Playing With Fire | 18+

32| Bastard

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"Alex?" the name left her lips in almost a whisper. 

"Mio fottuto dio..." Alex started, gaze roaming her face desperately, "Ameena... what did those bastards..." he bent down, gently taking her out of Remy's hold.

Ameena laughed incredulously then, pausing to grimace as her good hand reached for his face. Her shoulders shook, unable to halt the fits of giggles that escaped her, tears brimming along her bloodied bottom lashes.

"She could be going into shock," Remi muttered from somewhere behind, "she needs to leave here."

The strength that had left her returned with a sudden, outrageous surge that nearly choked her own laughter which began to die.

Suddenly, she was no longer happy but livid. Staring at Alex's unshaven face, the start of crescent shadows beneath storm grey eyes.

He had not slept for days.

Good, she though indifferently. Then, as an afterthought to the events that finally settled on her shoulders, she lifted her uninjured palm and swung it hard.

The flash of brown was hardly discernible neither by Alex nor Remi. Her hand clapped on his left cheek, the impact snapping his face sideways.

The stinging sensation hurt like a goddamn bitch and she cradled it to her chest, now seething at Alex's stunned expression. His bronze skin was blooming red.

"You sure took your sweet little time," she grounded out, glaring up at him through tear filled eyes.

Everything she felt for the past hours was slamming into her like the impact from a huge tsunami wave. As happy as she was to see him, she couldn't ignore how the other huge side of her felt.

He was the one that got her into this mess.

She was living a sweet mundane life, had an amazing best friend, mediocre job, middle class apartment. Everything was normal, safe.

Yet he slammed into it like a wrecking ball, smashing everything to smithereens and now here she was.

Almost raped, assaulted, her fingers broken, seeing that psycho racist bitch again, his bigoted racist family, the fucking mafia he failed to talk about until she had fallen too hard and too deep to back out.

His face slowly swiveled around back to her, eyebrows still raised high, almost disapearing into his hairline.

His eyes then snapped to the person behind her. Remy coughed awkwardly.

"Clear a path for us," he finally spoke, eyes meeting hers once more. They didn't move from hers even as he held out the shotgun to Remy. He withdrew another much smaller gun from its holster passing it to Remy who took it as quick as possible before speed walking away.

They hardly noticed him. Both staring at each other. The atmosphere around them tensed as electric currents sparked intensely.

"I told you not to leave me alone, Alex." Ameena was the first to break the tensed silence, more than angry at his calm demeanor.

The silence drew it longer than she felt comfortable, his staring down whilst she glared up, neither willing to speak.

He made his move towards her then, taking one brave step closer. His hand coming up to touch her cheek, a thumb wiping away the stray tear she didn't realize was leaking from her eyes.

Ameena remained firm in her stance, jaw gritting as more tears spilled, patiently swiped away by his gentle thumbs.

She was angry with him right now, very angry. As relieved she as she was to see him, she couldn't help but be mad he didn't come sooner. Or better yet, not drag her into the situation that left her with two broken fingers.