ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 105: Thoughts

Chapter 105: Thoughts
Chapter 105
ROMEO’S POV
The wheelchair sat in front of me like an insult.
"I don’t need that," I snapped, gripping the bedframe as I pushed myself upright. Pain knifed through my abdomen, sharp enough to blur my vision.
But I forced my jaw to stay locked. "I can walk with the damn crutches. I’m not being rolled around like some old hag."
"Well this old hag life isn’t on the line!" my dear nonna shots and I barely acknowledged her response as Antonio muttered, sounding far too exhausted to be dealing with me.
"You can barely stand." His sling dug into his shoulder as he tried — and failed,by the way— to cross his arms. "Sit down before you open those stitches again."
"I said I can walk."
"And I said you’re using the wheelchair," he exclaimed back. "So sit your stubborn ass down." well damn, who does these people think they are to be ordering me around.
Just because I was shot? or because according to them I had been unconscious for about a month and half?
Nonna, from her chair beside the bed, clucked her tongue. "Boys who argue are boys who end up on the floor bleeding. Romeo, sit. Antonio, breathe. Dio santo."
I glared at both of them, furious, but the truth was my legs were trembling. Not that I’d admit it. My body felt wrong — too light, too hollow, too weak.
Weak.
I hated it.
Antonio stepped forward, bracing the side of the bed with one hand. "Come on. I’ll help."
"I don’t need—"
"You do." His voice cracked slightly. "Just... please don’t make this harder."
Huh? what the fuck? The word sounded strange from him than I expected. He looked worn down, grief and stress carved into every line of his face. Antonio rarely plead for anything.
So with a frustrated growl, I shut up and let him guide me. It was messy, slow, painful. His one good arm strained to support me, and my breath hissed out between clenched teeth as I lowered into the chair.
The bandages pulled tight across my abdomen, fire shooting through my ribs and I regretted letting a one arm old man help me.
Nonna, the ever praying woman murmured a prayer under her breath as finally got comfortable into the wheelchair.
Antonio reached over to the nightstand and picked up something. "Here," he said quietly bringing the stuff to my face and I saw a black slick mask.
My mask
! I snatched it with my strong hand, holding it like my life depended on it. I had forgotten that my scars were exposed but it was my old hag and old man’s presence that made me feel safe enough to not even care about my face.
Without a word, I pulled it over my face. It settled into place with a familiar click, the cool material pressing gently against my skin. My pulse steadied as the world dimmed behind the dark mask.
I wasn’t presentable, but behind
my
mask... I was untouchable.
"Ready?" Antonio asked.
No.
Not even close.
"Just move old man." I muttered and he chuckled but before he could wheel me forward.
The door opened, and everything in me froze.
Literally. I don’t even know why but looking at her face after so long was.....I couldn’t even describe the feeling.
Katya stood there.
For a second, I genuinely thought I was hallucinating again. My breath punched out of me, sharp and painful, like someone had just slammed a fist into my ribs.
She looked... real. Standing in the doorway with wide eyes and messy hair, her hand still on the handle like she hadn’t meant to open the door all the way.
What.
The.
Fuck.
My first instinct wasn’t anger,, or hatred like usually, or even shock.
It was panic.
Is the mask on right? Is it straight? Did the strap slip? Can she see anything? Shit, shit, shit—
I resisted the urge to touch my mask to check. That would only draw attention to it.
My heart hammered so hard it made the wheelchair vibrate. Memories slammed into me—her immobile body, the gunshot, me stupidly throwing my body over hers, blood on my hands, the world going black.
All of that stupidity that landed me here. Pathetic. A mess being rolled around by an old man with one functioning arm.
Great. Perfect timing, universe. Truly.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath, because of course she’d walk in the exact second I was sitting helpless in a chair.
Katya blinked, startled like she had not expected to see me. Well kitten, I’m alive. She stood there as if her soul her left her before her eyes darted to Antonio like she’d walked into the wrong room.
Antonio, however, did not give a single damn about my existential crisis.
"Move," he barked and the harshness in his tone snapped through the air like a whip.
I almost snapped my head to the back to check if it was still Antonio behind me because how could that be the sweet, over-polite, perpetually patient Antonio?
The girl stumbled back with raised brows, shocked into silence. Even I was. Antonio didn’t look at her as he wheeled me out the room and past her.
A sigh left my lips as I breathed out.
Except breathing didn’t help.
My mind was already tearing itself apart.
Antonio’s harshness.
That girl’s face.
The wheelchair under me.
The mask on my skin.
All of it collided until my thoughts were a mess of static.
Why the hell had Antonio snapped like that?
Then I remembered.
His words, month’s ago—before everything went to shit.
"You’re getting obsessed with her, Romeo."
"She’s getting to your head"
"Dont make her innocent face fool you."
"She’s the daughter of our enemy—don’t forget that."
Maybe that’s why he barked at her like she was poisonous.
And maybe that’s why I felt like an idiot for freezing in front of our enemy’s daughter like some newly shifted pup seeing the other gender for the first time.
I scrubbed a shaky hand through my hair, fingers dragging too hard. The repetitive scratching dug into my scalp, but it was either that or start ripping the damn mask off because my thoughts were getting too loud.
Why was I behaving like a fool?
Right.
Because if I hadn’t shielded her that day—
If I hadn’t thrown myself over her—
If I hadn’t taken the bullet—
She would’ve died.
From her own father’s and I reacted without thinking.
Her bastard father didn’t want to fucking die after so much torture I did to him. I should have just shoot his skull out and nothing of this should have happened.
My chest tightened painfully. The headache that had been humming at the back of my skull now throbbed, mean and insistent.
Antonio must’ve seen the twitch in my jaw, or the way my fingers kept clawing at my hair.
"Get those thoughts out of your head," he muttered.
I snapped my gaze up.
How the hell did this old man know what I was thinking?
"Mind your business," I hissed.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t soften.
"Your business is mine too."
I scoffed, shaking my head, even though the movement made the pounding worse.
Of course he’d say that. Of course he’d act like he wasn’t two seconds from collapsing himself. Which I take full fault by the way for throwing a knife at him.
My vision pulsed at the edges.
Katya’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. What kind of drugs were given to me when I was in that coma?
She didn’t look shaken this time. Not like before—when she’d trembled, stuttered, avoided eye contact.
She looked... steadier.
More grounded. Calmer.
It irritated the hell out of me.
I remembered her weak. Breakable.
A trembling little thing I could shatter with a single look.
And I hated how much I wanted that version back. Was I a bad person for thinking that I was satisfied with the version that wasn’t standing straight and breathing fine while I was sitting here—
broken, bandaged, weak.
Well my headache sharpened again, slicing behind my eyes, answering my questions with pain that truly I was a monster.
But at least now she looked much healthier, not that skinny boneless girl I last saw.
Still...
that bothered me too.
Why did she look fine?
Why did she look like she’d slept?
Like she’d eaten?
Like her lungs weren’t collapsing every time someone raised their voice?
Why the fuck did that scratch something ugly inside me?
The pounding behind my eyes intensified. My fingertips hovered near my scalp again, ready to tear into the skin just to quiet the noise.
I dragged my hand down instead, curling it into a fist on my thigh. I think,I really needed to get these thoughts out of my head.
All of them.
Before they drove me insane.
††
Soooooo, guys I wanna say thanks to ReadingTaiga, Karla, saywhat18, Ross beak, loving Connie’s, flovir, username123...., eveej, and so many more beautiful and amazing people who still supports my book.
You guys are the one helping me through this times.