Dear Husband (VegasPete)

Chapter 19

"Boss, we've arrived."

"Huh?" Vegas flinched then looked his left and right, "Where are we?"

"Home." Nop replied.

Vegas blinked for a moment before finally remembering he was in his car on the way home with Pete. But for some reason, Pete was nowhere to be seen. He was left alone in the car.

"Where's Pete?" he asked.

"He's already inside the house, boss" Nop answered, his jaw pointing at the front door.

"Shit!" Vegas cursed and hurriedly got out of the car and went into the house.

He climbed 2 stairs each step, hoping he could reach the second floor faster. It wasn't hard to spot Pete sitting on the sofa in their living room, looking like he was holding something. He approached Pete slowly.

"Pete?" he called out.

He was sure that Pete heard him calling but Pete didn't answer or look at him. The man instead opened a white box with the words first kit written on it and busily took out some cotton wool and medicine.

"Erm, Pete..." Vegas tried calling Pete again.

Pete finally glanced at him with bored look, a look that reminded him of the look Pete often gave him before he went back in time. Panic came over him.

"Pete, are you mad at me?" he continued, "I'm sorry."

Pete stared at him for a moment and then lightly hit the sofa beside him. Vegas immediately sat down.

Pete dipped a cotton swab in the saline solution then used his left hand to hold Vegas' jaw and applied the soaked cotton to the top of his lip with his right hand. His movement wasn't exactly gentle and Vegas hissed in pain. He didn't even notice there was an open wound.

"Does it hurt?" Pete asked, he stopped dabbing into his wound.

"Yeah..." Vegas pouted.

"Good." Pete replied heartlessly and then continued cleaning the wound. Vegas groaned as Pete cleaned another cut on his face. In total, Pete cleaned 3 wounds on his face before cleaning the wounds on his knuckles and then applying antiseptic. He tried his best not to hiss too much.

After Pete finished treating the wound, the silent treatment continued and drove Vegas crazy.

"Pete..." Vegas called again, his eyes watching Pete put the medicine back into the first aid kit, "Can you forgive me?"

Pete closed the first aid kit with an unnecessary thud before finally turning to look at him, "Forgive you from what?"

"For ruining our night?" Vegas replied hesitantly, "I assure you, I have no intention of giving your grandpa another headache."

Pete sighed as he folded his arms across his chest as he leaned his back against the back of the sofa, "It's a good thing he's already in the room." Pete grumbled, "Otherwise he would definitely be upset to find two grown men having a cat fight in his house."

Vegas scratched his head, "That bad, huh?"

Pete frowned slightly then decided to smack his injured knuckle hard to show his annoyance. Vegas hissed once again, "I left you alone with Kinn for five minutes and you two threw fists at each other."

"He deserved it!"

"What for?" Pete asked confusedly.

"For—" Vegas stopped himself. He almost forgot that Pete might not understand his explanation.

The truth about Kinn being the old man's executor really bothered him. If the old man had set the bar for Kinn before his death and the limit was when Vegas was completely useless, his bastard cousin might be instrumental in his downfall.