"Sorry, I'm late." After quite a rush to deal with the tense street traffic. Abihirt took the right position facing each other with Barbara. He observed the sour face that was barely trying to be hidden. It seemed that the woman had waited too long for what he was trying to think. Abihirt understood, and he hoped Barbara should understand that important meetings did take up more time, especially if some unexpected parts came up to fill in the gaps left between serious discussions. Yet, here was Barbara. Abihirt frowned briefly, acting a bit calm and mature in the face of an angry woman. Leaving Barbara waiting alone for almost half an hour might have been the part to handle. Alone. Yes, perhaps that should be underlined as well. Abihirt's gray eyes moved. It was only then that he realized that the whole time he had been walking into the restaurant he had missed something odd between them. The silence was almost devoid of a single patron. Abihirt locked Barbara's face ag
It didn't seem like the right decision to go home alone. Abihirt was barely able to control the steering wheel properly after having to deal with the serious urges that were building up inside him the whole time. His entire chest and throat felt like they were on fire. He had already contacted Roger, sending him Barbara's home address so that he could catch up, or if things didn't go as planned, Roger would arrive first. Abihirt had searched for the fastest way home, the least traveled. But that, too, seemed to be a big mistake. Instead of the darkening skyline accompanying the faint sounds in the air, wild bikers were ungraciously making their presence known. One after another popped up. They were speeding. Then one of the bikers had an absolute collision. Abihirt made a steep slam-his foot pressed against the brake until it jerked violently forward, while the man with the head protector rolled several times onto the asphalt. The dragged motorcycle brutally sparks until it comes to
"What are you doing here, Moreau?" Abihirt's question was like a lump of meat that made Moreau's throat tighten. She didn't know how to answer, when it seemed like there was something her stepather was trying to hold back in front of so many people. And perhaps, because Moreau was still silent for a long time. Juan's voice soon chimed in. "I brought Moreau to this place, Mr. Lincoln. Please don't scold her." "I'm not talking to you." The gray eyes glared unusually sharply. Moreau instinctively pushed against Juan's chest to make the man beside her back away. She realized they had become a spectacle. This was no longer about a wild race, but how Abihirt barely cared about the people around him. Moreau didn't want anything to go wrong. Struggling to force her groaning tongue to speak. "I-I, just got here. Juan said there's a racing show, so we'll just be spectators. That's all. You... why are you in this place too?" However, the relationship between them was something Moreau
They reached the courtyard faster than Moreau could have imagined after doubting Abihirt's ability to drive most of the way. A man who was not well, but insisted on driving. Moreau still had that half-knowledge in the top of her head as she watched Abihirt walk almost in a huff towards a man who seemed to have been waiting for a long time. They only spoke briefly, but Moreau witnessed Abihirt's hurried steps to reach the living room. She trailed behind and swallowed harshly as her stepfather roughly flopped down on the sofa, while the other man was pulling something out of a leather briefcase. "What are you doing?" Moreau understood that the man she had been observing from the start was a doctor. She just wanted to know what specifically was being done-she mean, in what kind of order or illness that Abihirt seemed to have an urgency that needed to be dealt with immediately. "No need to worry, Miss Riveri. I am Roger, Abi's personal physician.
[Darling, I'm staying at Ferarra's house. We're having a drinking party. I won't be able to drive later. No need to wait for me and I don't want you to pick me up either. You can go to bed first. I love you. Love, Barbara]. That was last night's message. Abihirt exhaled roughly and put the handheld cell phone back on the glass table. Roger had given him medicine, but it felt like he was really going to catch a fever. His entire body was incredibly crushed, stiff, and the bones between his hands and feet were aching. Abihirt winced as he tried to get up. Slowly resting his back on the back of the sofa. There was no one in the living room. The memory of Roger that same night, telling him that the man had said goodbye, had given him a long rant. It would have been better if he wasn't here. The fact that Roger could make the top of his head throb was something Abihirt could not shake off. He tentatively reached out to grab the cell phone b
The repeated knocking on the door demanded Moreau to leave the bed. She needed to know who was out there, and what business it was to look for her at this time of day. Perhaps Barbara? Moreau let out a rough breath knowing it was too improbable. Barbara was definitely not at home. There was only one person left. However, Moreau could not ignore what she felt was important here. Slowly... after the door opened, Moreau held her breath even though she had guessed exactly who was looming in front of the room. Abihirt was dressed in a long, thin garment that traced the abdominal muscles hiding there. Moreau did not know if she could offer any tolerance to Abihirt's overly sturdy and perfect appearance. Really, it felt like that unexpected night never tried to leave her mind, no matter how much she tried. Moreau almost unconsciously swallowed harshly. Still waiting for when Abihirt would say something. The man looked down slightly, while she was looking up
Moreau spent all the time she had left in the room after the misunderstanding she couldn't even explain, whether to tell Abihirt the thick soup on her palm wasn't something the man should respond to, or to issue a warning that they were better off keeping their distance. Moreau didn't want another night of mistakes, almost desperate to think of something that felt truly horrible. It was too dangerous for them to be in such close quarters, for Moreau herself could not deny the attraction of her stepfather which was like offering a magnet, but she tried not to cling. Fortunately Abihirt was completely silent, and most importantly the man was no longer looking for her. A bit of relief. However, Moreau's throat felt parched. She wanted a drink. Trying hard to guess. Perhaps Abihirt was in the room, dealing with a feverish condition; who knew what now. Moreau grunted, then got out of bed. Hadn't Barbara returned home? She was sure the woman would be taking
Moreau had almost fallen asleep, but the faint sound of a knock on the door pulled her back to the surface. She lifted half of her body just to take in the dim situation in the room. It was already too late, wondering who... wouldn't stop knocking until Moreau made up her mind to make sure. She knew her mother did not have this kind of habit in the middle of the night. Strange. Moreau blinked rapidly and began to wonder... could it be Abihirt who was outside? She wasn't sure considering the man had left the house some time ago, but would confirm for herself by pulling back the thick blanket, then taking tentative steps towards the door of the room. It was dim enough to leave an eerie impression. Moreau stared for a moment at the copper algae, while taking a deep breath. She first grasped the whole of it, applied a little pressure, then pulled the door frame inward. The towering figure of a man. After an early detection that turned out to be correct, Moreau still faced a process