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CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
ETHAN
The steam from the pouring water reassured me that I would be comfortable in the bathing stall. My entire body hurt, but I couldn't cry or talk about it. I didn't earn it. There were men downstairs or at their homes as well, tending to their wounds as a result of my actions.
I walked into the stall, getting under the shower before letting the warm water beat my back and run all over my body. Some of my bruises came alive underthe water.
Pain heals pain.I deserve the pain, I told myself, but no one else did. Sean Mullen was stronger and better prepared than I was.
The image of his hands holding Vanessa flashed through my mind once more, and I clenched my fists.My muscles awoke the bruises, but I was too enraged to care. I desperately wanted to fight, kill, or hit someone, but I couldn't. My body wasn't in good enough shape for it.
I should have had a proper soap bath after falling in dirt, getting a few bullet grazes, and brawling with the Mullen man, but I was too weak. So I settled for a simple hot showerto clean myself up before some wine and a good night's sleep.
I considered checking on Vanessa because I knew she would be shaken by the events of the evening, but I was too afraid.
Besides, she probably holds me responsible for what happened, I was thinking to myself. Ithought of letting her go, but I pushed it away. She would besafer with me, especially since she was immersed in the Mafia world now.
As the heavy droplets of water hit my skin, I grimaced and moved my left shoulder under the water. Nonetheless, I stood there, eyes closed, drenched in my own bodily pains, feeling both rage and sadness for the injuries my men had sustained that night, as well as Vanessa.
I heard the door to my personal bathroom open unexpectedly. I came to a complete stop, my hand on the shower's faucet. I considered turning it off, but quickly dismissed the idea because whoever was in the bathroom with me knew where I was. Turning off the water would not have deterred any assailant.
"Who is there?" I asked, but there was no response.
All I could see through the stall's misty glass walls was a figure. Though that visual disadvantage bothered me, it increased my chances of survival significantly. I couldn't be seen as clearly. When they entered the bathroom, I braced myself to throw my body at the mysterious figure.
Itapproached the glass door and slowly drew it open. There was no sign of a gun or other weapon, only hands. I expected the figure to enter, but instead, they stood by the door, not revealing their identity.
Show yourself.
* * *
VANESSA
That night, I was influenced by a single thought: I can't be alone tonight.That night's incident had shaken me to my core. I couldn't sit still, and my hands couldn't stop shaking.
It can't get any worse, can it?Itold myself.Ethan cared about me in his own way, despite being a dangerous man. When the car crashed, hewas quick to grab me and shield me with his body as the car rolled away.
Plus, he had spared my uncle’s life and had let Anna go, I thought, feeling my perception of him change.
All of my thoughts did nothing to change the fact that I needed to be touched, held, and told everything was fine. I knew I'd want more after seeing him; that was his effect on me. And his effect was not something I wanted to avoid. I just hoped he was in the mood to spend time with me.
Ethan had fought hard, despite being outnumbered, and had not backed down once in order to protect me. That night, I felt a warm sense of gratitude in my chest for him. Coming back home, all he had done was worry about me, despite the fact that he was the one bleeding.
My bare feet moved silently across the wooden floor from my room to his.
I knocked once on the door and got no response, so I let myself in. The room was empty and quiet. It was cold inside, but I didn't mind because I was wrapped in my comfybathrobe.
Despite the silence, I ventured further into the room. The clothes he wore earlier that evening were on the bed.
Where can he be? I wondered but feared the answer. My first thought was that he had gone out to fight their assailants. And my brief encounter with the Levine Mafia family revealed that their fights were always fought with guns.
"He'll get himself hurt again," I thoughtaloud.
Curious, I came around to the bed to inspect his clothes. I had no idea how hurt Ethan was because he had kept it from me and had me taken up to my room as soon as we got back from the shootout. I lifted his pants from the bed and held them up to my face.
I could tell it had been cut open at the stitches so the doctor could work on his injuries. I heard the sound of a shower from the bathroom, as if in response to my concerns regarding his whereabouts. He was in there.
I took a deep breath, hoping that hewould be as eager for company as I was that night.
