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Taking a deep breath, I walk briskly towards the kitchen, doing my best to avoid running into anyone. The last thing I need is to meet one of Sergio’s men, or God forbid, Sergio himself. If I’d thought he’d already harmed me enough years ago, oh how wrong I was.
When I arrive in the kitchen, I’m happy to note no one is around. This is one of the kitchens that is seldom used, and then only when there is a celebration at the hacienda which requires more than the normal capacity.
Closing the door behind me, I hurry to the pantry where I’d hidden some things that I’d smuggled in the last few months—all in preparation for this moment. Yet I hadn’t realized that I would need some of these things for myself. Taking out some sanitary, I spread them over the kitchen counter, doing my best not to contaminate anything. I can’t afford to get an infection now, just as I can’t afford to mess up the plan.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells me I have an hour left until the pick-up time. And hopefully, Noelle can hang on until then too.
Since time is limited, I quickly get to work. Taking off my shirt, I undo my bandage and I hold up a small mirror to see the damage. I wince at the red, angry wound. There’s still blood pooling at its surface, and I know that the longer I wait, the worse it’s going to get.
Picking up a pair of tweezers, I douse them in disinfectant and clean them thoroughly.
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in and out. The pain is unavoidable. I know that. But I’ve had so much pain my entire life and ironically, I’m about to tear up at the mere prospect of using the pair of tweezers to dig the bullet out of my shoulder.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself.
But as I lift the tweezers to my shoulder, the door behind me opens. My eyes widen, just as the tweezers slip out of my hand, dropping to the ground.
Before I can scream or run, a hand covers my mouth, the other circling my waist and bringing me against his chest. A male chest.
Terror suffuses me.
I’m naked from the waist up, with a gaping wound in my shoulder. I’m at my most vulnerable and now at the mercy of a stranger.
“Don’t scream,” a voice speaks into my ear. It’s an oddly familiar one, and I frown as I try to recall where I’d heard it before.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. If I take my hand off, promise not to scream? No one knows I’m here and I’d rather keep it that way.”
His words are even more confusing, but I slowly nod my assent.
He drops his hand from my mouth, but his arm is still around my waist. Instinctively, I draw back, turning to face him.
“You…” I whisper in awe.
He gives me a lopsided smile.
“I’m a little late, aren’t I?”
I blink, wondering if this is a dream—is it?How many times had I conjured him before me just like this? Yet every time, it had only been a mirage that shattered the moment reality intruded on the fantasy.
“What are you doing here?”
“I promised you I’d come,” he replies effortlessly.
God, he’s even more handsome than I remembered. His hair is shorter, his body leaner. But there’s no way I would never not recognize those dark eyes—the eyes that still haunt my dreams. For years, his face has been the only thing I could fall asleep to, his presence the most comforting thing I’ve ever known in my life.
And now, to see him here, in the flesh? How is this possible?
“Are you real?” I ask in disbelief. “Is it really you, Nikki?”
“I’m here. I’m just so fucking sorry it took me so long, Luce. But I promise you, there’s a good reason for it.”
I nod numbly. How can I care about anything when he’shere? In front of me. So close…
A smile pulls at my lips as I reach out with my non-injured arm to touch him, trailing one finger over the back of his hand. My eyes close and a shiver goes down my spine at the contact. Not even the pain in my shoulder could detract from the utter delight of the moment.
“You’re really here,” I mumble incoherently, touching him some more—just to make sure he’s real. Maybe on any other occasion, I wouldn’t have been as bold. But as it happens, I’ve lost too much in the last years to not grasp onto this chance.
He catches my hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. He slowly brings it to his lips, laying a chaste kiss on the inside of my wrist that has me blush to the roots of my hair.
