Page 185 of The Wicked
He didn’t say anything.
“Wouldyouwant that?” I asked this time.
He hesitated. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“I know,” I said.
His gaze moved around my face, and I just knew he wasthinking too hard about it, weighing consequences, advantages, and disadvantages… but after a short minute, he nodded. “Okay. I’m not opposed to that either… for now.”
I nodded, suppressing a smile as I responded.
“For now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Zahra
I’d always been able to tell whenever someone was about to die.
This was probably because 75 percent of my life had been spent with death surrounding me. Some by my hands, and some by people around me. It had gotten to the point where it stopped bothering me.
I used to hate it—the thick smell of gunpowder, capable of making you gag once a bullet hit a living person; the scent of blood and fear tainted the atmosphere before you saw the person falling to the ground. I used to hate all of it, even if the victim deserved it. But it had been years since I flinched before pulling a trigger or slitting a throat; and it didn’t take long enough to attune my senses to the nearness of death. Right now, standing in front of the room Casmiro was lying in, I knew death wasn’t around the corner, and the feeling that came with that realization didn’t exactly sit well with me.
I knocked twice before I opened the door and stepped in.
Upper was the only one there when I closed the door behind me, the sound making him look up from his phone.
Casmiro still wasn’t awake, and according to what I’d heard when Elio and I arrived after the sun came up, his vitals were looking good, and he was responding well to treatments.
“Hey,” Upper said with a small smile.
“Hi… Still here?”
He thinned his lips, looking at Casmiro’s still form, the heart monitor beeping steadily by the side of the bed. My gaze lingered on it for a second before I looked back at Upper, who blew out abreath, getting to his feet. “Where else would I be? I tried calling; you never came back last night. What happened?”
“My phone was dead.”
He gave me a disbelieving look. “Yeah… and you just randomly disappeared with the boss?”
“No. We went back to his house here because he was upset about Casmiro. But the building was secured, and he passed out after taking a pill since he has sleeping problems, as he said. They took one of the shooters in for questioning, though.”
“Yes, Angelo informed me.” Upper eyed me, and I knew he wanted to probe. His suspicions about Elio and me were written all over his face.
To hell if I’m going to divulge anything.
“I’m sure Devil would have blown up my phone with worried texts. Did he text you?” I asked, changing the topic.
Upper’s curious stare turned into discomfort as he answered, “Yes.” His fingers brushed Casmiro’s bedpost. “He couldn’t reach you either, so he texted. We never text—but like, yeah, he wanted to ask about you,” he said, gaze flickering to mine. “But I told him you were okay.”
I nodded. “Okay… Areyouokay?”
His head snapped up to look at me. “What?”
“You look like you’ve barely slept,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, the whole, um—anxiety over what happened with Cas and those gunmen and everything. I’m all right though; I probably just need to bathe in coffee.” He let out a shaky laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
I glanced at Casmiro’s sleeping figure and then at Upper. “You can go get coffee; I’ll stay with Cassie while you’re out.”
