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I hated her at that moment, I truly did. But despite myself, she still arose protective instincts in me. Force a habit, I guess. It felt wrong not to protect her when it was all I ever did for such a long period of my life. So, I pushed my anger at her to the side, and allowed myself to succumb to my instincts.
"Adrik, she's not well. She needs help. Please, don't do anything on her," I murmured, his raging glare shifting from her to me. Pleadingly, I locked eyes with him. "I know what she did was despicable. I know she's not a good human being. I know she caused us immense pain," I gulped down my anger at her before continuing, "You have every right to be furious, but find it in yourself to spare her. She's not in her right mind."
I gauged my husband's reaction, fully aware of the tempest brewing within him. His teeth ground together, an aura of lethal energy enveloping him.
"How can you say that with blood running down your face from her, wife?" His breath heavy on my face as he spoke. His hand reached to gently caress my bloody cheek, his touch offering an odd respite amid the charged atmosphere. "She separated us for months," he growled, his fingers tracing the marks of her violence. "She hurt you, damaged the skin that I fear simple air touching."
"I could've lost you because of her," he gritted out, the words dripping with raw pain. I shut my eyes for a minute, not wanting to witness the torment etched onto his face. As I pulled him into a tight embrace, something felt amiss – a subtle restraint in his reciprocation.
"I love you so damn much, and I'm here. Alive and well. Please, Adrik, please. Let's get her the help she needs and cut ties. Never see or talk to her again," I begged.
His ruggedly handsome face contorted with a struggle, an unspoken tension emanating from the depths of his being. "Milaya, I'd hand over whatever the hell you want, no questions, and no hesitations. Even if it goes against my better judgment," he gruffly declared.
His words sparked an elated grin on my face, stretching so wide that it bordered on pain. My bloodied lips planted kisses on his face, a feral display of affection, uncaring to the audience of his men, who watched us with a mesmerized fixation. The sheer joy of him openly showing and accepting affection, regardless of the onlookers, fueled my happiness.
His hand casually patted my back, and he inclined his head toward the man holding my sister, conveying a message known only to them. The man nodded and led my unresponsive sister out of the basement. In the background, the hum of an engine roared to life, accompanied by the screech of tires against the concrete floor.
"Where is he taking her?" I demanded with a hint of desperation. I tried pushing my fears down, fully aware that he never broke his vows to me.
"Somewhere she can get the help she needs," he growled out, his response carrying his disapproval. He guided my trembling form to sit on the chair in the dimly lit basement. With a crookof his fingers, one of the men carrying a briefcase moved closer, crouching in front of me.
"Too close," Adrik barked, his possessiveness flaring up, the air felt zapping. The man shot Adrik a glance tinged with slight fear. "I have to get close to her to check her state, sir," he explained, his voice shaky.
With a reluctant nod, Adrik agreed but not without asserting his ownership. He lifted me off the chair, settled down, and then placed me on his lap.
"Out," he commanded. The rest of the men in the room filed out, leaving us alone.
Who I assumed was a doctor started his examination, his clinical demeanor failing to conceal a flicker of unease. His hands probed my head, delving too deep, seeking signs of a concussion. Adrik's eyes, bore into the examination, his jaw clenching subtly as he focused on the movements of his hands.
Redirecting his attention to my battered nose, the doctor inquired about pain. I winced, my gaze going to Adrik as I told the doctor that it hurt a lot. His posture stiffened at my words and he became even more agitated as the doctor asked me to take off my coat, noticing me holding my arm in pain.
The doctor was visibly on edge. His hands trembled imperceptibly, and his gaze darted nervously between Adrik and me, fear etched in the subtlest of movements.
I rolled up the sleeves of my sweater so the doctor could see my arm. Adrik's fingers, though not gripping, traced a subtle rhythm on my shoulder—a pattern only I could feel. It was comforting having him so near, especially after thinking I was going to lose him or never see him again.
With a measured tone, the doctor delivered his diagnosis, "There seems to be nothing serious. Your arm and nose, are just bruised up. They should heal in a week."
The doctor, still uneasy under Adrik's watchful eyes, took cautious steps backward away from me. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain composure as he addressed Adrik.
"Sir," he began, choosing his words carefully, "She needs rest, both physically and mentally. If any unusual symptom arises, like dizziness or drowsiness, call me so we can take her to a hospital."
Adrik nodded in gratitude, and the doctor hastily made his exit, leaving an awkward silence in his wake. Despite the gravity of the situation, a spontaneous burst of laughter escaped me. "You scared the poor doctor away," I quipped to Adrik, trying to introduce a moment of lightness.
He responded with a hum, not engaging in my playful banter. He carried me out of the basement into the welcome embrace of fresh air. Placed gently in the car, Adrik helped me sip water as we drove away, the rearview mirror revealing a couple of his men trailing us.
In the quiet of the car, I couldn't ignore the noticeable shift in Adrik's demeanor. His usually intense gaze appeared distant, as if lost in his thoughts. It unsettled me, prompting a need for connection. I was going to get my Adrik back, I won’t let anything, even his own thoughts, pull him away from me.
Chapter 15
Adrik
?During the entire car ride, Luna tried to get me to talk. She'd touch my arm, make comments about random crap on the road, and even try to comfort me. But I couldn't bring myself to look at her, let alone touch her. After what went down, I felt like if I so much as breathed in her direction, she'd vanish. Maybe we didn't come out of this without scars; maybe she was just a figment of my imagination, waiting to disappear if I dared to reach out to her.
My hands were shaking, and my heart was racing like it had a mind of its own. The silence between us was heavy, suffocating. Luna's attempts at conversation felt like pathetic attempts to bridge a gap that had opened up between us by the shit we'd just been through.
I couldn't shake the image of Elena's twisted face, the gun in her hand, the crazy look in her eyes. It was burned into my mind like a brand, refusing to fade. And Luna, sitting next to me, oblivious to the storm inside me, was making me pissed.
Furious. That's what coursed through my veins like molten lava. I couldn't pinpoint the exact source of my rage—whether it was the godforsaken situation we found ourselves in or her actions. She stood there, defiantly, with the barrel of that damned gun pressed against her own skull, shielding me from Elena.
