"What we had is over, Dawn. You don't have to do this anymore. You're free to go."
I traced the glass separating us with my fingers, looking into his green eyes and whispered to the phone, "So you want to know why I'm still here?"
He just stare...
"What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start
What if it only gets colder
Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart
Cause lately I've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we are"
— Banks
___________________________
"Do you know how stupid you are?"
Adrian looked at me, angry perhaps, but definitely not liking what I just said. I couldn't tell if he was just looking or glaring. We had reached his penthouse overlooking Tribeca. It was quite the opposite of Silas's preference. Adrian liked his things plain black and white, and contemporary whereas Silas was more of a vintage-preferring person.
"No, to the left," Adrian instructed against his will when I struggled to find a water bottle in his fridge. I took one out and poured both of us two glasses of water. He gulped his and set it down on the marble counter. I sat on the stool beside him and squared my shoulders.
"You deserved that," I said, rather an unpleasant tone noted.
"You probably wouldn't have said that if it had been Silas in my place," he answered right away, his eyes impassive.
I knew that I wouldn't have thought so but to feel a little sane I would have said the same thing to Silas. Of course, I didn't mean when I said it to Adrian. But he didn't have to know that. His bone fractures would take a few weeks to heal. That was enough for taunting him.
"You should be grateful that Benson helped you," I hissed and finished my water, knowing that she could've prevented the fracture and keep it to a flesh wound.
"She helped me?" He rose both eyebrows. "For all we know, she could have been waiting for you to get shot."
"Well, aren't you supposed to be aware of everything? Why don't you know who the bug is, then?"
"She doesn't tell me everything." With that, he looked away, maybe sulking. Age had touched his features. He looked warier than how he was in Maui. There were lines which weren't there before. It was sort of appealing.
"You should go upstairs, take some rest," I suggested.
"I have people who'd help me," he said when I aimed to help him shift to the wheelchair.
"Okay." I took my hand to myself, slightly humiliated. That was when it came to me that he was to be at bed-rest.
"Adrian, you can't go to the trial tomorrow," I said immediately.
He peered up, blue eyes narrowing instinctively. For a while, I couldn't tell what he was up to. Either he was going to be happy or devastated. Never the both.
"Thanks to your Agent Benson," he smiled. "I'll go. I made a promise to myself that—" He looked at me cautiously, choosing his words. "— I'll get rid of Megan."
I didn't say anything for a few minutes before standing up. "I'll leave then. Should I call the housekeeper to help you up? It's the least I can do."
"You don't have—" he halted as if reminded of something. "Okay."
So, I did before leaving the penthouse.
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