Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Relief from the fact he’s okay and that he’s left my brother breathing fills me simultaneously. I suck in a deep breath of gratitude and reach out for the man who’s reaching out for me; however, the sight in the corner of my eye has my hand extending towards my brother in a pleading nature.
“Zel,” Elias begins, gaze and voice much more tender than I deserve, “are you-”
“No!” I scream as I launch my body towards the unthinkable.
Tomas’s raised, knife-wielding hand is ruthlessly brought down. The first stab receives a gasp of surprise, yet the second and third cause grumbles of agony so severe they could shatter the windows. Elias drops to the ground, teeth gritted, eyes screwed shut with his hand still stretched out for me.
“Now, I’ll go home,” Tomas arrogantly sneers, pulling the knife from Elias’s back and stepping over him like he’s nothing more than another mess he’ll be having someone else clean up.
Paralyzed by disbelief and unprocessed grief makes it easy for my brother to drag me from where I’m standing and over to the elevator. The ding sound is heard again and becomes the jolt that my brain needs to come back to reality. Blood leaks from the wound staining his perfectly tan, sculpted skin a deep, betrayal red.
Both the girlfriend and the nurse inside of me try to propel my body towards him on a choked, “I have to-”
“Fucking prick,” Tomas gripes while yanking me to the back wall. “Should’ve stabbed his bitch ass again for that sucker punch.”
“I need to-”
“Probably got fucking glass in my leg.” He jams the elevator button with the butt of his knife. “Who the fuck has that much glass at their place?”
My efforts to get away from him remain steady, “Tomas-”
“You’re gonna have to fucking take care of this shit,” he motions the dripping tip towards the cuts above his brow. “I’m sure we’ve got a first aid kit at the house.”
“Tomas-”
The blood covered object lands on top of my exposed chest that the yellow robe is no longer covering. Despite knowing my brother would never hurt me like he did Elias, I cower in place. Let tears cloud my brown eyes over the coldness of the steel as much as having the crimson remains of the only man I’ll ever love be wiped callously across me. “Cover yourself up, baby sis. And be a little more fucking grateful that I just saved your life.”
Chapter Eleven
Elias
I let out a deep, guttural groan prompting Hans to chuckle, “That prickle shouldn’t fucking hurt at all.” My eyes drop to where he’s injecting a painkiller into me. “Hell, you should barely be able to feel it.”
I doubt I’ll be able to feel anything ever again.
I damn sure don’t want to.
It doesn’t take more than a couple breaths for the drugs to start relieving the constant agony I’ve been in. Gratitude for the relief has me shutting my eyes and focusing on the reprieve rather than the cold doctor’s hands doing their job.
“You should be thankful that the thief didn’t know what he was doing,” Hans announces at the same time he begins cleansing the wounds. “These puncture wounds are excessive but not deep.”
Dietrich clears his throat in such a way I have no choice but to meet his incredulous gaze.
Of course, he knows the truth.
He was the one who found me.
Who summoned Hans.
Who applied pressure to stop the wounds from bleeding while we waited for his arrival.
I didn’t have to confess that the bloody mess I was left to die in was a result of my latest doll. It was evident by her missing presence. Like always, he only asked the necessary questions needed to assist in containing the situation.
Dietrich has always been an intricate part of my household.
Perhaps I should remind him of that.
Give him off more days in the year.
Maybe renovate his floor to his liking.
Hans begins to casually investigate during the rinsing process. “How’d the guy slip past security?”
Easy.
His sister let him into our place.
A lump of sadness expands in my throat.
My place.
“Unknown,” I quietly reply, stare remaining locked on the most trusted member of my household staff.
“Thank fuck for cameras, right?” the doctor innocently chortles while continuing to patch me up.
The statement leads to my eyes boring harder into Dietrich’s. He offers me a chaste, reassuring nod that informs me he will handle that, too.
Needing the subject changed, I do my best to tease the man who is as much a friend as he is my physician. “Did we wake you or were you already awake?”
He allows the corner of his lip to curl upward. “I think you know the answer to that.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “At least having to come here sped up the waiting for her to leave process.”
“Which is why I’m thanking you instead of cursing you.”