Page 20 of The Heir
He groans and rubs his chin, shuffling back to sit on one of the leather armchairs. "You haven't done anything. I'm just… tired."
"Okay, that's bullshit. You said you're pent-up. Talk to me." She shakes her head.
"I don't—fine. Listen. I'm not… used to this. I hate that Helena didn't keep you safe. I hate that she's been sotraumatizedby everything you two went through, butyou're here like nothing happened. You talk, you laugh, you terrorize this guy—" Roman jerks his head in my direction. "—and she'snot."
Roman seems like he wants another beating, blaming my wife for Helena's troubles. I move to rise from the sofa, but Melody slaps her hand across my chest and pushes me back down.
"I get it. I really do. That basement was… horrific, honestly. And I'm having issues keeping my calm when I go down those fucking stairs to sleep in another concrete bunker. I dream about bleeding out almost every night," she says with tears welling in her eyes. "I think about Helena constantly. All I want is for this to beover. I want my life back. I want my friend back. And I have to live with the knowledge that I made her sleep in the same fucking basement as a rotting, festering corpse."
"Is that number five or number six?" Roman gives her a half-smile, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
"Honestly? I don't know. I know that he had keys that could get us the fuck out. I did what I had to do. I bashed his skull into the floor. I stole the keys off of his corpse. We were so close—Roman, I'm not kidding, we gotout. We ran faster than I ever have in my life, but Ella was there. She caught us and frog-marched us back to that fucking hellscape and left the guy's body in the basement with us." She shudders. "I thought I'd never get rid of the smell. It feels like it crawled around in mybrain and made a nest. I canstillsmell it if I think hard enough. And the flies."
I run my hand along her shoulders and pull her in close. Her eyes have a faraway look, like she isn't even in the room with us. She probably isn't, not mentally. She's reliving that horror show. I got her out, but I brought her to another underground concrete room. I didn't even think about it. I just knew it was safe.
Melody
Flies buzz around the corpse. They never stop. They eat and breed, maggots writhing beneath the surface of his greasy skin. Even in death, he could never escape that slime-like shine over his features. I whisper prayers to gods I don't believe in for the insects to eat his eyes.
But when the glassy orbs are replaced by red, bare sockets? It's worse. Fuck, it's so much worse.
"Melody?" Dante's gentle voice snaps me out of my hellish vision.
"Huh?" I manage to mumble out, not quite believing I'm deep in Appalachia with him. With Roman. With Melnyk and the others, but no Helena.
"Where'd you go?" he asks, eyes searching mine for answers that I don't want to give.
"You know where she went," Roman interrupts. "None of us could keep her safe. She has to live with what she did. And so do we."
Roman stands and nods to me before disappearing down the stairs. His door slamming shut echoes around the concrete space. Melnyk approaches me and carefully lays a hand on my shoulder.
"I've seen many things, miss. The horrors of war spare no man." He shakes his head. "I have never been locked in a room with the rotting dead, though. You are very strong."
The other men—Forge, Moore, and Nihil—nod solemnly and shift in their seats. They don't seem like a very talkative bunch, and I'm pretty grateful for that. I don't want to rehash everything over and over again. I know I can't go back to my old life. Not yet, anyway. But god, I wish I could. I miss practicing still life sketches with Helena. I miss running up Dante's credit card with spa days. I miss doing whatever I want.
It's funny. I never had that luxury for my whole life until Dante swooped in. Most people don't get those kinds of luxuries ever. But I miss it. If I dig down deep enough, I kind of miss the greasy diner and my ratty apartment. I miss anything and everything that isn't being holed up in this safe house.
The one saving grace here is Dante. Dante, my good boy, who's currently gently stroking the back of my neck with the little slivers of fingernail he's allowed to grow out. Dante, who fought his best friend for making an offhand remark about… well, me and my husband's masculinity. Ugh, men. Sometimes, it sucks that I'm so attracted to this one. Though it doesn't suckthatbad. Especially when he looks at me with those beautifully green eyes, rimmed with thick, dark lashes.
And if I'm being honest with myself, watching him fight Roman tooth and nailwaskind of hot. Am I really about to let him off that easy? For lying to me—by omission—for, what, a year?
A gentle warmth emanates from my chest as I look down at my husband snuggled into my side. Shit. Yeah, I'm gonna let him out of the doghouse. But not before a little more groveling at my feet from him. That was… shockingly hot.
"My love?" Dante places a tender hand on my forearm. "What can I do for you?"
"You—"I pat his cheek a little harder than I mean to. "—can be my good little puppy, if it doesn'toffendyour masculinity."
Something like lust flashes across his face as he makes a strangled sound, trying to cover it up with a cough.
I crook my finger and pointedly stalk towards the stairs, down to our concrete-walled bedroom. My husband follows me just like the puppy Roman accused him of being. Good. He approaches me with open arms, but I shake my head.
"No. Down."
Dante immediately drops to his knees, hands shaking as he curls them into fists and hangs his head. "I'm sorry, love."
"Show me." I cock my head to the side and stare down my nose at him. "Show me how fucking sorry you are, Dante. You want my forgiveness? It's like I said. Fuckingbeg."
My husband lowers himself to his forearms and knees. I hear him suck in a breath, but I don't want him to beg with words. Not yet. I gently place my foot on his shoulder and apply just a little bit of pressure, just a touch, forcing his forehead closer and closer to the floor. He gasps and shudders, swallowing what sounds like a rumbling moan.
