𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

24

"Hold still for me, Cat" Damien rumbles, his hands working to clean and disinfect the nasty gunshot wound in my thigh.

We're set up in some kind of makeshift infirmary down in Rome's basement - just a sterile little room with bright lighting and all the necessary medical supplies. Smart thinking on their part to have an off-site place to patch me up without drawing attention. 

I grit my teeth against the stinging burn of some sort of antiseptic wash, gripping the edge of the cold table I'm laid out on.

"Went straight through, nice and clean by the look of it," Damien says gruffly, placing a steadying hand on my knee as he leans in to inspect the damage more closely.

I let out a shaky exhale. A bullet going in and out is definitely better than having to dig it out of me.

Rome moves to help out as he shifts into the harsh glow of the overhead lamp. He holds up a suture kit, his face creased in concentration.

I do my best to relax as he starts stitching up both the entry and exit wounds, pulling the torn skin together in a series of neat little knots.

Damien stays right by my side the whole time, his hand cradling mine while the other strokes soothingly through my hair. 

Soon, it feels like Rome is tying off the final stitch. He stands up with a grunt of satisfaction.

"Should hold," he says simply with a look to Damien. "Make sure she stays off that leg for a few days minimum."

Damien nods sharply, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thanks, man."

Damien picks me up into his arms in a practiced bridal carry. I let out a soft 'oomph' of surprise, but quickly loop my arms around his neck to steady myself.

As he turns to carry me out, I throw Rome an appreciative look over Damien's shoulder. "Thanks, Rome. I owe you one." 

He just scoffs and rolls his eyes. But beneath his serious exterior, I can see the hint of a smile as he waves a dismissive hand. "No problem. Just try not to get shot again anytime soon."

I let out a snort of laughter which quickly turns into a wince as the motion pulls at my stitches. "No promises."

With that, Damien leaves the makeshift infirmary, cradling me against his chest. We move through the dimly lit halls of the basement in silence.

"Thank you for taking care of me," I murmur finally, burrowing deeper into the clean, comforting scent of his shirt.

Damien lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through his broad chest."It's part of the package when you love someone as crazy as you."

He rasps against my temple as we head upstairs and enter the bedroom. "You did such a fuckin' good job taking down Andras."

Butterflies flutter in my stomach at his praise. I didn't just survive my demons tonight - I conquered them.

Smiling up at Damien, I nod. "Yeah, well...he had it coming. I wanted my goddamn revenge."

Damien lets out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrates through his chest. "My Cat was out for blood."

He sits me down gently on the edge of the mattress before stepping back, already unbuttoning his shirt. "Why don't we get you cleaned up, hmm?"

He begins stripping off my ripped, blood-stained dress. As I reach up to tug the pins from my messed up hair, something shimmers in my peripheral vision.

My ring - the stunning diamond engagement ring Damien proposed with not so long ago. I left it behind so it wouldn't be noticed or lost.

For a moment, I just hold the ring in my palm.