Breathless ✓

Eighteen ✔

I open my eyes to a room bathed in soft, unfamiliar light. The air feels different—sterile, and a faint scent of antiseptic lingers. As my senses slowly come into focus, I realize I'm lying on a bed, surrounded by unfamiliar walls.

Panic rises within me. Where am I? What happened? The events leading to this moment are blurred, fragmented memories. My arm, wrapped in a clean white bandage, serves as a stark reminder that something went terribly wrong.

A door creaks open, and my gaze shifts to the entrance. Two figures step into the room, and my eyes struggle to adjust. The taller silhouette is unmistakably Christian, his features etched with concern. Beside him stands Rico, a reassuring smile on his face.

"Victoria," Christian's voice cuts through the haze, his eyes searching mine for recognition. "How are you feeling?"

Confusion clouds my thoughts as I try to piece together the puzzle of my recent memories. "What happened? Where am I?"

Christian exchanges a glance with Rico, a silent conversation passing between them. "You were in a car accident," Christian explains, choosing his words carefully. "We found you, and Rico brought you here. You're safe now."

My mind struggles to accept the reality of the situation. The accident, the burning cars, the hazy recollection—all fragments of a nightmare I can't quite grasp.

Rico steps forward, offering a reassuring nod. "You took a hit to the head. It's normal to feel disoriented. But you're in good hands."

As my surroundings slowly come into focus, I realize I'm in a small, neatly arranged room. The walls are painted in calming tones, and medical equipment is discreetly placed around.

"Give yourself time," Rico advises, a comforting hand on my shoulder. "The doctor said you'll be fine with some rest."

"How did you know? You left. You were gone." I mumble out.

Rico exchanges a glance with Christian before his eyes meet mine with a mixture of empathy and hesitation. "We... came back," he admits, choosing his words carefully. "Things got complicated, and we realized we couldn't just leave you like that."

My brow furrows as I try to process his explanation. Complicated? What happened that made them reconsider? Before I can voice my questions, Christian steps closer, concern etched across his features.

"We got a call, Victoria," he begins, his voice low and serious. "Someone out there seems to be targeting you. We can't let you face this alone."

Targeting me? The words hang in the air, casting a shadow over my already muddled thoughts. Fear creeps in, but Christian's presence provides a semblance of security.

"Why? Who would want to hurt me?" I manage to utter, my voice shaky.

Christian's jaw tightens, and he exchanges another glance with Rico. "There are things you don't know about my past, Victoria," he confesses, his gaze unwavering. "Things that might have put you in danger. We're here to protect you now."

The weight of his words settles in my chest, and a flood of emotions follows. Confusion, fear, but also a strange gratitude for their return. My mind races with questions, but the exhaustion pulls me back into a haze.

"Rest for now," Christian urges, his tone gentle. "We'll explain everything when you're ready."

As they retreat from the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, the gravity of the situation sinks in. The room that initially felt comforting now holds the weight of secrets and uncertainties. Closing my eyes, I surrender to the fatigue, knowing that when I wake, a complex web of truths and dangers awaits.

...

I gradually wake to the soft touch of someone brushing a strand of hair from my face. My eyes flutter open, and there he is—Christian, sitting beside me with a look of concern etched on his face. The faint light filtering through the curtains paints his features with a comforting warmth.

"Hey," he says softly, his hand still lingering near my face.

"Hey," I reply, my voice a hoarse whisper. The memories of the accident and the revelation flood back, and my chest tightens with anxiety.

Christian's expression changes as he observes me, sensing my unease. "Victoria, are you okay?" he asks, his eyes searching mine.

His genuine concern breaks down the walls I've tried to build around myself. The dam holding back my emotions begins to crack, and I feel a lump forming in my throat. Tears, uninvited, start to well up in my eyes.

"I... I don't understand. Why would anyone want to hurt me?" I manage to say, my voice trembling.

Christian's hand moves from my cheek to gently cup my face. His eyes soften, reflecting a mix of sympathy and regret. "I wish I could shield you from all of this. I never wanted you to get caught up in my past."

Unable to hold back the overwhelming emotions any longer, I break down, tears streaming down my cheeks. Christian's arms encircle me in a comforting embrace, and he lets me release the pent-up pain and confusion.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "I'm here now, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Christian continues to hold me, his warmth and reassurance a lifeline in the midst of turmoil. The room, once foreign and disconcerting, now feels like a sanctuary where I can let my guard down.

We stay in that comforting embrace for a while, the silence between us filled with unspoken understanding. Christian's presence provides a sense of security, a refuge in the midst of uncertainty. Gradually, my tears subside, and I pull back, meeting his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, wiping away the remaining tears.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Christian says, his thumb brushing away a tear that escaped my notice. "This isn't your fault."

"But I feel so lost. I don't know who's after me or why," I admit, my voice wavering.

Christian takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and regret. "Victoria, there are things about my past, about who I am, that I've kept from you to protect you. But it's clear that the danger has found its way to you anyway."

I search his eyes for answers, a myriad of questions swirling in my mind. "What aren't you telling me, Christian?"

He hesitates, the weight of the unspoken truth evident in his gaze. "I used to be involved in things—dangerous things. The people who are after me now are remnants of that past. They want something from me, and by extension, from you."

My eyes widen with a mixture of shock and realization. "What kind of things? Who are they?"

"I can't go into details now, but I promise you, I'm doing everything in my power to protect you," Christian vows, gripping my hands.

I take a moment to process the gravity of the situation. "So, what do we do now?"

Christian's eyes reflect a resolute determination. "We face this head-on. We gather whatever information we can, and we don't let fear dictate our actions. I won't let anyone harm you."

As he speaks those words, a newfound strength resonates within me. Despite the turmoil, a sense of solidarity grows between us—a commitment to confront the challenges together. The storm outside may have subsided, but a different kind of storm awaits, and we'll navigate it side by side.

...