Bullet ✔️

Chapter 32

I woke to whispers and sunlight stinging my eyes. My whole body ached from falling asleep on the stiff sofa, but I couldn't remember having the blanket when I laid down. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I saw a dark female with long, black hair in a ponytail, with a white coat on and a clipboard in her hand. She was talking with someone, but I saw no one else.

Then my heart dropped into my stomach with so much relief as I heart my dad's voice. "Stop fussing, doc, I'm fine," he said.

I sat up immediately, ignoring my growing headache, and looked towards the bed where dad was laying, his face cleaned but still swollen.

"I'm only telling you to stay in bed for now. Your injuries are severe." The doctor turned to me with a soft smile. "Please make sure your father relaxes and heals, miss. I'll be back later."

She winked at my dad, before walking out of the room, and I willed my legs to work as I got up and walked over to the much more comfy-looking chair by his bed. He attempted a smile, but I could see he was in pain.

"Please listen to her, dad," I said, finding one of his bruised hands with both of mine.

"A mafia boss," he said, shaking his head as if he didn't really believe it. "I said he seemed dangerous, didn't I?"

"You did," I confirmed, staring at his hand in shame. I knew he wouldn't approve now, and he'd probably want us both to move out of the country and change our names.

He chuckled, even if it sounded strained. "I kinda wanna tell him to stay the hell away from my little girl, but the hunting rifle threat probably doesn't work on him, then." He coughed a few times and I straightened to get a glass of water for him, but his hand clutched mine tighter. "Truth is, I heard him say he'd kill the guy if he hurt you, and that's all a dad could ask for, really."

"You don't want me to run for the hills?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

"No," he said, like it was an order. "Damian is a dangerous man, no doubt, but he can and will protect you from evil men."

It was so weird seeing him like that. I took a second to actually look past my relief and saw the nasal cannula, the IV in his hand and the machine monitoring his heart. He was far from as fine as he told the doctor earlier, but I knew better than to argue about it. He'd just ignore me.

He pulled my hand up to his mouth and kissed it, his face turning softer. "If you want to, I'll pack up everything and we'll leave the city together once I'm all clear, kid," he told me, his voice soft and full of understanding.

"I hope that won't happen." Damian's voice sent shivers through my body, and I looked up to find him standing in the doorway. His eyes met with mine, and his signature smirk appeared as he walked into the room carrying a paper cup. He handed it to me, and moved over to sit on the uncomfortable couch, nodding at my dad in a greeting. "Joel."

Damian domineered the whole room. The couch seemed smaller under him, his arms resting on the back of it like he owned the place. As far as I knew, he might.

"Damian," dad greeted him back, "I hope that won't happen either, but if it's what she wants I'm ready to go."

"And I'll shoot anyone who gets in her way."

The weight of both of their gazes made me drop mine. I lifted the cup to my face, catching a whiff of the cappuccino he'd gotten me. It tasted lovely and did me good. My brain needed to wake up.

"Thank you," dad said after a few minutes of silence. "For finding me and all."

"Sorry it happened," Damian countered.