Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Little deer.”
A frown line forms between my eyes. “Why?”
“Because you’re skittish like one.”
My lips threaten to smile, but another popping sound has me cringing, and the fear is pushed back to the foreground.
“I have a name for you, too,” I admit with a shaky voice. There’s no hiding my anxiety and horror, but talking to him is helping me not to have a total breakdown.
He pushes his hand beneath my head, and lifting it, he places his rolled-up jacket under me so I can use it as a pillow. Gently, as if he’s afraid I’ll break, he lies me back down.
“What?” he asks, as he lies down beside me, resting his head on his arm.
“Mio principe.”
His eyes lock with mine. “You think I’m a prince?”
“I know it sounds stupid.” It takes another second before I realize. “Wait. You speak Italian?”
He nods.
With my mind still foggy, I only now think to ask, “Did you get hurt?”
He shakes his head. “Just a couple of bumps and bruises.”
I believe him because he hasn’t shown any signs that he’s in pain.
As if he remembers something, he leans closer, and lifting my head, his fingers inspect the back.
“My head is fine,” I assure him so he won’t worry.
His eyes find mine again. “Do you have pain anywhere else?”
Deciding it’s best that I’m honest, I admit, “My chest. It hurts when I breathe.”
He lowers a hand to my ribs and checks my chest.
Glancing down, I see there’s nothing left of my Dolce and Gabbana sequined crop top. At least my black bra covers my breasts and I didn’t lose that as well during the fall.
“You could have broken ribs.” He brings his attention back to my face. “Tell me the moment it gets difficult to breathe.”
I nod. “It just hurts, but I can breathe.”
He surprises me by wrapping a hand around the side of my head and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Even though it feels like hours have passed, it’s probably only been ten minutes.
My mind clears a little, but it’s instantly bombarded with new worries. “My friend!”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he says.
Abbie was with his friend. Hopefully, they’re together.
Maybe they even managed to get out before the building collapsed.
God, I hope so. She’ll call for help.
“What do you think happened?” I ask.
“An explosion.”
My eyes widen at him. “Like a bomb?”
When he nods, my body grows heavy with fear.
Was it an attempt to kill Abbie and me?
Crap, if I survive this ordeal, my parents will probably kill me.
Carefully he pushes his arm beneath my neck. I try to shift closer to him, and when his arms are wrapped around me and my temple is pressed to his warm chest, I close my eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he warns me.
“Okay.” Opening my eyes, I stare at the defined ridges of his abs. “Do you work out?”
“Yes.”
I let out a humorless chuckle that makes tiny flames of pain lick at my ribcage. I wait for the pain to pass, then murmur, “I hate exercise. I don’t like sweating.”
“Mmh…” The rumble comes from deep in his chest. “Are you going to tell me all your secrets?”
I glance at the broken concrete, and a relentless hopelessness settles heavily in my heart. “I might as well tell one person before I die.”
He presses his lips to my hair, then murmurs, “I promise you won’t die. Not on my watch.”
Tilting my head back, I look deep into his eyes, the flashing red light breaking our connection every couple of seconds.
I don’t know his name, and honestly, I prefer it that way. Not knowing who he is makes everything easier somehow.
I’ll be his little deer, and he can be my prince because weaving a fantasy in the middle of all the horror makes me believe we’ll get out of this alive.
Because let’s face it, the bitter reality is that we can both die here tonight, and I can’t deal with the terrible fact.
So, instead of facing the harsh truth, I latch onto the fantasy.
My prince is strong, and he’ll keep me from dying.
Chapter 4
Misha
As the minutes mercilessly crawl by with no sign of help in sight, my worry increases until it feels like it will gnaw its way right through my chest.
My little deer is slowly bleeding to death, and I can hear her strength fading in her voice. I’m also sure she has broken ribs, if not internal injuries, as well.
As hard as I tried to shield her during the fall, I couldn’t do shit to keep the pieces of concrete from tearing her up. I felt her body take the blow when the metal rod stabbed her, ripping her top off in the process.
Even though I took one hell of a blow to my back, and I know I’ve broken a couple of ribs, I ignore the pain and focus on my little deer.