Wings For The Jailbird

22. I Felt Bad

I felt bad for not visiting him. And then I felt annoyed that I felt bad.

That about sums up my thought process during the past week. I, of course distracted myself with a lot of work related things. I also met many future clients and was actually more productive than I've been in a long time.

I woke up every day, took a shower and went to work. Eight hours later, I would drive back home, make some food and watch TV until I fell asleep on the couch. I would wake up in the middle of the night and then drag myself upstairs to throw myself into my beloved bed.

Sometimes when I worked late I would skip the TV part, but that was basically how my week went. It was much like before Killian Diesel entered my life again. Before I had fought with Kevin, which reminded me that we haven't talked for over a week now.

I haven't received a call from him and I wondered if he even cared if I texted him or not. It didn't seem like it. Huh, that was our real first fight and I wondered if it would also be the reason for the end of our friendship. If so, it was sad. I never knew how friendships worked, never had any friends. But I would always be grateful for Kevin, thankful that he showed me how that felt like.

It was Friday, the week after I found Killian in the telephone cell and I was watching TV, a package of pretzels resting on my lap. It took me a second to realize that the front door opened.

I glanced at Killian as he stepped inside and closed the door after him. He locked it with the key that I gave him when he moved in. I turned my head away when I saw that he was about to turn towards my direction. I took a handful of pretzels and shoved them into my mouth, trying to look as nonchalant about the situation as possible.

He stood there for a few seconds too long before he stepped into the living room. I felt my heart speed up and cursed at it to stop. I heard Killian stop next to the couch and from the corner of my eyes, I saw him reach back into his Jean's back pocket. I also heard him let out an unintentional groan of pain. My eyes kept glued on Agent Penelope Gracia as she typed a name into her computer.

"Here." I heard him say quietly as he placed something onto the couch next to me. I finally looked into his direction and saw the pile of money resting on my old leather couch.
"What is that?" I asked, frowning up at him. He was not attractive. At all! Damn my stupid heart for not listening to me!
"Money. For the vases and the urn, remember?" He shrugged, narrowing his eyes. I looked back down.

"I don't want your blood money." I said, looking back at the TV.
"Blood money?" He asked.
"You got that money fighting. I don't-"
"The fuck do you know about that?" He asked me, making me give him a look.
"Club Tekken? Calling me to meet you there, remember?" I asked him.
"I never told you I fought there." He glared at me now.

"You didn't have to. Your buddies told me everything." I said.
"Oh yeah? What's everything?" He asked, really sounding angry now.
"Does it matter? I know enough. I don't want your money. Besides, I have it covered already. I don't even need it." I told him, watching agent Morgan jump to catch the suspect.
"You don't want my money, because I got it when I fought? What the fuck is your problem, money is money." He scowled at me. I glared up at him.

"You beat somebody up for that money." I reminded him.
"I earned it." He growled, bending down until his face grimaced again. I watched him rub his ribs, feeling the need to ask if he was okay, but obviously didn't give in.
"I'd like to watch my show in peace, so if you don't mind." I said, gesturing for him to leave me alone before I turned back towards my go-to show after work. It has been one of my favourites ever since school times.

I gasped when I felt him grab my jaw and turn my head towards him.
"What's wrong with you?" He scowled, his lips curling up.
"Take the damn money." He said, but I shook my head.

"I worked hard to get that shit together for you and now you don't want to fucking take it?!" His voice rose. I furrowed my eyebrows.
"For me? Did you honestly expect me to accept money like that? Money that you stole or got when you were fighting? You consider that working hard?" I asked him in disbelief.

"Do you get stabbed every time you go to work?" He snapped at me, his hand tightening on my jaw. I grabbed his forearm and squeezed.
"You're hurting me." I breathed out. He let go of me and straightened up to glare down at me.
"You're taking the damn money before I fucking lose my mind with you." With that, Killian turned around and walked up the stairs.

But I was not about to let him have this one. I was not about to shy away when angry Killian Diesel demanded something. Not this time. I took a hold of the money, now completely uninterested in my show as I walked up the stairs after him. Once I was up, I opened his room door without knocking, disturbing him whilst he shrugged off his leather jacket. I saw the blood stains on it and cringed.

"How about you buy yourself a new jacket with that money? Because it sure as heck is not mine." I said, walking past him and placing the pile of money on his bed. I frowned once I saw the lack of sheets.
"Where the heck are your sheets?" I asked him, turning around to look at him.
"I threw them away." He shrugged, walking up to me and taking his money from the bed.

"Why in the world did you throw your sheets away?" This man really wasn't an easy nut to crack, was he?
"Because your fucking blood was all over it." He growled at me, making my eyes widen. I opened my mouth and closed it again. My cheeks started burning up and I looked at my feet.
"I- I could've washed them." I said, shaking my head a second after.
"The spare sheets are in the closet down the hall." I told him and took a deep breath before looking back up into his damn eyes.

He nodded, took a hold of my shirt and pulled me towards him. To my disbelief, he hooked a finger onto my bra, opened a big enough gap and shoved the money into my cup, right above my nipple. My mouth opened as I stared at him.

"Who would've thought I'd ever appreciate you wearing a bra." His smirk came through, no more sign of the anger he had shown just a few minutes ago. I gulped and then watched him leave his room.

What the heck? I blinked my shock away, looked down to grab the money out of my bra. I was done arguing with him. I practically slammed the money back onto his bed before I turned around to leave his room. I walked back downstairs, turned the TV off and walked into my bedroom.

Once I was safely seated on my bed, I sighed. My plan to ignore him was already ruined. But I had to stay calm, not let him play with me or make me do things that I don't even know if I want to do. I will stay calm, let him deal with his issues on his own. It was better that way.

My eyes closed as I repeated my last two sentences a few times. I was a beginner at meditating and now as I physically and mentally relaxed, I thought about doing that more often. It would not only strengthen my mental health, but also help me not snap as fast as before. I was actually looking forward to that.

But I completely forgot about that frustrating giant living in my household. And once he pushed my door open aggressively, making me jump, I sighed and opened my eyes again.

What was that about physically and mentally relaxed again?