Page 86 of The Toy Collector

The lights blur around me, and just as I think I might pass out again, I feel him. The weight of his stare. The weight of his hand.

“Piper.” God I love the way he says my name. He doesn’t need to raise his voice, doesn’t need to do anything but say my name. It roots me, pulls me back from the edge. “Tell the good doctor you understand. I need to get you the fuck out of here before I lose my mind.”

“Yes.” The word is a breath, a whisper. “I understand.” I don’t know if I mean it, but I know what he needs to hear. And maybe I need it, too.

“Good.” She nods once, crisp and precise. “I’ll make sure everything is ready so you can leave.” Then she walks out. I watch her leave, feeling the sound vibrate in my bones.

“Enzo.” It’s the only word I can find, the only one that matters.

He releases my hand only long enough to brush hair from my forehead, knuckles grazing my cheek. “I’m here.” He tucks a blanket around me, smooths it down, and I sink under the weight of it. Under the weight of him. The world narrows to his presence.

“Don’t leave.” The plea is ugly, too raw, but it’s out before I can stop it.

“Never.” He says it like a promise, like a threat.

I don’t bother asking him why I’m here, I already know he won’t answer me. Not until he deems it necessary for me to know. That should piss me off, right? Then again, denial has always been my best friend. Maybe that’s why I’m content lying here until we can leave.

When Dr. Voss returns, she finally disconnects me from the tangle of wires like she’s disarming a bomb. “Do you want your clothes back on before you leave?” she asks, gesturing at a bag with what I presume to be my belongings.

“No,” Enzo answers for me. “We’ll be fine.” He takes the time to shake her hand, smirking when he notices the way I narrow my eyes whilst slowly pushing myself up.

My feet barely touch the floor before Enzo scoops me up, grabs the bag, and carries me out. Each step is making me nauseous, so I close my eyes, not opening them again until I feel fresh air on my face.

Breathing hurts when the ice cold air hits my lungs, but it’s a good hurt. I greedily inhale as deeply as possible, relishing the burn. It’s making me feel alive.

“Wait,” I insist when Enzo opens the car door.

He doesn’t ask why, doesn’t put me down, and doesn’t seem impatient while I have a weird ass moment with the fresh air. Reaching up, I cup his cheek, running my fingers across the stubbled skin, all the way down to his lips. Damn, he looks really kissable right now.

Instead of taking advantage of seeing him for the first time, I sigh. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

He gently sets me down in the car. Then he slides in next to me, wrapping his arm around my body while telling the driver to go. I’m too tired to ask where we’re going or who’s driving. I just want to go back to sleep.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Enzo’s nudging me awake. “We’re here,” he announces softly.

He carries me into the building Teddy owns, refusing to let me walk. “You can put me down,” I protest.

“I could.” The corners of his lips lift, and he smiles. Damn, seeing his smile is something. “But I won’t,” he continues.

“I feel silly,” I grumble as he unlocks my front door and carries me inside the apartment. If I’m honest, I’m not sure my legs could carry me right now, so instead of arguing further, I press my lips together.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He says it like a decree. Like it’s never been up for debate. No, he genuinely means it, and I hate that I believe him. That part of me preens under the weight of those words.

“Enzo, I—” He cuts me off with his mouth on my hair, a ghost of a kiss.

“You need to rest.” That’s not a suggestion, it’s an order. His grip is firm, unrelenting. “Or do you want a shower first?”

Ugh, now that he’s mentioned it, I definitely want a shower. “A shower would be nice. But I can walk by myself.” I stubbornly lift my chin, surprised when he lowers me to my feet.

“As you wish,” he smirks over his shoulder as he disappears into the bathroom, and I slowly trail after him.

God, why did I insist on walking? My legs are trembling, my balance shot to hell. I hate how weak I feel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m by no means one of those girls who can run miles without breaking a sweat. But I can usually walk my ass aroundwithout feeling like I’m twenty-six going on eighty.

When I finally make it into the bathroom, Enzo’s already running a bath. Steam rises from the tub. I walk over and sit down on the edge, letting out a deep exhale as I do.

“Need help to undress?” he asks, his eyes glinting.

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