Chapter 10

The moment the automatic door closed behind me, I crunched down on myself and silently screamed.

That was fucking humiliating.

Ms. Rachel was really sweet for trying her best to comfort me after my little crybaby meltdown. She stayed by me till I was able to feel a bit better. But of course, it didn’t stop there. Apparently, we had an audience watching nearby. A couple of old granny had been sitting and watching the whole thing, and as soon as Ms. Rachel finished, they swooped in like they’d been waiting their turn.

One of them patted my arm with a warm smile and said,

“Oh, sweetheart, we’ve all been there. If you haven’t cried in public yet, you’re not living.”

Obviously aware I was uncomfortable and ultimately embarrassed at my situation.

I stared at her, caught somewhere between mortified and amused. Before I could even process it, her friend chimed in, cracking some joke about how they’d seen worse meltdowns at church bake sales and bingo night fiasco. And, honestly? It worked.

Somehow, they made me laugh. Just a little, but it was enough to chip away at the heaviness in my chest. And just like every granny in the world who loved their grandkids, they decided I needed food. They weren't asking or suggesting.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting at a table in the hospital cafeteria with a plate of soup and these two strangers acting like I was their honorary grandchild. And I must say, grannies are tougher than you think.

They let me cry three more times. All the grief and stress just poured out of me. And they didn’t make it weird. They kept cracking jokes, offering me tissues, and making sure I actually ate something between sobs. I wasn't embarrassed anymore and It felt good to let it all out without holding back.

Time passed without me even noticing. One minute, the sun was out, and the next, it was dark outside, and I realized I had to head home. I thanked them awkwardly, fumbling over my words, but they just waved me off like it was nothing.

I let out a long breath, watching it fog up in the cold air before fading away. Autumn was colder than I’d thought it’d be, and the extra layer I’d grabbed before heading out wasn’t doing much. My legs felt stiff as I pushed myself upright, brushing the dirt off my hands. The streets were quieter now, just the occasional rumble of a car in the distance and streetlight starting to light up.

I stretched my arms a little to loosen my back, then shoved them into my jacket pockets. Home was still a bit of a hike, but I didn’t have much choice. A cab would’ve been nice, warm and quick, and no sketchy alleys to follow as a shortcut.

Yeah…..short cuts…..like I haven't learnt my lesson.

Money was tight, and I wasn’t about to waste it on something that wasn’t absolutely necessary when I could just walk it.

And so, I walked. My breath puffed out in little clouds as I tried to pick up the pace, rubbing my hands together every few steps to fight the chill. My mind wandered off, to bills, deadlines, and the same sinking feeling that never seemed to leave me alone. Since Dad passed, everything had been a mess.

Between the hospital bills and the bank breathing down my neck, I didn’t even have time to grieve. All I could focus on was paying down the debt. And thankfully Romona thought of a way to handle it even though it was a bit sketchy. Could I really trust that woman?.

Fuck I'm so desperate its taking so much out of me.

After this whole wedding facade works out, hopefully. I could pay off all the debt, sort through the contract agreement maybe for a couple of years, file for divorce and move somewhere far away where I didn’t have to constantly look over my shoulder or feel the weight of all this crap pressing down on me.

Cutting through the third alley to the way home. I was halfway through it when my foot caught on something and I stumbled forward with a yelp. My knees caught the floor first before my palms and face, scrapping my nose.

"Ouchhh."

I hissed the word under my breath as I kissed the floor. Now on the floor I turned into a seating position, squinted my eyes in the dim light to see what had tripped me.

My breath caught for a sec. It wasn’t trash or a random piece of junk but a person. A man lying on his side, dressed in a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His shirt was torn and stained with crimson red spreading out in a jagged mess from his side.

“Shit,”

I muttered, getting up on my feet.

My stomach twisted as I watched a steady trickle of blood drip from his side, pooling on the dirty concrete beneath him. He groaned softly, shifting slightly before curling further into himself, one hand pressed weakly to the wound like he was trying to hold himself together.

He turned his head slightly, and for a moment, our eyes met. His gray eyes were all too familiar, giving an almost unnerving look that seemed to hold me in place. I didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or just the shock of the situation, but a shiver ran straight through my spine, making my legs go weak.

That feeling and those eyes hugged my memory. It was the Mafia boss I had run into before while taking a shortcut. Ignoring the knot tightening in my stomach, I forced myself to step closer. Crouching to his side.

“Are you…”

I hesitated, unsure if he could even hear me.

“Are you okay?”

It felt like a stupid thing to ask, but my brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders right now. My hand moves on its own, touching his forehead. He was burning hot, a fever maybe.

Cupping his pale face, I tried examining him. Beneath the streaks of dirt, faint slate marks and sweat. Blood gradually trickled down from a wound on his temple, and the way his eyes kept losing focus told me he probably had a concussion.

“Hey, stay with me, okay?”

I whispered, brushing his matted hair away to get a better look at the damage.

“You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

Instead of answering, he groaned, and I panicked. Without thinking, I reached for his shirt. It wasn’t exactly the most normal or civilized thing to do, but I had to make sure he wasn’t injured anywhere else.

“Alright, let’s see if…..”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His voice, rough and edged with irritation, snapped at me. His hand shot up, gripping my wrist. His bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mix of confusion and anger.

“I’m trying to help! You could…”

Before I could explain myself, he suddenly shoved me to the floor. Now on top of me, his hand clamping around my throat with surprising force. My breath hitched as my pulse raced.

“Hey!”

I rasped, clawing at his hand.

“Let….go!”

I forced out,

His gaze darted around, as if realizing for the first time where he was. Slowly, his grip loosened, and he let me go. He stumbled to the side, one hand grabbing his side that was bleeding while I rolled to the other side, coughing. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his jaw tight, his forehead breaking in more cold sweat.

“Fuck…”

He cursed in a low voice.

“You need to leave. Now.”

He ordered

“What?”

I stared at him.

“Damn it, are you deaf. Fucking get.."

He ordered again

"I was trying to help you before you tried strangling me to death "

“I didn't ask for your Charity help. Just get lost"

He shot back, growling this time. Clearly he has trust issues.

“Look, you’re bleeding everywhere and you probably have a concussion. We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No hospitals.”

His tone went deeper, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay, fine, then at least let me call someone. The cops, maybe? Or an ambulance? You can’t just….”

“No cops either”

he growled, his voice colder this time. His hand went to his temple, smearing the blood as he wiped his forehead.

“And no ambulance. I can handle this.”

“But your bleeding, at least let me help"

“You don't even know me, why would you care to help?"

He had a point and for some reason that hurt my pride. I didn’t know him. Not really. It was weird for a complete stranger to want to help anyone in this day and age. But I’d met him before, once, and even then, it was because I got myself cut in a place I shouldn't have gone in the first place.

I glanced at the blood on his forehead, at the way he winced and tried to hide it, like he was too stubborn to admit he was hurting.

“We’ve met before,”

I said softly, testing the waters.

“You helped me out when you saved me from… .”

“From my own men,”

He finished flatly for me.

“I remember"

He winced, pushing himself to a nearby dumpster. Resting his back, he reaps off his left sleeve and proceeds to press further on his bleeding wound.

“Your the little doll who thought that taking a shortcut was a good idea. I'm guessing that's how you got yourself here as well.”

Well he got the nail on the head,

“I didn't know I'll be seeing a half dead Mafia boss on my way home?"

“I'm sure that what you stupid brain thought last time as well."

His sarcasm wasn't hard to miss. Even in pain he still has the luxury to act like a prick.

“Look kid, the last thing you want is to be involved in my business. Especially with people like me, Trust me.”

His expression hardened

Before I could argue, the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the alley. My head snapped toward the noise, and I saw his entire body tense, his eyes narrowing as he tilted his head to listen.

“Is that…?”

I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded grimly.

“More of them. They're coming.”

“More of who? They? Who is they?”

My heart started racing. The footsteps were getting louder, closer, and I could make out the faint shuffle of multiple feet on the damp pavement.

He turned to me, his face serious, almost desperate.

“You need to go. Now. Run. Don’t stop until you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m not just going to leave you here!”

The footsteps grew louder and my body grew cold, frozen in place from fear. My instincts screamed that this was bad, worse than bad.

“Stop arguing, doll and go!”

I hesitated, torn between his warning and the gnawing feeling in my gut. I couldn't just abandon an injured man just like that but such chivalry was going to get me killed just like he warned. I want to live but I want him to live as well.

“You better not die"

I glared at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears that stung my eyes. He smirked charmingly yet it was a weak one.

“Trust me, you have no idea who I am."

Taking off my jacket, I pressed it to his wound before getting on my feet and taking to my heel. Running for my life like it depends on it.

And ironically it did.