NICCOLÒ

5. Untrustworthy

"...'she might have fancied too much.'" Cee finished, softly dog-earing the page to keep her place. "That's the end of the chapter, Dean, and I'm fairly sure it's all I have time for today. I'll be back again tomorrow, as always."

It was the end of her second week of reading to Dean. It made her feel far more at home. The various nurses were getting used to her, she knew all their names now. The two other men in the room were beginning to listen in now: Stefano and Anton, the twins.

Cee carefully slipped her hand into Dean's and squeezed. "Squeeze back if you can hear me," she whispered, like she always did, like clockwork. Nothing happened.

Cee sighed, beginning to pull her hand away when she felt a faint twitch. She jumped, looking towards Dean eagerly, but his eyes stayed closed and his hand stayed limp. She had imagined it.

"Oh, Miss Fiero, you're not leaving us hanging like that, are you?"

"I must, I'm afraid. I'll be back again," she smiled, walking over to squeeze Stefano's free hand. Stefano liked her a lot more than his twin.

The most important part of her reading was never the stories, although those were important to. It was the humanity of it; a caring voice, a touch, to people who had very little to hope for. Cee made a point of offering it to everyone, freely, when she read to Dean now.

"Bring another blanket, Miss, please?" he pleaded quietly, a spark in his eyes. Cee nodded, rolling her eyes. "You're a doll."

"Do you take requests, Miss Fiero?" Anton asked bitterly, trying to make her uncomfortable. "Playboy magazine, for example?"

"Once Pride and Prejudice is finished, I'll take requests - only," she warned, trying to stay polite as she poured Stefano another glass of water, "if they're classics. Dean likes classics."

"Don't tell me you'll be back after this bloody book is done." Cee turned to him, biting her lip. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his bandages still there, but no longer bloody. He'd been burnt - horrifically - down his right arm and leg. It was the only way she could tell the two apart.

"Lay off, Anton," Stefano retorted sharply. She didn't mind his attitude, he had a right to be angry; he still couldn't walk.

"We shouldn't be talking to her," Anton snapped, struggling up to a sitting position. Cee rushed to help him, helping him adjust the pillows behind his back. "Don't touch me!" She just rolled her eyes. Men, she thought. "She could be a spy."

"Water, anyone?" Cee asked brightly, changing the subject away from their suspicions. It reminded her far too much of their boss; she hadn't seen him recently, and she didn't plan to.

As she helped Stefan sip his water slowly, she heard the door open. "Just a second, Robin!" she called to the nurse, wiping the spills on Stefano's chin. He struggled with his everyday tasks now, with only one badly burned arm.

As Cee turned around, the jug of water and stack of plastic cups in her hand, she noticed the sudden silence. The sound of the jug shattering on the ground echoed around the room, and Cee faintly noticed that it was no longer in her hand.

She was slammed against the wall by her throat, the back of her head colliding painfully with the wall. A low hiss of pain erupted from her throat.

"Explain yourself," Romano snarled, his grip tightening on her neck. Cee met his hateful gaze with one of her best death-glares, struggling to remove his fingers from her throat.

"Get the fuck off me," she spat, digging her nails into the back of his hand, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"I won't ask again," he growled, shaking her roughly. "Talk, or you die." Cee felt his other hand gripping her waist tightly as he held her forcefully against the wall, his nose skimming against her cheek; her breathing hitched and she hated herself for it. He was too close, too much - the skin at her neck hurt, her lungs burning-