CHAPTER 12 #5
Ciara rushed to my side, her hands instantly gripping my arms, her eyes scanning my face with a desperate, consuming panic. “Joshua! Oh my God, Joshua, are you okay? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”
“I am perfectly fine, Ciara,” I said, my voice returning to its calm, soothing clinical tone, though internally, a violent, raging fire was burning through my veins. “I am entirely unharmed.”
“I am so, so sorry,” she whispered, tears of frustration and rage finally spilling over her thick eyelashes.
She buried her face against my chest, her body trembling.
“It’s my fault. It’s my pathetic, miserable past. I can’t believe he did that to you.
I can’t believe he brought a gun to your head. ”
“It’s all good, Ciara. It is absolutely not your fault,” I told her, wrapping my large arms around her, holding her tight against my chest while my eyes locked onto the dark pier where Morgan had vanished.
Internally, I was fuming with a cold, systematic fury.
No one points a weapon at my head and lives to brag about it.
No one threatens the pristine, controlled universe I have constructed.
Morgan had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
I didn't just want to defend myself anymore; I wanted to run my stencil knife across his throat, to feel his blood pulse over my fingers until his arrogant, useless eyes went entirely dark.
One of the police officers sprinted down the beach in the direction Morgan had run, his flashlight beam cutting through the dark dunes, but it was clear the coward had already escaped into the suburban grid. The second officer approached us, a heavy tactical belt jingling as he walked.
“Folks, what happened here? Someone reported a man with a firearm.”
Ciara stepped back from my chest, wiped her face with a fierce, angry motion, and completely unloaded.
She revealed everything she knew about Morgan—his name, his vehicle, his address, his past history of harassment, and exactly what he had just done on the sand.
The officer nodded grimly, writing the report down in his notepad with a heavy, serious expression.
An hour later, the legal formalities were finished, and we were back inside the quiet sanctuary of the Mark X.
The drive back to my place was silent, the heavy throb of the engine the only sound in the vehicle.
The playful, flirtatious vibe of the evening had been entirely crushed beneath the weight of violence.
Ciara gripped the steering wheel, her jaw tight, her eyes staring blankly at the dark highway ahead.
“I ruined it,” she whispered, her voice cracking with a deep, emotional exhaustion. “I wanted to take you out, to show you a good time, to thank you for how amazing you’ve been to me. And instead, I nearly got you killed. I’m so sorry, Joshua.”
I reached across the obsidian console, my large, warm hand wrapping firmly over hers, lifting it from the wheel and bringing it to my lips. I pressed a soft, sweet kiss against her knuckles, never breaking eye contact.
“No, you didn't ruin a single thing, Ciara,” I said, my voice rich with a genuine, deep-soul sincerity.
“I thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. The restaurant was magnificent, the food was spectacular, but most of all… I enjoyed your company. Singing with you in this car is a memory I will carry for a very long time. Do not let that coward steal that from us.”
She looked over at me, a soft, heartbroken smile touching her plum lips before her face hardened into something dark, something dangerous.
“I swear to God, Joshua,” she sighed, her voice dropping into a flat, murderous whisper.
“If the cops don’t catch his dusty ass this time, I’m gonna kill him myself.
I am so tired of his bullshit. I am so tired of him trying to ruin my life, trying to ruin the only good thing that’s happened to me in years. ”
I squeezed her hand tightly, my blue eyes catching the reflection of the passing streetlights, a cold, terrifying serenity settling over my mind.
“Don’t worry about Morgan, baby,” I murmured, my voice as smooth as velvet, as deceptive as a calm sea. “Let the authorities do their job. Let’s just focus on us. On this beautiful thing we are building together.”
“Okay,” she whispered, leaning her head against the headrest, completely comforted by the mask of the protector I wore for her.
But as the Mark X cruised down the empty highway toward my home, my mind left the car entirely.
I looked down at my hands resting on my lap. Morgan had made a fatal error in his calculations. He hadn't just threatened a doctor; he had threatened the peace I was creating with the only woman who made the monster inside me feel tame. He had threatened my property.
The police wouldn't find him. Because I would find him first.
Morgan’s name was no longer just an annoyance. He had just earned the absolute top spot on my lethal clinical ledger.
The game had officially evolved, and the doctor was ready to perform surgery.