Chapter Twenty-Six

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                I was startled when I looked at myself in the mirror. Blood. Nash's blood. It was on my jacket, it was on my hands, my wrists, the crook of my neck, and worst of all, my face. His hand on my cheek was obviously the culprit.

I frantically pulled way more paper towels from the dispenser than what was needed. I forced the towels and my hands under hot water. Pulled my jacket off with dramatic force and threw it to the ground and started scrubbing my hands frantically. I looked back up to the mirror where the blood was still on my face. I splashed hot water onto my face and scrubbed until I was raw.

I was almost ready to leave the bathroom when I looked down to my shoe and saw a spot of blood on it. Finally, I lost it and burst into tears.

The hospital was at least a pretty common place for people to have a break down. So I didn't feel too stupid for sitting on the ground with my face in my hands. I doubted the sanitary level of the bathroom floor but I couldn't stop now.

An annoying vibrating interrupted my break down. My phone was in my coat. My coat doused with Nash's blood. I wanted neither.

Regardless, I pulled the jacket over by the sleeve and because mostly just the top half of the coat was ruined I managed to get into my pocket without getting blood on me again. That's not to say I didn't feel dirty again.

"Hello?" I said in a voice I hardly recognized as my own.

"Where are you?"

Alessio.

I looked around the room. "Bathroom." I croaked.

"Could you possibly be more descriptive? What floor? I'm coming to get you."

It hit me suddenly. He was tracking me. He knew exactly where I was. Why was he calling me to begin with? Alessio never called me. He didn't waste time like that he would just come get me. Actually, Pietro would come get me. Alessio never came and got me himself.

He knew I was at the hospital. He was coming to get me himself. Maybe he was coming to finish the job.

I shot up from the floor. If the bathroom door had pushed open I would have simply palmed it in my fury, alas, it required a pull. I flung it open with enough force to cause it to crack loudly off the wall and stepped out of the bathroom. I looked down the hall both ways and finally saw him.

We locked eyes, both still having a phone to their ear.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I whispered into the phone and more tears spilled over. "You shot him?"

Alessio's expression didn't change, not a fraction of an inch. "He was a threat to us."

"He never did anything. He helped me!" I said in disbelief into the phone.

We stood just about twenty feet away from each other in the hallway as we spoke. It's as though everyone had cleared the room for us, not one person walked between us.

"Come on."

"You shot him!" I hissed into the phone.

"We can have this conversation when we get home." He sighed.

I took a step backwards. "Home?" I gasped. "You shot an innocent man! Why would I want to come home with you?"

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