But there was no time for distractions.The inn needed my attention, and there were guests who counted on me to make their holiday special.
For now, I'd push thoughts of Christian aside and concentrate on keeping this place running smoothly—lights that needed fixing included.
Chapter3
Christian
The sounds of gunfire echoed in my mind, a relentless barrage of noise that never seemed to end.I found myself back in that godforsaken place, the humid air thick with the stench of sweat and fear.A sprawling mall in the heart of Hong Kong.The architecture felt oppressive, trapping us in a concrete maze.
I could see the civilians' terrified faces, hear their muffled cries as they tried to hide behind overturned tables and shattered glass displays.My pulse pounded in my ears, matching the rapid fire of automatic weapons.Every shadow seemed to conceal a threat, every corner held potential death.
We moved in formation, my team and I, clearing room after room.The air hung heavy with tension.My rifle felt like an extension of my body, each movement precise, calculated.We were trained for this, born for this chaos.
Suddenly, an explosion rocked the building, sending shards of glass raining down like lethal confetti.The shockwave threw me off balance, and I hit the ground hard.Dust filled my lungs as I struggled to regain my bearings.
“Christian!Get up!”a voice barked over the comms, urgent and edged with desperation.
I pushed myself to my feet, shaking off the disorientation.Through the haze, I saw them—a group of hostages huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling.And then I saw him—the lead gunman—an all-too-familiar face etched into my memory.
He sneered at me, his eyes cold and devoid of humanity.He raised his weapon, and time seemed to slow.I aimed and fired, but it was too late.A bullet tore through my shoulder, a searing pain that nearly brought me to my knees.
I grunted, but the sound barely escaped my lips before darkness enveloped me.
I jolted awake, heart hammering against my ribs like it wanted out.The room was dimly lit by the early morning light filtering through thin curtains.Sweat drenched my sheets; I felt like I’d been dragged through hell and back.
Breathing heavily, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed my temples.The nightmare clung to me like a second skin, its images refusing to fade away.The silence of the room felt suffocating after the cacophony of gunfire and screams.
I stood up and paced around the small space, trying to shake off the lingering dread.Each step felt heavy as if wading through molasses.Outside, birds chirped obliviously—and here I thought they all flew south for the weather.
But no matter how hard I tried to escape it or how far I ran from it in waking hours—the nightmare always found its way back to me.
My stomach rumbled.I couldn't remember the last time I ate—hours?A day or two?The lines blurred when nightmares claimed the night and exhaustion claimed the day.
I grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor, pulling them on with practiced efficiency.A plain black t-shirt followed, its cotton fabric a familiar comfort against my skin.I laced up my boots, each movement deliberate.I needed breakfast—needed to remind myself I was still alive, still here.
The stairs creaked under my weight as I descended, each step bringing me closer to the hum of morning activity.The dining room lay just beyond, the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread mingling in the air.My stomach growled louder in anticipation.
Just as I stepped into the room, a sharp shriek pierced the air.Instinct took over before my mind could process it.My eyes darted to the source—a woman teetering on a ladder, arms flailing as she lost her balance.
I lunged forward without thinking, arms outstretched.Her body collided with mine, the impact jarring but manageable.I tightened my grip, steadying us both as she clung to me.
Claire’s eyes were wide with shock as she caught her breath.Her fingers dug into my shoulders momentarily before she pulled back, regaining her composure.
"Oh my gosh, your shoulders are so broad—" She started choking.
"Are you all right?"I asked.
"No," she said."Yes.Of course."She offered a smile."Thank you."
"No problem," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt inside.
We stood there for a moment, an odd tableau amid the clatter of breakfast preparations and murmured conversations.Then she offered another small smile and stepped back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You've got quick reflexes," she observed.
"Comes with the territory," I said with a half-shrug, trying to downplay the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.
Claire straightened, still catching her breath.
