Surviving The Mafia

Part 35

Part 35

Fuck my red snails, what was he was doing here? He was not well, not to mention the fact that he wanted to kill me right now. I mean, I didn't understand what his problem was, I just told him the truth, my parents did not teach me how to lie.

Severon just didn't know when to let things go. I wished he did, it would save us a lot of trouble. But first thing's first, I had to go talk to the doctor who was responsible for taking care of Severon. The idiot was careless, but I would not be. And he said he was going to take revenge. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just be nice to me for once?

With a smile, Severon entered the room causing my heart to climb up my throat. Why did he smile at her and not at me? I swear, he was the reason why my heart was getting so much exercise. If it wasn't for Severon and his beautifully mysterious looks, my heart would be lazying around.

I glanced at Maril to see her looking at Severon as if she'd seen a real life ghost. The way she paled and her eyes clouded with fear had me worried about her and the baby. Why was she so afraid of Severon? Had he done something to her? If he did then I would hurt him. I couldn't kill him since my heart wept everytime his lifeless face came to my mind.

Once Severon was standing in front of Maril, he gave her a once over before he turned to face me. And the switch in the emotions I saw in his eyes cracked my heart. His golden eyes frosted and an unknown emotion entered his eyes. Was it hate or something else? Whatever it was, it had my face heating up.

"Leave us," he ordered.

The crisp remark hurt. I opened my mouth to say something but had to close it when I saw his eyes narrow dangerously. He was not joking around, he really wanted me to leave. If I didn't, God knows what he would do, he hated me as it was. He looked like he was ready to murder me.

With a defeated sigh I stood up. I knew Severon wouldn't rest until I was out of the room. Throwing Maril an apologetic look, I shuffled out of the room, hoping that Severon wouldn't hurt my sister. I wouldn't forgive him if he hurt her.

Once I was out of the room, I knew a shower was in order before I went to meet Severin. But the barely healed welts on my back had me afraid of the water. I knew it would hurt like a sting ray, and yet I knew I needed to shower. Why did God designed us in such a way that we had to clean ourselves. Why couldn't we have some kind of automatic cleaning system? Right now, I really wish I was a seahorse or a jellyfish, staying under water would mean I wouldn't have to shower and hiss as drop after drop fell on my wounds.

When I entered my room, I dragged myself to the closet and pulled out the first pair of clothes my hands landed on; I didn't care if they matched, I didn't care if they were colorful, I didn't even bothered to see the style of the shirt, I just grabbed the clothes and trudged all the way to the bathroom.

Stripping down, I eyed the shower with fear and rage. I wished there was some way I could get out of this. But my body didn't agree, it wanted to feel the refreshing water, the fragrant soap, it didn't care that it was injured.

Hesitantly, I turned on the shower and quickly stepped back so as not to get hit by the cold spray. Adjusting the water, I kept it to medium before taking a deep breath, preparing myself to step into the shower.

You can do this, Kelsey. It's just water. You can handle a little pain. You can do it.

Forcing myself to listen to my subconscious, I stepped under the spray. I winced as the water fell on my welts, igniting the pain making me feel like I was standing under a blazing furnace which was made especially for me.

Water pelted my back like a thousand warm needles. My back hissed and cried, but I couldn't do anything. Tears stung my eyes as the pain escalated, but I knew I had to stay under the water for a little while longer. Grabbing the shampoo, I quickly squirted a glob and begun running it through my hair. When that was done, I moved on to the soap. I barely ran the soap over my back—because of the wounds—before I was standing under the shower once again.