23 - Don't let go of me

I used to say, "I wanna die before I'm old" But because of you, I might think twice

- Twenty One Pilots

. . .

OLIVIA WOODS

Half of my apartment was on fire. I couldn't breathe.

I was backed up against the window. My door was on fire. I couldn't get out.

I couldn't get out.

I could hear screams echoing as the smoke suffocated me.

My window was not opening. The handle was jammed. I was trying to open it, trying to break it, nothing was working. There was nothing for me to break it with.

Everything was so hot. I felt like my skin was burning even though the flames had not touched me. My hair was sticking to my face. The fire came closer and closer and closer...

I knew I was panicking. I knew I had to keep a clear mind to get out but all I could do was try to move the damn handle.

My knees weakened and before I knew it I was falling on my carpet. I kept a hand on my heart, trying to breathe. I needed to do something. I needed to do something. I needed to get out.

My legs refused to move. I couldn't breathe in here. Smoke surrounded me. I could see the silver dress burning on my chair. My bookshelf was burning. That stack of books beside it that Xerxes hated so much was burning. Everything was burning.

I was choking on my tears. I was looking down at my hands on the carpet. My rings were not there.

My eyes closed.

. . .

ZAVIER CREED

"What I want to know is how the fuck did she get hurt?"

They were silent.

I smashed the whisky glass on the wall. Fucking hell. I took my gun out. I saw them stiffen. All ten of them. Xerxes was watching silently. Ashton was in one of the many guestrooms upstairs with Olivia.

I pointed at the first man and shot, my hand jerking with the impact. Blood sprayed on the wall.

"How-" I asked softly to the remaining four. They had been good guards till now "-the fuck did my woman get hurt?"

"The fire spread quickly, boss," said the one on the right. "It started on her floor. It was impossible to get to her."

"Impossible to get to her?" Xerxes chuckled, standing up. "What would have happened if you went up there?"

"We would have died." Xerxes shot him.

"By the time we are done with you you will wish you had died saying Olivia," I said and motions the other guards to take the guards who have left away. They didn't beg for mercy. I would ensure that they do that later. For now, I needed to see her.

I climbed the giant staircase with Xerxes. I opened the door and there she was. She had not been injured because of the fire.

She was okay.

She had been saved before she could inhale too much smoke. Some cough drops were prescribed but that was it. Thank fuck.

I walked inside. Ashton was sitting beside her on the bed, holding her hand. "Did you deal with them?"

"Eight are still alive," Xerxes answered as he took his shoes off and got on the bed to sit on her other side. I just stood there and watched her.

Her skin was a little pale. Her hair was sticking to her skin and her eyebrows were pinched. She had been so close to...

I shook my head. She was not going anywhere. Nothing could hurt her. My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

There was a picture of three rings, rings I knew too well, placed on a small sign of Bratva.

The threat was clear and the cause of the fire, too. We set fire to his house.

He was setting fire to our world.

. . .

I was laying next to her. She had curled into a ball beside me, setting her head on my arm.

I was just looking at her.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Everything about her intrigued me. It wasn't particularly her innocence, it was her everything. I doubted I would have been able to resist those brown eyes even if she had fucked half of Manhattan, I would just have a lot of people to kill then.

"Kitten..." It was around two in the afternoon and she needed to eat.

She snuggled into me. I smiled. She had been petrified of us when we first met and now her stutters were becoming less frequent.

We had to convince her to stay with us. Either here or one of the penthouses we had in the city. Everything was becoming too dangerous and I'd be damned before she got hurt in this shit show.

I cupped her cheek, she snuggled into it.

"I'll take care of you, kitten," I whispered, running my thumb over her cheekbone.

Slowly her eyes opened. She frowned at the light infiltrating the room and then looked at me. "Zavier?" Her voice was hoarse. She coughed. I moved away and picked up the glass of water on the nightstand. I helped her sit up and gave her the glass.

She grabbed it with both of her hands and gulped it down. She gave it back to me, looking lost.

I picked her up and sat her down on my lap.

She curled into me, one hand grabbing the material of my t-shirt. She was shaking.

"You're okay." I cupped her face. Tears filled her tired eyes. "You're okay."

"I...I thought I was going to die," she whispered hoarsely, tears running free now. I wiped them away. "I was so scared." She closed her eyes, putting her face in the crook of my neck and crying. I held her tightly, rubbing her back.

I had never expected my life to turn out like this - comforting a woman while she shook in my arms.

She was soft against me - the fucking sunshine against my storm. She was everything I wasn't and could never be.

But she was mine. "Zavier?"

"Yes?"

"Don't let go of me."

My arms tightened. "Never, kitten."

. . .