Arson

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Author's Note:Boot Struggle -Tyler Bates

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Alexandria's P.O.V

Water from the shower trickles down onto me slightly, as I turned off the knob. I needed a shower, something to cleanse the physical and emotional dirt clinging to my skin.

The bandages are replaced, now with a patch covering the two parallel and healing wounds. I wrapped the gause just how it had been before...but the sting and ache was still a problem.

I hiss in agony, it falling into a quiet whimper as the wave intervals weakened.

Hold it together, Alexandria.

I ring out my ashy blonde hair with a small struggle, and clean myself up with a loose outfit to lounge around in. Just a loose black long sleeve and some other clothes to keep warm. The bed sinks as I curl up onto it, the cool surface chilling me down to a shuttered quake.

It had been a couple of hours, now. The morning's light barely broke through, from the overcast. So, I was in darkness.

And with no other option, I had to shut my eyes, and let sleep take me.

He'll be back.

He always is.

...Right?

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Somehow, I had managed to fall asleep. For how long? I don't know. All I know is, I was alone.

I wake up with a jolt, the world around me still dark and murky from the clouds outside. My eyes settle on the right wall, gazing at the steady shadows. Cars go by, and I listen to the gentle rumble and noise of water splashing.

And then, an outlier.

Click, click, creak...~

That wasn't the sound of a passing car.

Suddenly, the dark shadows and silhouettes of the blinds are casted out with a brighter light making a fleeting appearance. The front door had been opened, and closed quickly.

And then follow in frantic bootsteps. Angry boot clicks, I should say.

I bring myself to a sit, to see him pacing back and forth. It was like he didn't see me. Never noticed my concern eyes burning a mark into his new suit...just, tunnel visioned on his thoughts...trying to catch something that was running a million miles.

"Frank." The bare bottom of my light footing is sent into a fleeting cold shock.

He doesn't look my way, but stops. His fists clench, the sound of the material in the gauntlets and gloves indicating a tight hold.

"I COULDN'T GET 'EM..."

"Castle-"

"RUSSO SHOT CURTIS, AND WOULD'VE KILLED 'EM IF I DIDN'T AGREE TO HIS TERMS."

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down!" I'm cautiously approaching.

It doesn't stop him. With every word that came out of his mouth, deadly venom and murderous intention powered it.

"HE'S DYIN', TONIGHT! MIDNIGHT! I'M GOIN' TO THAT CAROUSEL, I'M ENDIN' IT WHERE IT ALL STA-"

My grasp is firmly at the corner's of his jawline, pulling his lips to mine. He freezes mid sentence, stopped dead in his tracks. Those fists of his inevitably unfurled, and were around me in a quick motion.