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Chapter 515:
🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙
Adam didn’t try to stop her. He just let her cry, his hand a steady, comforting weight on her head, until the storm passed and her sobs subsided into quiet, shuddering breaths.
Finally, she pushed herself up, her face a wreck. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks streaked with mascara. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand like a child.
She looked at him, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and fierce concern. The first words out of her mouth were not about the gunmen, or the investigation, or revenge.
“You must be starving.”
The sheer, unexpected practicality of it caught Adam completely off guard. He stared at her for a second, then a low chuckle escaped his lips. Her mind was a strange and wonderful thing.
“A little,” he admitted.
𝖮𝗋𝘨a𝗻𝘪𝘇𝘦 у𝗼𝘶𝗿 𝘭і𝖻𝘳a𝗿𝘺 𝗈𝘯 𝗴а𝗹𝘯o𝘃𝗲𝘭𝘀.𝗰om
“Right,” she said, instantly shifting into action mode. “I’ll go get you something. The food here is poison.”
She stood up, wiping the last of the tears from her face. She was halfway to the door when she froze, her body going rigid. A look of pure, unadulterated horror crossed her face.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, a hand flying to her mouth. “The bike.”
She turned back to him, her eyes wide with a new, completely different kind of panic. “I just left it. On the sidewalk. I didn’t dock it. The meter is still running. It’s going to charge my credit card until I’m bankrupt.”
The problem was so small, so absurdly mundane in the face of everything else, that it shattered the last of the room’s heavy, tragic atmosphere.
A real, genuine laugh burst from Adam’s chest. The sound was rich and full, but it immediately turned into a sharp wince as the movement pulled at the stitches in his arm.
“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Allison said, rushing back to his side, her face a mask of concern. “Stay here. I’ll go deal with it. I’ll be right back.”
She spun around and hurried out of the room, on a mission to save her credit score.
Adam watched her go, the smile lingering on his lips. But as the door clicked shut, the amusement faded from his eyes, replaced by a look of cold, hard resolve. This was a vulnerability he could not afford. She could not be this exposed.
He pressed the call button on his bedside remote.
Kip entered a moment later.
“Get the car ready,” Adam commanded, his voice devoid of all its earlier warmth. “We’re leaving.”
Kip looked surprised. “Now? Adam, your arm…”
“This hospital is a fishbowl,” Adam cut him off, his voice like ice. “They found me once. They can find me again. I will not have her in the line of fire.”
His eyes were like chips of obsidian. “We’re going to the safe house on Long Island. When she gets back, you bring her. No arguments.”
Kip saw the absolute, unshakeable finality in his friend’s eyes. This wasn’t a request. It was the decree of a king protecting his queen. He simply nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
.
.
.