When I reached the familiar, blindingly white hallway, I was startled to see everyone was already there. We all visited, of course, but rarely at the same time.
Venice was curled up in an armchair in the waiting area, her red hair tousled. She was half-asleep, her head resting on Zack’s shoulder, while the blond chugged from a bottle of Frappuccino. Half a dozen identical bottles littered the table next to him.
Parker was sprawled out on the couch, and for once, the playboy looked scruffy and unkempt, a five o’clock shadow darkening his sculpted chin. He was staring at the floor with a depressed look on his face. Beside him, even Adriana was as dressed down as I’d ever seen in her. She wore a T-shirt, jeans, and almost no makeup, and was staring off into space.
The person I couldn’t help but focus on, though, was Giselle. Roman’s mother, usually so elegant (even when she was drunk), was pacing the floor outside his room, her face pale and drawn, etched with lines of worry. I’ve never seen anyone so frazzled, and my heart went out to her.
Despite what Roman said, I knew she really loved him. He was, after all, her son.
Although the same couldn’t be said for his father. A sour taste crept into my mouth as I thought about Mr. Fiori. He’d made a brief appearance the night Roman was stabbed, then promptly flew to China for a business merger that was, apparently, more important than a comatose son.
“Any change?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice low. This was the type of environment where everyone spoke in whispers.
“No.” Parker sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I swear, if that fuckin’ James wasn’t in police custody, I would—“
“Parker.” Adriana’s tone was a warning, and I saw her flick her gaze towards Giselle, who looked even more distraught at the mention of the person who’d stabbed her son.
“Well, it’s true. I would’ve loved to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Parker muttered darkly. “If it wasn’t for him, Roman would be awake right now, and probably yelling at us for something.”
I cracked a small smile at that, as I felt Carlo come up behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders comfortingly. “Do you want to go in?” He tilted his head towards the closed door.
I swallowed. I did and I didn’t, but I couldn’t very well give him that answer. Instead, I just walked over, gave Giselle a comforting squeeze, and quietly opened the door to his private room.
Even though I’ve been here every day for the past week, the air still whooshed out of my lungs at the sight in front of me.
I walked over to the bed, my knees so shaky I probably would’ve collapsed were it not for Carlo’s firm grip on my arm. Tears blurred my vision as I stared down at the bed where Roman lay. His eyes were closed, his usually bronzed skin pale and waxy, and his chest rose and fell shallowly.
I’ve always thought of Roman as a larger-than-life person. Even when I hated him, his presence filled a room, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. I guess in my mind I always thought someone that arrogant and powerful was invincible. There had definitely been times when I wanted to cut him down to size, but now, I hated how frail and weak he looked in that hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and beeping monitors when he should’ve been out there in the real world, hanging out with his friends and laughing—or, in his case, scowling.
A sob escaped my throat as I grasped his hand in mine, squeezing it tight. Of course, he didn’t squeeze back. I hadn’t expected him to, but I crushing disappointment still filled my stomach at his lack of response.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, smoothing a lock of dark hair back from his forehead. “I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone out. I should’ve just stayed in my house, and then none of this would’ve happened, and we would’ve had our one-month anniversary, and you wouldn’t be—be—“ My throat closed up, and I was unable to finish as the tears fell down my cheek.
I held my breath, trying my best to quiet my sobs. I couldn’t get hysterical here, what with everyone outside the door. Besides, I didn’t need to make his mother any more worried.
But what if he never woke up? The thought sent chills through my body, and my heart spasmed painfully. I squeezed Roman’s hand tighter, like the action might keep my worst fears from coming true.
“Maya.”
I jumped at the unexpected sound of my voice, and when I turned, I could make out the tall, leather-jacketed shape through my tears.
Rico.
Even though he’d helped save me the other night, a shiver of apprehension snaked through me, especially when I realized Carlo wasn’t in the room anymore. Although I now knew James was more than a little psycho, I still couldn’t forget what he’d said about Rico raping his cousin.