Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

24| Wounds

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Wounds

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Chapter 24: Wounds (Logan's POV)

Throughout the drive, I repeatedly glanced over at Zarah as she drove. I suppressed an annoyed sigh when she rolled her window down, resting an elbow on the frame and holding her head in her hand as she released a soft breath, peeking over at my hand as I kept the tissues pinned down to the wound, resting it in my lap. 

"Did you grab that knife?" she asked, her voice coming out softer than I'd heard in a while. 

"I'm surprised your observant little ass didn't notice the blood on it as you held it," I muttered. 

She shot me a glare. "I'm asking nicely so just answer me, Markov," she snapped, "did you?" 

"Of course I did, Ms. Romano, my hand is cut open." 

"Why did you do that?" she asked, her voice growing louder in frustration. 

"She caught me off guard," I replied, "when you ran out." 

"That's real nice, blame it on me, will you?" 

"I'm not blaming you for anything," I said slowly, emphasizing each word. "You asked a question and I answered it, Draga. What more do you want from me?" 

"I don't know, maybe next time don't grab a blade with your bare hands?" she scoffed. 

I let out a dry chuckle and rolled my tongue along the inside of my cheek. 

"Look, I just don't like... seeing people get hurt, not that anyone does... It makes me panic. Even if it's you," she said, looking over at me. "I understand that you're under contract, it's nothing but a job for you to keep me safe and alive but you're not supposed to put yourself at risk to do that," she rambled aggressively, glancing back and forth between me and the road. "If something happens to you then who keeps me safe?" 

I watched her silently. 

"If something happens to you then what happens to me? You might have your own way of doing these things but it doesn't work for us, Logan. Your life is mine now," she said sharply. It was hard to distinguish if it was simply her frustration that was speaking or her fear. 

My eyes narrowed just a sliver. "Actually, it's your life that's mine. If it rests in my hands, on my shoulders, and it's my responsibility, then it's your life that's mine. You're mine, Ms. Romano," I said, staring at her as she worked her jaw, staring ahead at the road as she sped down the streets, growing a bit more reckless with the wheel as each moment passed. "Slow down," I warned her. 

Easing up on the gas, she released a breath, rolling her window back up as we neared my building. In her fit of annoyance, she swiftly parked the car, somehow landing in perfect parallel parking. 

Better than I do sometimes. 

Turning the ignition off, she twisted out the keys and got out, rounding the car and opening the door as I reached for it. I held her gaze as I got out of the car, watching her as we stood inches apart.