Chapter 237: If Begging Is What You Desire
(SASHA)
I have a hazy sensation of being half-carried, half-dragged back up the stairs by my uncle on one side and Tyler on the other, neither of them saying a word, just breathing heavily until they get me back into bed.
Marco is the first one to speak when I open my eyes again and take in the two of them. "Sasha, Sasha, Sasha." he mutters, shaking his head.
Even under the ravages of time and scars, his face bears the same expression it always used to when he cleaned up after me. He spent his whole life doing it, right up until he was ordered him out of the city, and he’s still just as disappointed in me. Just as worried.
I want to apologize, but my agony is too intense to do anything except lie there and outlast it.
Marco murmurs something to Tyler and leaves the room. Tyler comes over to sit on the bed next to me. I lie there for a long time until the tide of torment recedes, until I can grope across the bed for Tyler’s hand. He lets me take it.
"Are you alright?" he asks in a low, steady voice.
"Yeah." My voice is a croak.
"Okay. Marco’s going to call Darla over here to check on you. In the meantime, you can explain to me, your long-suffering husband, what the actual fuck you thought you were doing, prancing down the stairs like that on your own?"
His voice gets louder and louder until he’s just a decibel or two under shouting, and he goes on.
I stay quiet and let him chew me out, not that I have much say in the matter. I’m still woozy from the pills I took after I heard voices from downstairs and realized who was at the door. They knocked off the edge of my pain long enough to drag myself up, pull on a robe, and act as though I was fine while I walked down those stairs.