My jaw tightens instantly as my eyes snap to Ophelia’s.Drug run? What the fuck?
Rage flashes hot beneath my skin.
“Get your stuff,” I tell her, and she blinks.
“What?”
“You're coming with me,” I growl while Bianca watches us carefully from nearby before giving Ophelia’s hand a squeeze. “Text me tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. The word feels dangerous. Hopeful.She smiles at me, but I stop and grab her, pulling her into my arms and hugging her. She hiccups as I pull back and look at her.
“Let me take care of her, then you and I will talk. I always promised Jus to take care of you too, B,” I whisper, then place a kiss on her cheek.
“I know, Hayden. I know. Now fix my girl then come see me,” she says, kissing me back. I smirk then guide Ophelia outside towards my bike. I hand her my helmet and help her put it on but she swats my hand away, making me laugh.
“Did you hit your head? You know damn well I ride.” She laughs, and I slap her visor shut. She punches me in the gut and I fake a grunt, then climb on the bike as she scoots behind me. The second her arms wrap around my waist, my chest aches so badly I nearly can’t start the damn engine.
The ride to Daggerspoint is quiet, but every now and then, I feel her helmet press lightly between my shoulder blades like she’s making sure I’m real. And honestly? I get it.
We pull up to my apartment and I kill the engine. She climbs off and takes off my helmet, handing it to me. I get off and we walk up the stairs in silence.Why am I so nervous? It’s Ophelia.The girl I dream about at night. There is nothing to be nervous about.
We walk inside, and suddenly, my apartment feels too small, too rough around the edges for a girl like her. But, she looks around softly like she doesn’t care about any of it. Like she’d sleep in a cardboard box if it meant breathing the same air as me again.God. The thought of that alone nearly undoes me.
“This is where you live?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Not exactly the Ritz.”
Her eyes drift towards me. “I like it.”
I laugh. “You’re a terrible liar,” I say, and a tiny smile pulls at her mouth.Fragile. Tired but real. Worth everything though.And Christ, I missed that smile. Just seeing her standing here feels dangerously close to domestic. A future I probably shouldn’t want as badly as I do.
“Sit down,” I murmur, and she lowers herself carefully onto the couch while I grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. When I return, she watches me silently. Those big blue eyes completely wrecked. “Get undressed.” I say as her breath catches. Not from fear but something warmer—more dangerous.
“Hayden…”
“I need to check you for bruising,” I say, kneeling in front of her. “Make sure you don’t have internal bleeding.”
She studies me for a long second before finally nodding.
Slowly, she peels off her hoodie. Then her shirt. And fuck me, my pulse immediately turns traitorous. Not because I haven’t seen her body before. I have. Many times. But three years without touching her has turned every inch of her into torture.
The bruises ruin the moment fast though. Dark marks bloom across her ribs and shoulder. Her hip is already turning purple. Rage coils low in my stomach as I brush my fingertips lightly across one bruise making her hiss softly.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, and she rolls her eyes slightly.
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
That answer guts me more than it should.
I start cleaning the cut near her lip carefully while she watches me.
“You shouldn’t be doing this shit,” I mutter darkly, causing her expression to harden.
“Doing what?”
