough. How do you thank those you love for saving you from hell?

“Don looks good on you,mia guerrierotta.”

“Can you give us a minute, guys?” she says, turning to the others, and I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as they fall into a group embrace. Nico and Benedict sandwich her in a heavy-handed bear hug while Sinclair taps his forehead to hers.

“We’ll be back with snacks and a remote to get the TV working. If you’re going to be bed-bound, can’t have you missing your stories, can we? Aurora’s been pissed that she’s had no one to watch the new season ofBridgertonwith,” Nico says on his way out the door.

I can’t help but chuckle. “Guess my secret’s out.”

“Wasn’t much of a secret, Enzo. I snitched on you almost immediately,” she says with an impish grin.

“Come here, Aurora,” I say while wiggling the fingers on my right hand. “I need to touch you. I need to know that this is real.”

“I know what you mean. I never thought I’d see you again.”

She gets a chair and pulls it close, entwining her hands around my good one and bringing it to her lips. The second her hot breath strokes across my knuckles it anchors me, reassuring me this isn’t a dream.

“I am so fucking sorry, Enzo. We didn’t know. He shot you in front of us, made it look like you were dead. We had no idea you were alive…” Her words descend into incoherent mumbles where I only make out the odd ‘I’m sorry’. I want to hold her. Pull her to me and not let go until she truly hears my words, but she can barely look me in the eye.

“Mia guerrierotta, stop,” I demand, unable to mask my frustration. “Don’t you dare apologise. I’d do the same again in a heartbeat if it meant you never had to endure Max again. What I experienced was nothing compared to the years you endured.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Zo. If anyone understands what you’ve been through, it’s me.”

“Look at me, Aurora.” I pull my fingers from her grip and attempt to lift my right arm to cup her face, desperately trying to suppress a grimace as pain explodes through my body. She leans into my touch and closes her eyes, hiding herself away from me. “Look at me, please.”

Finally, she obeys. I’m not sure what she was expecting to see in my expression, but I have nothing but love and respect for her. I don’t blame her for Max’s depravity. Equally, I can’t lie to her. She’ll know what he did to me and I don’t think I’m ready to open this particular Pandora's box. What with the drugs and the concussion from the fall, I’ve been able to ignore the brief flashes of memory that have begun haunting me. But if we talk about it, my biggest fear is that it will unlock the floodgates and I won’t be able to keep the memories at bay.

Is denial the healthiest coping mechanism? Fuck no.

But I’m simply not ready to deal with it. I’m alive. I’m safe. And she’s here with me. They’ve all been here for me. That’s all I want right now.

“I can’t think about that, little warrior. I’m really hoping that you, of all people, will understand,” I whisper, my voice rasping like sandpaper in my throat.

She nods, slowly, and in this moment, I’ve never felt closer to her. We are bound together through a horrendous, painful experience, but I’m grateful that I will always have her understanding.

“Did you mean what you said yesterday?” I ask her, changing the subject.

“You were still pretty out of it… I wasn’t sure you’d remember. There was a time I thought I’d never get to say it to you and now I have you back, I’ll tell you every day,” she says, leaning down and taking my jaw in her hands, careful to avoid the road rash on my left cheek. It’s tender as fuck, but I don’t care. I’d rather have the feel of her touch on my skin than avoid a little pain. “I fucking love you,mio re.”

Her words knock the air out of my lungs.My king.

I’m the furthest thing from deserving such a title, but I don’t fucking care. Before I can say anything else, her lips press against mine, stealing my words and my thoughts.

I am nothing but hers.

“I love you too, Aurora,” I whisper against her lips.

My feelings are no surprise, but the joy of being able to say them out loud throws my world out of kilter. For so long, I have kept every hope, every desire buried so far down that I convinced myself they were nothing more than unrealistic fantasies, not meant for men like me. I don’t fucking deserve this woman, but there’s nothing on earth that will stop me from having her.

Her lips are soft against mine, leaving imprints of warmth that set my pulse racing. Her impatient tongue presses eagerly, demanding entry, dancing with mine until her delicate gasps grow wanton and desperate.

“I wish I could curl up on you, do more than just hold your hand.” Her voice breaks as she sits back down on the chair, absent-mindedly, running her fingers across my knuckles, circling the back of my hand, and soothing me with her gentle caress.

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