Chapter 5 - Blood and Confessions
Adrien didn’t return for three days.
The two-week contract was almost over, but Lena wasn’t counting down the days anymore.
She paced the penthouse, watching the news. Unexplained fires at warehouses. Rival gang leaders found dead. The city was bleeding, and the man she was waiting for held the knife.
On the twelfth night, the private elevator chimed.
Lena ran to the foyer.
Adrien staggered out. He was alone.
He looked terrible. A jagged cut ran down his cheek, and he was holding his side, his breathing shallow.
“Adrien!”
She caught him just as his knees buckled.
He was heavy, but desperation gave her strength. She dragged him to the sofa in the living room.
“Call a doctor,” she panicked, reaching for his phone.
He grabbed her hand. “No doctors. Too many questions. The bullet went clean through the side. It just needs cleaning and stitching.”
“I’m a waitress, not a surgeon!”
“You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering. “Under the sink in the master bath. The black kit.”
Lena ran. She brought the kit back, her hands shaking as she cut away his ruined shirt.
She cleaned the wound. She stitched his flesh while he bit down on a leather belt, groaning low in his throat.
When it was over, she collapsed on the floor next to the sofa, weeping silently into her hands.
Adrien’s large, warm hand reached down, tangling in her hair.
“Don’t cry for me, Lena. I don’t deserve your tears.”
“You’re an idiot,” she sobbed, looking up at him. “You could have died.”
“I had to make sure they could never look in your direction again.”
He pulled her up from the floor, bringing her face inches from his.
“I told you I’d burn it down for you. I did.”
Then, he kissed her.
May you like
It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, bruising, and tasted of copper and whiskey.
Lena kissed him back with equal fire, letting the exhaustion and fear burn away in the heat of his touch.
