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The room falls into a brief silence, interrupted by the sound of my footsteps as I approach him once more.
My mind races to rationalize the warring thoughts and emotions within myself as I clean the blood off his bare legs and carefully wrap his wound.
I finish tending to his injury, my eyes drop to his torn and blood-soaked pants before I tilt my head to look at him, only to find him already staring at me.
There’s a raw intensity in his gaze, a mix of vulnerability, awe, and something akin to pride. The air between us crackles with unspoken emotions as he breaks the silence.
“You stabbed me.” his voice laced with amusement and curiosity.
I blink.
Is he just realizing this, or is this a symptom of the blood loss?
Slowly, I nod, unsure what to think, “I did,” I say softly.
His head cocks to the side, his emerald eyes searching mine.
“Then you took care of me,” he continues, “Why?”
My cheeks flush.
I find myself momentarily lost for words, my mind scrambling to articulate the complex web of emotions. I reach down to lift each of his legs, gently freeing the ruined pants from under him, careful not to jostle his injury.
I know exactly the reason I’m tending to him with such care.
Deep down, I’m conflicted about who Caspian truly is and his motivations. Despite the chaos and pain, I hold onto the belief that there is goodness within him.
But there are other reasons that I refuse to admit out loud, even to myself, for why I’m taking such care in tending his wound. As much as I despise him for the part he has played, the people he’s hurt...
The tangled web of emotions between us, that lingering spark refuses to extinguish.
I’m not ready to confront those reasons and I don’t know that I ever will be. The bandages, the gentle touch, the hidden concern—each gesture reveals a truth I’m not yet ready to acknowledge.
I choose to offer him a safer explanation, carefully choosing my words, “I’m doing this because you’re willing to help me rescue Darian and despite the turmoil you’ve brought into my life between foster care and Cain, I acknowledge that you weren’t responsible for the recent attacks. It also seems that you harbor a deep dislike for this Dolly person, possibly even more than I do. And you know what they say about the enemy of my enemy.”
Caspian’s jaw tightens at the sound of her name, “I didn’t know, Lara.” Regret and guilt flicker in his eyes as our gazes meet, and he opens his mouth to speak. “If I had known what was happening to you with Cain and in foster care, I–”
I hold my hand up between us signaling for him to stop, and he abruptly goes quiet.
Surprise rifles through me that he listened.
“We can’t change the past, Caspian. All we have is the future, and it’s up to us to shape it into a future worth living for.” I say, moving to discard his tattered jeans as his gaze drops to the floor before padding to Darian’s room.
In his dresser, I locate a pair of his pants and compare their size and fit. They’re similar enough to Caspian’s physique.
Darian’s slightly broader and more muscular chest might pose a small difference, but overall, the pants should be a good fit.
Entering the kitchen again, I hand the jeans to Caspian but give him privacy to put them on as I go to get the mop to get the blood off the floor.
Time passes slowly as I meticulously clean the area, allowing Caspian to recover.
In the following hour, Caspian outlines the steps required to retrieve Darian, his fingers swiftly dancing across his phone’s screen as he communicates with his team.
Val and I are tasked with locating Darian.
Caspian’s own team will handle the confrontation with Dolly’s hired guns.
But Dolly herself? She’s to be subdued and kept alive.
