Touch In The Dark

Chapter 25

Evelyn's POV

Atone

(Verb)

To do something that shows you are sorry for something bad that you did or for something that you've failed to do

I said that I'm not in the mood for bullshit today, I knew something was going to happen, but I didn't expect to get into a fight.

I can't believe Dimitri is moving me, I tried to explain to him what happened, leaving the part about my hickeys out, but he still said that I'm going to be moved. Why am I being punished for defending a friend?

As I sit outside, I bask in the heat of the sun. My cramps are coming back but they aren't bad enough to take pain killers for. I think the sun's heat actually helps. It's like one giant heating pad.

To my own fault, I can't seem to get the feeling of fighting out of my head. I loved the adrenaline as it rushed through my body. I felt like I was on top of the world, like I was in control, like I could never be harmed.

She got a few good licks in, but I know I one upped her.

My knuckles are a little sore and my scalp hurts a little from her being a little bitch and pulling hair, but other than that I'm good.

Dimitri had to go back in and finish a few things before coming home today, he said that he would get off as soon as he could so I wouldn't have to be here all alone. I don't love being alone, but I will have to learn how for when I move out of here.

I decide to stand up and go inside the house. Cool air chills my heated skin as I walk inside.

My butt hits the couch before I bring my knees to the side and lay down. I grab the small white throw blanket hanging off the side of the couch and throw it over my body. The fluff of the blanket warms me up within seconds. I'm happy that I already changed out of my work clothes.

I have black shorts and a white top with a grey sports bra so whenever I'm done relaxing, I can't have an excuse to not workout.

As I flip through the channels on the TV, my cramps become worse and worse. I actually feel a little nauseous.

I try to find a more comfortable position on the couch to ease some pain but to no avail. I need more pain medicine.

My feet hit the floor in search of medicine. I look in the kitchen, the bathrooms, everywhere I could think medicine would be, except Dimitri's room.

As I stand in front of his door, I can't help but feel like I'm about to make a big mistake. What if there's a dead body in here? What if there are some mafia secrets behind these doors?

The pain deep in my stomach decides that it doesn't care. It barges in anyways.

I'm stunned by what I see. A large, perfectly made king sized bed sits in against the far-left wall, an armoire painted in black holds an array of weaponry, dark grey curtains cover all three windows, a black wood dresser sits on the far right holding all of his clothes and photos. I eyeball the pictures, one seems to be of him and his mother when he was somewhere in his teens, even back then he was mouthwatering. I can't imagine how many girlfriends he's had. My eyes follow down the line of photos until they land one a specific one. It looks special. It's what I assume to be him as a newborn baby with Charlotte and a man. That must be his dad. He looks so much like him, they have the same strong jaw line, the same perfectly straight but small nose, and the same prominent cheek bones.

I wonder what happened to him. I know since Dimitri is the Don, it must mean his dad died but, I'm curious as to how.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I walk through his room and into his bathroom. It's just as clean as his bedroom is with beautiful grey and white accent towels. I never pegged him to be someone with an eye for fashion or design, maybe his mom did it.