The Boss and The Belle

Wounds in The Dark

Alicia's POV

I blinked against the harsh light filtering through the bright window, my mind swirling in a fog. As I tried to shake off the remnants of sleep, the memory crashed back in: the sharp crack of a gunshot, the fleeting moment when Andy had pulled the trigger. Panic surged through me as I sat up, heart racing.

“Andy!” I gasped, my voice cracking. The image of the man crumpling to the ground flooded my mind, sending chills racing down my spine. “What did you do?”

Andy leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression a mix of calm and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. “You’re awake,” he said, almost too casually, as if we were discussing the weather.

“Why? Why would you do that?” I demanded, the tremor in my voice betraying my fear. “You… you killed him!”

He pushed himself off the frame and walked toward me with a deliberate, almost nonchalant grace that unsettled me even more. “He deserved it,” he replied, his voice steady, the weight of his words hitting me like a punch. “He was hurting kids, Alicia.”

For a moment, my anger faltered, wrestling with the sickening truth in his words. The thought of children—innocent and vulnerable—suffering at the hands of someone like that clawed at my heart. But the violent act I had witnessed gnawed at my conscience. “But… killing him? Is that really the answer?”

Andy’s eyes narrowed, an intensity flashing behind his calm facade. “Sometimes, it is. Sometimes, it’s the only way to protect those who can’t protect themselves.” His tone shifted slightly, as if he was trying to make me see things from his perspective.

I shook my head, retreating into myself. “But you can’t just take a life because you think it’s right. That’s… that’s wrong."”

He stepped closer, frustration creeping into his voice. “And doing nothing while he hurt those kids is right? You have to wake up, Alicia. This isn’t a fairy tale where everything ends happily ever after. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices.”

My heart ached, the image of innocence lost swirling in my mind. The turmoil within me roared, a chaotic blend of fear, anger, and a twisted sense of understanding. “But you could have stopped him without killing him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Could I?” he challenged, arms crossed defensively. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in that moment. To see someone do the worst to a child and feel powerless. I had a chance to make sure he could never hurt anyone again. Would you rather have me leave him alive to keep hurting kids?”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I wrestled with the rawness of his words. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I searched Andy’s face for any hint of remorse, any sign of who he truly was beneath that tough exterior.

He sighed, a sound so weary it resonated within me. “I’m not him, Alicia. I won’t let that happen. But I will do what I have to do to protect what’s important.”

His words wrapped around me, and for the first time, I felt the weight of the world we were in—filled with shadows and harsh truths. My anger melted into uncertainty, a confusion I didn’t know how to articulate. Despite his kindness toward me, there was something about him that was inherently scary yet strangely intriguing.

“I just… I need time to think,” I finally whispered, feeling lost in the storm of my emotions.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. But the unspoken tension lingered between us, a chasm forged from blood and the blurry lines of right and wrong.