I turned to the wing mirror and winced at my reflection. “Oh… no…” My forehead was swollen, a deep purple-red, and I was sure it was going to bulge soon.
No wonder it hurt so much.
I winced again as Zioh’s fingers brushed the bruising around my brow. He guided my head back towards him, his piercing gaze locking on mine. “What happened?” he asked, his voice like a blade.
I stared at him in silence.
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. How would he react? Would he be angry? Lose control again? Be hurt again? I didn’t know. Everything I did felt so wrong to the people around me…
Shaking my head, I swallowed. “I fell, Zi, it’s okay,” I lied through my teeth.
Zioh fell silent, staring deeper. His voice dropped, colder. “What happened?” he repeated, his eyes dark enough to drown me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, hesitating. Zioh blew out a harsh breath before me, his jaw locked. Closing his eyes for a moment, he blew the air out once more andlooked at me again—deeply, searching. “Tshabina, why are you hurt?” His tone was low, almost as if it wasn’t a question, as if he already knew and wanted me to speak.
To be honest with him.
But again, I shook my head, biting my lip. “I fell, Zi, by accident,” I repeated. “But it’s okay. I’m fine.”
How could I tell him? His reaction to Cindy that night had been so bad.
Zioh stayed silent at my answer, watching me long enough that I could hear my erratic heartbeat. Then he shifted his gaze, inspecting me—my face, neck, arms, body, legs, as though making sure there were no other injuries.
When he found nothing, he looked back at me, calmer now. “Then why did you come?”
“Because I’m fine,” I replied in a forced low voice.
His voice went hoarse. “Are you sure?” His questioning made me want to give up and tell the truth this time. His scrutiny felt like it stripped me bare. When I stayed silent, he asked again, in a lower voice.“Are you sure you’re fine?”
I exhaled, smiling faintly, and nodding.
Please, drop it, Zi…
And he did, as if he’d heard my unspoken plea.
He nodded, sighing. His eyes softened. “Come on inside, we’ll put a new compress on it,” he said, taking my bag and my gear bag. He slid a hand to my waist to guide me, but when I stopped, he turned, understanding instantly.
I reached for my bag, but he kept it at a distance. “Let me carry it,” he murmured.
I shook my head until he finally handed me my bag, but kept the other. “Just this one,” he said without waiting for my answer.
Zioh walked ahead, and I followed him to the lift nearby. At each stop, people stepped in, greeting him, and he shifted closer to me as more entered. We stepped out into his workspace when we reached the top floor.
“Sit down on the sofa,” he said as he pulled out his phone to type something and handed me my gear bag. I nodded and strolled to the sofa, setting my bags down. I lay back, opening my gear bag to take out my camera and tripod.
Glancing up, I found Zioh still at his phone, standing in front of the massive window behind his desk, utterly focused on sending a text, perhaps.
My gaze lingered on him. Zioh was beautiful, a kind of beauty you never grew tired of. But something dark was creeping in, trying to dim the light, and I wanted to blow the clouds away so his sun could shine again. Helping him defeat the villain so he could finally spread his wings once more.I want my hero back.
After a few minutes, a knock came at the door. Zioh strode over, opening it halfway as if expecting someone. I couldn’t see who it was, but he took a tote bag from them and shut the door.
He turned back and walked to me, making me watch him in silence.
When he reached me, he suddenly knelt. Startled, I edged back, gripping the leather beneath me. His hands rose to hold my legs still. “Stay still for me,” he coaxed, making me freeze.
I lowered my gaze as he unpacked the tote bag, which contained gauze, betadine, ointment, and a compress kit.
I was certain it had come from Natasha.
