Alvarez

Twenty-five

To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked - Anne Carson

Christian
The wound wasn't as bad as the doctor made it out to be. After I'd gotten shot that night, I made Jackson inject me with morphine we had in the first aid kit. Apparently it was a bad idea, and I seemed to have lost a lot of blood.

But now I was good as new. It's been about a week, Mia has started planning an event here at the house and Ricci was gone. I was still yet to figure out who broke in that night and she refuses to talk about it until I'm feeling better. Lucky for her, I'm feeling great which means I'm ready to yell. Something was wrong about that night. It would be practically impossible to break into this house, but I knew it wasn't armed after Mia went outside. The question is how did those men know that, too? The only possible reason is that they've been casing the house, found a way to watch without being noticed. It's a weak theory, it makes so little sense to me that someone was just able to come in here. Something about it is off. I don't want to scare her, but this could've been so much worse.

She's helped me out these past few days, she dressed my wound a couple times and offered words of encouragement I didn't need. Fuck, I felt it when she touched me. She was touching my goddamn arm and I couldn't keep it together. There was something about her... something that's killing me. She dialed down her bitchy-ness to about a four, and even brought me dinner. She made me a tea that knocked me out every single night and I had never slept for that long before. I even accused her of drugging me, there was no way a tea could make me sleep that well. I tried to convince her so many times that I was fine, to no avail. She refused to believe me.

I sat in the living room and watched her give the staff working in the house yet another day off. Jackson dressed my wound as I watched her walk towards us. "you know I still have to pay them even though they're never even here, right?" I ask her, and she has a look of guilt on her face. "luckily I married a billionaire" she takes advantage of knowing I'll never deny her of anything, no matter the price. It makes me happy. She smiles softly then looks to my arm. "How are you feeling?" she asks me, and winced when Jackson removed the gauze.

"I'm fine. We need to talk about the other night." I said, and her eyes flicked to the door. "I think I hear the phone ring-" she said before I stopped her. "sit down, love." I say, and gesture for her to sit across me. She bites into her lip and obeys. Jackson quickened his pace and I waited for him to leave. I gazed at her. She's in faded blue jeans and a dark red sweater. It's so dark it makes her light colored skin look almost white. Her hair is in a ponytail and she's fiddling with her hands in her lap. I'm going to yell at her, but I don't want her to be nervous.

She stared at me, and I stared back until Jackson cleared his throat and left. "I didn't leave the door open on purpose." she blurts out. Her eyes drop to the floor. "I know you didn't." I say, and she lifts her head. "what I want to know is why you didn't arm the house when you got back inside."

"I thought you were on the way back." she said, defensively. "that's not a very good answer." I say, and she frowns. Now that invites were out for this event Mia planned, I was even more on edge about her being alone here. My main goal has always been to protect her. Falling in love with her was never a part of the plan but it happened anyway and I don't care anymore.

"look, Mia, I don't give a fuck about anything here in the house. All I care about is that you didn't get hurt or involved in any way. I will see to it that it never does, but if this ever happens again, you let them take whatever they want from my study. My files, my work, all of it. But you don't let them anywhere near you." I tell her, because chances are this happens again, she'll probably protect my work before herself. I just don't know how to explain to her that all of that shit is replaceable. She's anything but replaceable, and the thought of something happening to her... No.