97 - Wave

"What the hell is tragedy? I am."

- Sylvia Plath

. . .

"It will heal in a few weeks," Kevin said. He was a doctor the Creeds had. He was a tall dude with too much muscle. He had many scars on his tanned skin, too. But he had could green hair and a friendly smile so he wasn't that scary. "Don't do anything which can risk the stitches." He continued. I nodded. "I already gave you the painkillers you need to take. Do not eat much highly processed food, which includes ice cream." I frowned. "Eat simple food instead. Fruits and vegetables. I gave Zavier a list."

I sighed. "Did you have to do that?"

Xerxes chuckled, his eyes on the newspaper he was reading. I rolled my eyes, making sure he couldn't see them.

"This is it," Kevin said and picked his backpack up. "Call me if you need anything."

I nodded, thanking him and he exited the room.

I wore my sweatshirt again, covering myself. Xerxes stood up and walked towards me, taking my hand in his and pressing a kiss to my palm. There were many unsaid things between us four. The Paris thing. The fact that they were mafia bosses. I felt like putting a pause to those things. I just needed them. Laying there in that cold room for what I later found out was for eight hours, all I had been thinking about what how much I didn't do.

I kissed Xerxes, a small peck to his lips. I pulled back and he looked shocked.

I chuckled. "What?"

He shook his head, a small smile coming on his lips, his dimples showing. "One day you are going to drive me crazy, woman."

I pecked his lips again. "Again."

I did it again.

"Kiss me, Little love. Kiss me till you drive me crazy." I kissed him.

. . .

"Yuck."

"Just drink it," Ashton said. "No."

"Little one," he warned.

I sighed, standing up and setting my elbows on the railing of the large balcony, looking at the city far away. I felt as if I owned it all when I stood here. All I needed was a dark dress a dagger strapped around my thigh.

"Can we go out tonight?"

Ashton stood up, standing behind and putting his hands beside mine. "Yes. Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. Just out."

"Okay. The whole night is yours. Just drink the soup."

I sighed, setting my head against his chest. "Don't be mean." "Don't be a brat. You need to heal."

I peaked up at him. "I will choose your clothes for the evening." "Is that an order?"

"Listen to the injured." I grinned as he chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, " he said. "Drink the damn soup now."

"Feed me." My cheeks heat up. Why did I say that? I looked away from him instantly.

He chuckled and picked me up gently and sat me down on his lap as he sat down.

He fed me slowly. Somehow he made the vomitable taste of the soup tasty by his hand.

After he was done, he kept the small bowl on the table. I set my head against his chest and looked down the balcony as Alisa and Alexi walked out of the large mansion gates. There was a limousine surrounded by multiple dark cars there for them. Alexi got inside the limousine but Alisa paused.

She looked up and I knew she was looking at me. "Should I wave?" I whispered to Ashton.

"I have no idea."

"You always have ideas." "This is not scientific."

I sighed.

Alisa's gaze lingered and ten, with one short nod, she got inside the limousine. Two SUVs drove away, followed by the limousine and then the other SUVs.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" I asked him, taking his large hand between mine. "Don't say it's not scientific."

He hummed, tucking me to his chest. "Things she has been through are not easy. It'll take time, much of it." He kissed my jaw.

"How much time did it take you?"

He snuggled into my neck. "I'm still getting over it. You help." I frowned. "How do I help?"

"You are here, talking to me. It helps, a lot more than you think."

I smiled, snuggling into his warm chest. He was wearing a black sweater which was so soft. "You help, too."

He wrapped his arms around me, making sure to not touch my wounds. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything that happened." He sighed. "I'm so sorry, baby." I looked up at him. "Not your fault."

"We left you alone."

"Don't blame yourself. What happened...happened. I don't want you or Xerxes or Zavier sad because of this. I don't blame you."

"You should."

"I can't and I won't," I grumbled, cupping his face. He looked at me, his face neutral. "Stop blaming yourself. That's not going to heal any of us."

He slowly nodded. "You're too good, you know?" I grinned. "So I can eat ice cream?"

"No." He kissed me.

"Mean," I murmured against his lips.

"I'm your daddy, little one." He kissed me deeper. "You need to listen to me."

I bit my lip as he pulled back.

"I'm not fucking you till your stitches are out," he said and I pouted. He kissed my pout. "Then, I will make you cry, hm?"

I felt myself throb. "Please..."

He shook his head, kissing my lips again. "Be a good girl now, little one."

. . .