Chapter 34
“The stitches should dissolve within two weeks,” Dr. Myers says.
“Make sure to change the bandage after every shower, and keep the stitches as dry as possible. We wouldn’t want them getting infected, or worse.
” He pushes the waistband of my navy-blue sweats down a little so that it doesn’t press against the bandage, then clicks open his pen and starts writing something on a prescription paper.
“You can take Ibuprofen for the pain, but – and that’s a huge but – if the pain is too much to handle, here’s something stronger.
” He hands me the prescription, which I pass on to Solo, who is sitting in a chair next to my bed, with Jayce on his right.
Dr. Myers is a general practitioner at the Riverside County Hospital, and the only one me, Solo, and the crew call upon for medical assistance when we need it. He’s been a trusted ally of ours for years now, and his penchant for loyalty is nothing short of admirable.
He closes his bag and gets to his feet, and when Solo offers him a thick wad of cash, he accepts it eagerly. He then gives the three of us a quick nod, pockets the money, and deftly takes his leave.
“You feeling any pain right now?” Solo asks.
I’m lying in my bed, so I shift a little and turn my head so that I can look at him. The moon casts a faint shadow on the back of his head through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, and I can see the outside world on complete display for me – noiseless and paused for the night.
My loft is a simple yet thematic blend of comfort; completely wood-made and warm.
My sanctuary of sorts. There’s a living room, fireplace, and a kitchen, along with a small set of stairs that lead up to my bedroom – which is just as minimalistic.
It’s got floor-to-ceiling glass windows on the right – my favorite – a king size bed, an attached bathroom, and a fireplace with a TV right above it.
Like I said: simple yet comfortable.
“Nah, I’m good,” I tell Solo.
My wound feels kinda numb right now, thanks to the gel Dr. Myers injected into it before stitching it close. I also feel a little queasy, but he says it’s an aftermath of the shock I must have experienced after being stabbed.
When I drove Cignette to Finesse an hour ago, I was pretty close to passing out. Again: the shock of what happened was settling in, and it was paralyzing my nerves; making me feel light-headed.
It’s funny, though, because when it did happen, I didn’t think too much of it; just about getting out of Imperia before me and the crew were spotted. But I guess my brain triggered my body to act in a certain way, and now that everything is over and done with, shit is finally starting to affect me.
Dr. Myers was waiting for me and the crew by the time we reached Finesse, and the minutes that followed after Solo and Jayce carried me up to my loft, went by in a blur.
I stare at the wooden ceiling – an exact replica of the walls and flooring in my loft – and sigh.
To say that I’m lucky to have Solo and my crew in my life would be an understatement. There’s not much to be grateful for in my line of work, so the fact that I have an entire group of people by my side – one I consider family – is something I’ll never take for granted.
“You sure you don’t want an Ibuprofen or somethin’?” Jayce inquires.
I face him and shake my head. “All good here, don’t worry.” The air conditioner above my bed makes a muffled buzzing sound, and a wave of ice-cold air hits my naked chest and upper body, resulting in a sharp sting of pain to shoot through my fresh stitches.
“Can you turn this off, please?” I tell Jayce, and gesture at the AC. “Fucker’s making my side hurt.”
He does as I’ve asked, and when he settles back down next to Solo, the latter leans forward in his chair and gives me his full attention.
“You feel coherent enough to talk?” he asks me.
“For fuck’s sake, Solo, not now,” Jayce interjects. “You can do this later; let him rest tonight.”
Solo glares at him. “He was stabbed tonight, Jayce,” he hisses. “Fucking stabbed. Never, in the sixteen years of us working together, has something like this occurred. So no, I can’t do this later, because I need to know what the hell happened with Rizwana – right fucking now.”
“I–” I start, but Jayce cuts me in.
“It was my fault.”
“Jayce,” I say in warning. “Don’t.”
Solo glances between us, then focuses on Jayce. “Elaborate.”
Jayce tells him everything – from Cignette’s involvement to Alex killing Rizwana after she attacked me, and by the time he’s done, Solo’s expression holds something I can’t exactly put a name to.
“You involved Cignette into this…” he states rather than asks, and his voice is so icy that it puts even my air conditioner to shame.
“She wanted to help,” Jayce provides, at the same time I say, “You were taking way too long in getting Rizwana alone, and Cignette merely wanted to speed things up for us.”
Solo takes turns to properly shoot daggers at both Jayce and I, then runs a hand over his mouth before letting go of a frustrated breath.
“I want to strangle the two of you right now,” he begins, then shakes his head. “I wanna fucking blow your heads off.”
“Uh, I think I’ll pass on that offer, thanks,” I say, then yawn behind a hand. “I’ve spent way too much money on this loft, so I’d very much prefer not to stain it with blood and…brain particles.” My eyes droop for a moment, but I snap them open just as quickly.
Fuck, I’m tired.
Solo gives me a razor-sharp glare. “Don’t fuck with me right now.”
Jayce clears his throat, and when I glance at him, he shoots me a quick ‘What the fuck?’ look.
I sigh and click my tongue. “Look, Cignette was merely assisting,” I tell Solo. “And she did a damn good job of it.”
“So, what, she’s part of the crew now?” he hisses. “You want me to throw her a welcoming party or some shit?”
My nostrils flare, and I grit my teeth. “I didn’t mean th–”
“Of course you didn’t,” he spits at me. “Because you haven’t been thinking with your head since you got involved with her.
A fucking Adler, for Christ’s sake.” He rubs his jaw like it has personally offended him, then shakes his head again.
“Fucking her is one thing, but bringing her into this – into our work – that’s too much, Dor.
She’s a liability, at best, not to mention, our benefactor’s family. ”
“I thought we’d already established her importance, but if you want me to, I can readily jog your memory for you,” I tell him darkly.
“Besides, we don’t owe our choices to Chase; we haven’t been living off his goodwill.
For everything he does for us, we pay him back with the blood of his enemies. Him and us – we’re on equal footing.”
“Don’t sass with me,” he sneers. “You and I both know how merciless Chase is. We’ve killed people for all but nothing, just because he wanted us to kill them. Once you get on his bad side, you don’t fucking survive.”
“I think you’re underestimating our strength as a unit, Solo,” Jayce says. “I think we can take on the odds – whatever they might be.”
“And you think it’s always about strength and numbers with that guy?” Solo counters.
I narrow my eyes and assess him. His white shirt is stained with sweat, his hair is slightly messy, and his posture is somewhat stiff.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I deduce.
He laughs and leans back in his chair. “I’d be stupid not to be.”
“Why?” I ask plainly, because I’ve never considered equating the term fear with Solo. Ever.
“Because I don’t want to be put into a situation where I’m forced to do something I’d never want to do,” he admits, and his eyes darken.
“I’ll die before I’m pushed to that limit, but I’d much rather things don’t come to that.
” He’ll die before he lets Chase order him to kill me for what I’ve dared to do, is what he means.
“If it does come to that, you won’t have to be the one to end things,” I tell him. “You have my word, Solo.”
“Ledge, come on.” Jayce looks at me with an agonizing expression on his face. “Don’t fucking say that, man.”
“Don’t gimme the martyr speech, kid,” Solo says to me – his gaze pinned on mine. “For as long as I live, no one gets to touch any of you idiots. You’re family, and I protect those I care for.”
“God, you’re a sappy motherfucker, aren’t ya?” I muse, then pause, swallow, and incline my head at him. “But I appreciate it, though – everything you’ve done and continue to do. You know that, right?” My eyes droop again, and this time, it takes a bit more effort to pop them back open.
Solo chuckles. “You’ve already sworn to put me in the grave by being a reckless asshole, so I’m just validating the inevitable by offering myself up as sacrifice. In advance.”
Jayce chuckles. “I think I signed up for it before you did,” he tells Solo. “So get in line, man; I get the first place here.”
I laugh, but it morphs into a yawn. “Fuck the both of you,” I mutter, then yawn again. “Righteous little shits.”
There’s a knock on the door, followed by it opening partway into the threshold.
Cignette enters the room, and her gaze zeros in on me.
I run my eyes over her – over her soft pink hair that’s tied up in an untidy fashion, her face devoid of the makeup she had on earlier; the white Geralt of Rivia hoodie she’s wearing, and her exposed thighs and legs.
The need to pull her close and watch her gasp is strong, but so is the invisible force that’s keeping my ass rooted to my bed.
I meet Cignette’s stare and wink at her, and she smirks in response, making me grin.
“I think Jayce and I’ll take our leave,” Solo starts, and both him and Jayce get to their feet. “You two look about ready to fuck each other, and I definitely don’t wanna be here when that happens. Christ knows how much bleach I’ll need to wash that vision out.”
The rest of us laugh, and I flip Solo off as him and Jayce walk out of the loft.
The soft click of the door shutting behind them fills the air, and Cignette lets go of a tired breath before climbing into my bed. She props an elbow on the pillow next to mine, then lies down beside me – our feet bumping against each other’s.
She slides the fingers of one of her hands into my hair and starts massaging my scalp, while the fingers of her other hand daintily brush the white bandage that’s stuck to my left side. A haunted kind of look crosses her beautiful features, and her eyes darken further – as if she’s lost in thought.
“Hey,” I tell her, then cup her jaw to bring her close to me. “Hi.”
She blinks at me. “You have abs,” she says, pulling herself out of that momentary lapse.
A surprised laugh leaves me at her words. I pull my hand away from her jaw and place it under my head. “I thought it was a given that I’d have them.”
She meets my gaze again, and when I grin at her a second time, her eyes clear over. “Why is it a given?” she asks, then runs the pads of her fingers over every muscled indent of my abs.
“I mean… I’m hot, for one. And I own a Harley. And a garage. And let’s not forget that I’m a killer, which also makes me the most dangerous guy in all of Riverside. And I’ve got the personality of a–”
“Dick-deprived salamander.”
I choke on a laugh as I stare up at her, and she looks back at me with a plain expression on her face.
“Excuse me?”
“I said what I said,” she says matter-of-factly. “You were turning into a narcissistic version of Shakespeare; I had to put a stop to it.”
I chuckle. “Touché.”
She rolls her eyes, then frowns as she scans my face. “You look so tired,” she observes.
“I mean, I did get stabbed tonight,” I counter. “Also, you look so fucking sexy in that hoodie.”
She exhales in annoyance. “You’re such a…guy.”
“I know.” I yawn, and it’s so intense that it makes my vision a bit spotty.
“You need to rest, Dorran,” she says, then massages my scalp again. “Get some sleep.”
I hum. “Yeah…” The word comes out slurry, and it’s followed by yet another yawn.
“You need any meds?” she asks.
I shake my head.
She cups my jaw and presses a kiss on my lips.
I groan, and my cock shifts behind my sweats when I get a taste of her.
I hold her jaw in place and part her lips, then suck on her tongue before merging our mouths in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to breathe. But I don’t stop; I continue to kiss her. Because fuck, who needs air when I’ve got her gasping against me like this.
“Dor…” she whispers my name, then punctuates it with a soft kiss before moving back just slightly. “You need to sleep.” She nudges my nose with hers, then runs her knuckles over my cheek.
“Will you be here when I wake up?” I ask, and realize that it makes me appear vulnerable. It’s not like I care, though, simply because I’ve been nothing but transparent with Cignette since we started this – whatever this is between us.
She can take my memories, my weaknesses, and my strengths.
And, because I’m only human – however ruthless I can be during the times that call for it – I like to believe that I still have a lot of flaws.
Cignette can take them all, and I can carry hers, because we’re sides of the same coin; a combination of divergence and similarity, molded into sculptures of flesh and bone and blood.
Her face softens as she smiles at me. “Of course,” she answers easily. “I wouldn’t trade this position for anything.” She kisses me again.
I close my eyes and smile against her mouth.
Whoever says morally grey guys don’t appreciate tranquility and wholesome moments in their lives, is full of shit. Because I’m as grey as grey goes, and I’ve still got a boner as hard as a fucking brick from the brief cheese-talk Cignette and I just had.
It’s all about enjoying the moment and calming your inner demons – albeit temporarily – and mine drift away without hesitation when Cignette takes over my mind. Deep shit, right?
Yeah, I think so too.