I drag her on my lap, and she squeals. “It’s because I have you.”
She slaps my chest. “Oh, stop being so melodramatic.”
“What? We should talk about all of this.”
“About what?”
“This. What happened. Us. All of it.” I wrap my arms around her.
“Okay.” She shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”
“I don’t know. I just wanna know if you’re still mad at me.”
She sighs and rubs her lips. “No … I don’t think I’m mad at you. I guess everything just finally clicked into place. But you did good, saving us. You were doing the right thing.”
“You think?” I say.
“Yeah, I mean, I get why you were so upset … you know, with the lamp throwing and the knifed chair.”
“Yeah …” I don’t wanna think about it because I feel ashamed for doing it in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” she suddenly says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears.
“About what?”
“Well … I was kind of a bitch to you while trying to escape your house to get to my sister. I basically used you.”
“It’s okay …” I smile. “I get why you did it. It’s my fault for making you do that in the first place. Just promise me you’ll be less bitchy from now on.”
She laughs. “I promise.”
“And you did mean it when you said you loved me, right?” I wink.
“Yeah.” She grins. “That part was never a lie.”
“Good.” I nod. “Water under the bridge.” I hold out my hand.
“Agreed.” She shakes my hand.
It’s quiet between us, but after some time, she breaks the silence. “You knew it was me all along, didn’t you? You knew I was one of the girls you saved when you saw my tattoo.”
“Yes …” I say. “Does it make you upset?”
“No … but that means you’re that man from my memories. Wow.”
There’s a pause, and I get the feeling I should ask something.
“Do you hate me for saving you?” I ask.
“What?” She frowns.
“Because I did. Every day when I looked in the mirror and saw the consequences of my actions.”
“You got the scars because of me.” She tenses up in my lap, but my hand snakes around her stomach and I pull her closer. I don’t care that it hurts; I want her near me so I can make myself forget about the past and focus on what I have with her … so I can live at the moment.
“I was so angry … until I finally met you again.”
She glances at me over her shoulder, the look on her face hopeful. Happy.
“You made me see myself in a different light. You weren’t scared of me, not like all those other people. You were so strong, so unlike what I thought you’d be. You were everything I wanted and still do. You’re exactly what I couldn’t have, yet you stuck with me.”
“Hmm … And I even fell in love with you,” she murmurs.
“What?” I mutter, thinking I heard myself talking. “What’d you say?”
She turns around in my lap and leans forward. “I love you.”
I smile and bite my lip, then grab her face and press her forehead against mine. “Say it again,” I whisper.
“I love you.”
“Do you mean it?”
“I’ve never said these words, so yeah …”
Never said the words … yet she said them to me.
My lips hover in front of hers right when Winston scurries back into the room. “Time for the stitches.”
The moment is gone, as Alexis slides off my lap and makes room for the old man. I can’t help but growl at him for interrupting our kiss.
“Want me to stitch you?” he says. “Then shut up and stay still.”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Good. I like that. You can call me Sir.”
“Stan,” I add, but then he punctures my skin with the needle. “Fuck!”
“Don’t mess with gramps.”
Alexis hides her giggle behind her hand.
“Second time I’m being stitched in just weeks.”
“Maybe you should get yourself into less trouble then,” he muses.
“Yeah, well at least he’s gone now.” I point at the body behind us.
“About that …” Alexis says. “What are we gonna do with all these corpses?”
“Oh, that’s simple.” Winston cuts the thread.
“Simple?” I frown.
“Yeah. Remember the number Marcus gave you? The number he calls the ‘shit-hits-the-fan’ number? That one.”
“Oooh …” I nod. “Right. Can you do it?”