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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
ZOEY
The morning light filtered through the curtains, and as I woke up, a throbbing pain reminded me of the previous night's chaos. Trying to sit up, the ache in my abdomen protested, and I winced. The aftermath of the bullet wound was making its presence known.
As I shifted on the bed, I felt an unexpected weight on my hand. Confused, I glanced down and saw Zoey, asleep and holding onto my hand like it was some lifeline.
It was a sight that threw me off guard—her face relaxed in sleep, a stark contrast to the confrontational woman I'd grown accustomed to.
Deciding to let her sleep, I eased back onto the pillows and found myself just watching her. In the quiet of the morning, with the room bathed in a soft glow, Zoey looked different.
The harsh lines that usually marked her expression were softened, and there was an unexpected serenity to her features.
I couldn't help but think about how beautiful she looke
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