The cigarette burned down to the filter. I crushed it in the ashtray, set down the empty mug, and picked up my phone. I opened the tracker app. A small blue dot pulsed near the university.
She was in class.
I stared at the screen. The rational part of me said I should leave her alone. Give her space. Not show up like some unhinged stalker with a death wish.
But the rest of me?
The rest of me was already thinking about the best entrance route and how to pull her out mid-lecture without turning the place into a crime scene.
I tapped the screen off and slipped the phone into my pocket.
Fuck it.
Who would question it? Her father’s man picking her up from school wasn’t exactly a scandal. And if anyone did grow the balls to tell Pakhan about it—then they could try their luck with me. See how long they lasted.
I was losing my goddamn mind over her.
Keys in hand, I got in the car and headed for her school. The city passed in a blur—streets I could drive blindfolded, faces I didn’t bother registering. My only focus was that pulsing blue dot.
I parked a block away and walked. Hoodie up, hands in my pockets. The campus was crawling with students, none of them ready for a man like me to step into their pristine little bubble.
People stared. Of course they did. Tattoos down my hands, the scowl that came standard with my face, and a build that made me look like I should be breaking kneecaps, not walking toward a fucking university lecture hall.
Can you imagine me—me—sitting in a lecture hall, nodding like some obedient little student, scribbling notes while a professor drones on about ethics or whatever the fuck they teach here? The thought alone almost made me laugh. Me, behaving. Me, pretending I belong in a room where people solve problems with textbooks instead of fists.
If I ever did drag my ass to school, though, it wouldn’t be for that useless bullshit. Medicine, maybe. Yeah… that I could respect. I already know how to take a body apart well enough. Might be useful to learn how to stitch it back together too. Imagine that—me in a lecture, learning how to sew flesh instead of tear it. Hell of a skill to have.
I followed the dot to the building and straight through the front doors, scanning until I found the right hall. No hesitation. No knocking. I pushed the door open mid-lecture, and the whole room fell into dead silence.
A few gasps. One girl actually dropped her pen.
The professor froze mid-sentence, blinking like he’d forgotten his own name.
I stepped fully inside, took a slow look around, and landed on her.
She was sitting near the middle. Face pale. Eyes rimmed dark, like she hadn’t slept. She didn’t look surprised. Just… tired. A little guarded. A little unsure.
She stood when she saw me, her bag already in hand. A faint smile flickered across her mouth, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Shit.
My pulse kicked.
What if I was wrong? What if yesterday had been too much for her? What if she regretted it?
My mind raced—every fucking possibility slicing into me like blades. Did I scare her? Did I hurt her? Did I fuck it up?
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said to the professor, keeping my voice calm, just polite enough. “Urgent family matter.”
The professor nodded too quickly, eyes full of fear. “Yes, of course. Miss—uh—yes.”
Kira walked past the rows of wide-eyed students like she didn’t feel their stares. But I saw the way her hand trembled slightly on her bag strap. I saw everything.
She reached me, and I opened the door for her. Let her walk out first.
The door swung shut behind us, muffling the stunned silence inside.
Neither of us spoke as we walked down the hall. My hands itched to touch her. To pull her close and ask if she was okay. To kiss that flat expression off her face until it melted into something I recognized.
