Dangers in my Heart

Chapter 8

Jennie's POV

"Lisa, will you stop moving?!" I snapped, my voice sharper than intended.

She froze mid-shift, her usual smirk vanishing as she raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, princess. Do your thing."

I sighed, pushing my hair back as I knelt beside her. The room's dim lighting made the blood on her shirt seem darker, more ominous. My hands trembled slightly as I prepared the items Seth had handed me—sterilized gauze, needle, thread. Lisa's wound was deep but not life-threatening. Still, seeing her like this made my chest tighten.

"This might sting," I murmured, grabbing the antiseptic.

Lisa hissed as I dabbed the wound, her jaw tightening. "Sting? Feels like fire, doc."

"Good. That means it's working," I said dryly, earning a low chuckle from her.

Threading the needle took longer than I cared to admit. The adrenaline coursing through me hadn't faded, and the chaos from earlier replayed in my mind. Lisa shielding me, her effortless strength in the fight, and the way she had almost crumbled but refused to show it.

Finally, I steadied myself and began stitching. Each careful movement brought a wince or sharp inhale from Lisa, but she never complained.

"Where did you learn to do this?" she asked, breaking the tense silence.

"I graduated from medical school," I replied, not looking up.

Lisa made a soft sound of understanding. "So that's why."

"Why what?" I asked, finishing the last stitch and tying it off.

"No wonder you're terrible at finding or unlocking clues," she teased, her lips twitching into a faint grin.

I paused, tempted—so tempted—to unpick the fresh stitches and leave her to fend for herself. Instead, I rolled my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Done," I said curtly, standing and packing away the supplies.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Lisa's voice was amused, and when I looked up, she was watching me with that familiar smirk, her sharp gaze assessing me as if I were the most fascinating puzzle in the world.

"Rest," I muttered, ignoring her grin as I turned to clean up.

Seth approached, his voice breaking the brief silence. "Boss, dinner's ready."

Lisa stretched slightly, wincing but quickly masking it with a shrug. "Jennie, stay. Have dinner with us."

"It's fine, Lisa. Frederic and I should—"

"The boss doesn't take no for an answer, madame," Seth interrupted, his tone polite but firm as his gaze flicked to Lisa for confirmation.

Lisa's smirk widened, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes as she leaned back against the chair. "You heard him, princess. Stay."

I looked between the two of them, my mouth opening to argue but quickly closing when I saw Lisa's expression—challenging, smug, and undeniably stubborn.

"Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms as I shot her a glare.

Her smirk softened into something almost warm, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased. But as I sat down, I couldn't shake the feeling that this woman—this infuriating, enigmatic woman—was going to be the death of me.

•••

The aroma hit me first, rich and inviting, cutting through the lingering metallic tang of antiseptic and gunpowder. My stomach growled embarrassingly, reminding me just how long it had been since my last proper meal.