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Davina's pov
May 6th, 10:00 a.m.

My wound is still healing, considering I got shot just under my right boob. It hurts like hell most days, others it's just another soon to be scar. It's also been a month, since I've seen anyone, last time I heard a word from any of them, they thought I was dead. Xander called my uncles phone crying the day after, telling him Willow needs to see me. Kayson from what I've heard.. is pissed at me. Pissed that I'd put myself in such a situation, but I did it for him at the end of the day. My dad has been coming in my office to check on me every few minutes, swearing he thinks I look tired and need to go home. His arm is fine. Completely fucking fine.

When I was shot, I can say I didn't really feel it much, but the pain after I woke up was something I thought I would never feel. I thought I was quite literally dying. The doctor didn't run many tests, he just made sure everything was okay and took the bullet out of my shattered ribcage. The pain I felt when that happened was nothing compared to hearing Willow screaming outside my door. Xander crying and trying to comfort her.. Kayson wasn't there. He was in the room next to me getting some stitches. He hasn't so much as reached out to me. So I guess we're just back to this whole no talking thing. Which I guess is a good thing, I just wish he would've at least..checked on me.

"You need to go home, dear. You're still healing." My dad's voice echos through the office, interrupting the surge of pain that shoots through my chest. "Yea, but who else is gonna do my job? No one. Off days are just not an option here." He walks to my desk and stretches out his arm, waiting for my hand to rest in his. "Dad, really. I'm okay." Just as the words come out of my mouth, the world goes against them. My fists clench as another intense pain shoots through my chest. "Absolutely not. I'm taking you home. You may be grown, but I'm telling you right now. You're going home and taking care of yourself for a few days. Your uncle and I can handle a few calls and meetings." My temper gets the best of me when I punch the edge of my desk, standing up immediately after. I look my dad dead in the eyes and try to hold it together. Then the pain gets to me. "FUCKING SHIT! WHY DID YOU LET ME DO THAT?!" He picks me up slowly, cradling me as I whine in pain.

My dad and I talked about everything as soon as I was able to get a word out. Now I'm just waiting for him to show me the threats of which my mother was behind. Not that I care to know what she had to say about me, I just want to know that's really one of the reasons it happened this way. His chain still hangs around my neck with the ring on it, and I still have a necklace with my dad's picture inside of it. It'll stay that way too, because this is a dark, and crazy world him and I are apart of, and I know the risks of losing him are high. The daily threats. The daily heists. The daily fucking deaths of random people in the mafia. You'll just never know who's next. When we had that talk..he explained everything to me with tears pouring out of his eyes. He was scared of my mother. So what I did was offered him to stay with me at my place for a little while, just so him and I could make up for lost time. I'm pissed at everyone for keeping such a huge thing from me, but I can't shut my dad out forever. Especially when I don't know how long forever is.
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         12:00 p.m.
My dad got a call in the midst of a conversation about the threats, but I can't say I'm bothered. I'm in need of some serious sleep, but I'm also pissed that I only got a few hours of work done. So I walk into the room he's staying in and start to beg him to go back to work. "Daaaaad. I only got in four hours of work. PLEASE let me go back." He turns to me with a stern, parental look on his face. "No. Go to sleep, Davina." I groan and throw my head back, banging it onto the door frame behind me. "Goddamn. What the fuck is wrong with me today?" I put a hand on the back of my head and walk further into my dad's bubble. "You can stop parenting me, y'know. I'm a big girl." I take a seat on his bed and lay my head back onto his pillow. He continues his call, his eyes checking back on me every once in a while. "You want to talk to her? You need to."

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