My breathing slows some knowing that she is here and she has seen me at my lowest. I have nothing to worry about when it comes to Cara seeing things as imperfect. I don’t have to be the flawless Aubrey Michelle. I can be just me, wild, silly, and a little crazy. With her I don’t laugh too loud, talk too much, or get overly excited.
“Everything is completely fine. The cleaners have come and gone, and somehow, they even got the blood out of the rug,” she says, shifting beside me.
Keeping my eyes clamped shut, still too afraid to open them because the pain behind my eyes is intense, and I don’t want to chance adding a migraine to my already pounding head.
“What about Nico? I would die if he saw me like that,” I whisper.
“Dying isn’t an option for you, Dusha Moya,” Nico rumbles from the corner where I know the armchair in my room sits.
“You are dead to me, Cara. Freaking dead,” I hiss.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember that later.” Cara sighs, wiggling closer to me. “I’m just glad you are awake to be angry with me that Nico is here and sees how perfectly imperfect you are.”
“Oh, when I can finally get my eyes open, and can stand up without the room spinning, I’m gonna pay you back then never speak to you again, twat waffle,” I growl.
My outburst causes Cara to laugh. The fact that she’s cackling in my ear does nothing to improve my discomfort.
“Cara, I think you might need to head home. Dusha Moya needs to rest.” Nico speaks from his spot. His rasp and rumble slides over my body.
Something about him being close, and watching over me causes a varied of mixed emotions to course through me. On one hand, I want to relax and revel in it, but on the other, I’m strung so tight at the thought of him being here, once again, seeing me weak that I could scream. I want so badly to let him being here mean something to me but I know like every time before he is going to be here long enough to take care of me and make sure I’m okay and then walk away again taking another piece of my heart with him when he goes back to his place in the shadows.
“I’m getting pretty tired. This kid is sucking every ounce of energy out of me.” Cara sighs, just before kissing me on the cheek.
I smile, opening my eyes slightly, laughing slightly as she tries to wiggle her pregnant self off my bed. The laugh causes a hiss from me as pain races across my brain lighting it on fire. I snap my eyes closed and pray that’ll help put the now raging fire out. It doesn’t and I can’t stop as a tear runs down my cheek. Without warning smoothing cold is placed on my forehead and across my eyes, easing some of the fire.
“Dusha Moya, you need to rest. I can’t stand to see you hurt.” Nico whispers, running a soothing finger down the side of my face.
His Russian is very thick and to most it sounds very gruff and harsh. I on the other hand love the way it rolls off his tongue. Trying with all my might to open my eyes.
“No, Dusha Moya, you need to rest. I’ll be here waiting right here to make sure you’re safe,” he murmurs, repeating his prior suggestion to rest. I’m caught off guard, and my heart races and my breath wavers when I feel the softness of his lips on my forehead.
“What does—” Nico’s finger settles on lips. The roughness causing a shiver to run down my spine.
What a great time to have those kinds of feelings you crazy woman. When he pulls away I mourn the loss of his warmth at my side. I try for I don’t know how long to go back to sleep and get some rest only to not be able to get any. I need to not feel alone and even though he’s close it’s still not close enough.
“Nico?” I murmur quietly not knowing if he would be able to hear me.
“Da, Dusha Moya?” he soothingly queries.
“I need you,” I beg.
“What do you need?” His accented words make my chest flame to life with a red-hot inferno burning deep in my sternum.
“I need you. Here with me,” I state, limply patting the bed beside me.
“I’m right here Dusha Moya, I need to know exactly what you need.”
“I know, but I need you to hold me so I can warm up,” I whimper.
Yes, I know I shouldn’t whine like this, it's not attractive to be needy. Right this very second, I don’t give a damn. I need this man to be close. The only time I’ve ever felt safe, or cared for, was after my kidnapping when we had our one and only night together. After everything that’s happened and the horrifying thoughts of everyone seeing my place and me like this I need comforting.
“Stop stressing. Everything is perfect as always. You are to rest, get better, and then wearegoing to talk about what happened here, and who the fuck is dying for what happened to you.”
“No dying, just rest, you silly man.”
Nico just growls, sliding in beside me fully clothed trying to keep a barrier between us. I’m done with the distance he’s put between us, so I roll closer to him, laying my head on his pec, sighing, feeling safe and warm in a way that I haven’t in such a long time.
“Sleep, Dusha Moya,” Nico murmurs and just as I give into the pull of sleep. As darkness wraps me in a comforting cocoon, I would put my life on the line and swear in a court of law that he kissed the top of my head. If only I was cognitive enough to bring it up. But Nico’s right, I need a healing sleep, so I let slumber take hold of me and fall into a deep oblivion where I’m protected from constant worrying.
