Leaving them to their own devices, I walk over to Nikko before Ispy the body of the man who spoke. He seemed to be in charge. Really, I should have left him alive, but he was annoying.
My shoulder tugs as I crouch, the pain making me grit my teeth.
Holding my aching shoulder, I lean over and find what I’m lookingfor, then I pocket it while no one else is looking before I stand and hold out my good hand to Nikko.
“Come on, baby, let’s go home.”
FORTY-FIVE
Iride with Zia in the car, his men taking care of my bike since I didn’t want to leave him. We head to my place since it’s the closest, and he dismisses his men as he opens my door and steps inside. I follow silently, still shocked.
Zia strolls into my living room, ripping off his shirt as he goes and taking a seat on my sofa, peering down at his shoulder. The sight makes me gulp. There’s a distinct hole, and it must be agony.
I panic as I stop in front of him. “You need a hospital.”
“No, too many questions. Don’t worry, it isn’t the first bullet wound I’ve patched up. I might need your help, though, since it’s in an awkward place.” He looks at me and sighs when he gets a good look at my face. “I can call Yuki?—”
“No. I can help. Tell me what to do.” I grab my kit. It’s extensive, thanks to my father and my job. Zia captures my hands, kissing them before pressing them to his beautiful, bloodstained face.
I should be horrified. I saw him kill a lot of people tonight, but when his eyes open and lock on me, I find I don’t care. He had his reasons, and I’m not scared or disgusted, just worried for him. “I know you have questions. I’ll answer, I promise, just not right now.”He winces. “It hurts,” he admits, and I know that must cost him. He isn’t the type to admit when he’s in pain.
“Punch me,” I say. “It will help get rid of the pain.”
He chuckles. “What? How?”
“Well, because when you hurt somewhere else, you don’t think about the other pain. I can’t bear for you to hurt yourself, but it might help if you hurt me,” I explain.
“Nikko, I’m not punching you,” he scoffs.
“Baby, I’m a boxer going for a world title. You can’t hurt me. Punch me. Go on. Punch me—” I fall back under the unexpected force.
My ears ring for a minute as I sprawl on the floor, nearly knocked out. I know he pulled his punch, and he still almost flattened me.
Blinking rapidly, I sit up and give him a thumbs-up. “Good job, baby. Did it help?” I massage my jaw where he caught me.
“You’re an idiot.” He laughs.
“And you’re adorable.” I move my jaw to try and ease the ache. “You could be a boxer,” I grumble as I crouch before him again. “Okay, tell me what to do.”
He directs me, and I disinfect the wound before stopping the bleeding. When he’s happy with it, we dress and wrap it since he thinks it will heal on its own, then he leans back.
Heading to the kitchen, I grab what I need then go to the bathroom. After putting my supplies down, I hand him some water and ibuprofen before changing my mind. I put the pills in my mouth and press my lips to his, forcing them into his mouth before gulping some water, pressing my mouth to his again, and making him drink it. I dip the towel into the bowl I brought and begin to clean his beautiful face.
“You haven’t asked,” he murmurs despite his earlier words.
“You’ll tell me when you want to.” I shrug. I should have trusted him, but I’m glad I was there tonight anyway, even if I wasn’t much help. Faiz is partially right. I couldn’t keep him safe tonight, but he doesn’t need me to. He can protect himself.
“We set a trap to lure whoever is after me. I’m tired of waiting. It backfired, and I got nothing.” He sighs. “But it means I know they are getting desperate and sloppy. It won’t be long before they slip up.”
“Does this happen a lot?” I ask as I wring out the towel, turning the water red.
“Not usually to this extent. We sometimes deal with assassination attempts or underhanded business transactions, but my name tends to keep them all at bay. This is different, it feels personal, but I don’t know why.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I encourage as I drop the towel and grab the second one, carefully drying his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He watches me, biting his lip. “Thank you for staying.”
I won’t even dignify that with a response. As if I would ever leave him. I have a feeling Zia could do anything and I would still stay.
