Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

44. Rum on a Fire

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I admit it wasn't the smartest decision to leave him alone in my apartment, but my head was spinning with so many thoughts and worries and possible scenarios that it was all I could think of in the moment. I needed to get away from him and give myself some time to think.

I heard my phone ring at one point, but I quickly declined the call once I saw that it was from Striker. My stomach knotted up, and after I had been walking for several minutes, I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and called my friend.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

I wasn't sure why, but the sound of his voice made my heart twist. I sniffled as tears welled up in my eyes. "Not really," I muttered. "I just — I need someone to talk to right now."

There was a brief pause before I heard Stolas say, "Give me one moment. I'll be right there."

The call disconnected, and I stood trembling on the empty sidewalk anxiously looking in all directions. My heart pounded in my chest. It was late, and I was in a quieter part of town, so there were very few people out wandering the streets now. Any sound or movement close by caused me to jump out of fear that Striker had followed me.

The glowing blue flash of a portal materialized across the street from me, from it emerged Stolas in some of his less formal attire, leaning on his cane. There was a troubled look in his bright red eyes as he hobbled towards me, the portal closing behind him.

"Are you alright?" he said, his worry evident in his voice. His hand gently wrapped around my shoulder when he reached me.

My teeth chattered from my stifled crying, and I couldn't look at him for more than a few seconds. "I . . . Stolas, I — "

I stopped when his long fingers took hold of my chin and tilted my head upward. He examined my face, his eyes widening at my bruise.

"(Y/N), what did he do to you?!"

I pulled his hand away from my face and sputtered, "It wasn't him, Stolas. It was a patient at work."

He fixed me with a stern gaze, and I knew there was no way he was going to believe me.

"It's the truth!"

Stolas looked me over one more time before saying in a low voice, "You can't stay there in that house with him, (Y/N). You're coming with me." Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and began to drag me behind him down the sidewalk.

"Stolas, stop!" I shouted, struggling to keep up with his lengthy strides. "He didn't hit me! I swear!"

"Even if he didn't, you're not safe with him, (Y/N)," he refuted. "I'm not going to let you get hurt."

I resisted and pulled against him, unsuccessfully trying to dig my heels into the ground to stop him. "Stolas, please! Let go of me!"

Stolas stopped and turned his head in alarm, his eyes fixing on something in the distance for a split-second before a gunshot rang out from the darkness. He let out a cry in pain as he was sent falling backward onto the ground. He clutched the side of his leg, a stream of black blood flowing from a new wound on his thigh and soaking through his trousers. I had just turned to reach him when I heard a familiar voice bellow from the shadows:

"Get away from her!! "