KILL SHOT

8. Three.

I drag her to the bathroom and sit her next to the sink. I open the cabinet and the drawers, searching what I need. My hand never leave her thigh, I reach out into the shower and let the warm water flow. I fill the sink up as well and with one hand, pour some Clorox in.

"Did you scratch him?" I ask.

She just nods her head and gives me her right hand.
I dig the clipper out from the drawer and start cutting her nails over the sink, the Clorox will dissolve the bastard's DNA.

After I finished both hands, I put her down on her feet and take my jacket of her shoulders.
I turn around just a second to check the temperature of the shower, when I heard a desperate scream behind my back.

Nicky is turning hysterical, shocked, shaken with uncontrollable twitches, her fingers patting her face.
She's freaking out, studying her reflection in the mirror.
Blood trails and bruises cover her beautiful face, her lower lip is swollen and cut. Her throat shows the marks of the asshole's fingerprints, purple and red. Most of the blood covering her arms and hair belonged to that motherfucker who came to rape her,  I think she just realized what has happened and what she's done.
Stabbing someone to death is quite fun for me, but Nicky is losing her mind, she's not the monster I am.

I cup both sides of her head and draw her against my chest. She completly breaks down in my arms, I make my best to rock her slowly, shushing her.
After what seems like an eternity, I feel her cries decrease and pull her back a little. I try a shy smile and walk her under the stream.
Slowly, I work on her torn dress and undress her injured body. She crosses her arms before her breasts and I don't dare take her underwear off.
It may be inappropriate to have her totally naked, she's been essentially raped and I don't want to make things worse.

We stay silent as I comb her hair back and draw the outlines of her swollen lip with my thumb. She winces a little when I brush the cut but keeps staring at me like I'm her God.

Don't overrate me, I'm still a piece of shit. A killer with no heart. You deserve so much better than me.

For a heartless guy, I'm feeling so emotional. Seeing her like this, damaged, makes me want to wrap her into my arms forever more than to punch her future dead ex.

Her wet eyes are begging me to come closer. I'm still dressed, on the edge of the stall, my forearms under the stream, miles away from Nicky. Too far away.

Oh Charlie, pussy cat, what are you thinking about, shake it for fuck sake!
I mentally kick my own ass.
People are waiting to be shot down outside, I have to move over.

Before I leave and blow up the entire City, I have to heal my girl's wounds,  she's been hurt physically and mentally and I won't go before I'm sure she's completly OK.

I break this intense eye contact and grab the shampoo behind Nicky. I quickly apply it on the top of her head, then start to rub her scalp in slow circles.
Her moan caresses my ears and I have to bite my lips not to groan myself. She closes her eyes and bends her head back as I go on massaging the back of her head and neck.

Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly!

My hands work their way down her shoulders and she finally relaxes, sighing sweetly.
Slowly, her eyes deep in my soul, she uncrosses her arms and covers my hands with hers, guiding them to her breast.
I stop her, this would surely kill me. My heart and my pants are likely to explode, I'm about to lose my soul, if I ever had one.

She gently pulls on my hand and I give up, who could resist such an invitation?
As I take a handful of that aroused and beautiful mound, she gasps and her eyes turn black with desire.
For me.
She wants me. Like anyone before.