Satyriasis - ja.benn ☆ (18+) ✔️

Day Nine

"How come I can't see it?" I ask, leaning on his shoulder.

"Because we all have screwed up pasts," Jamie explains to me. "and your past caused you to lose trust."

"I trust people perfectly fine."

"I can see your doubt when you meet anyone."

"Meaning?" I raise a brow. Sure, I have doubts but I can't possibly have that much doubt.

"You had a look of nervousness when you first saw Tyler, Katie and me in the elevator," he tells. "I knew you didn't trust me at first."

He's not wrong. But he's not completely correct. I trusted him, but, just like anyone, I had my doubts. If you asked me now, I'd say that I could give Jamie my credit card information without a heartbeat. That's how much trust I've grown with him.

I'd be lying if I said I don't have any sort of attraction toward him. If anything, I've fallen for him. I never planned on fancying Jamie in the first place let alone having sex with him.

"In the beginning, you made me extremely nervous," I admit. "so I wouldn't say I didn't trust you."

"Does that mean you were lying when you said you weren't scared of me?" he questions. I shake my head quickly.

"I wasn't scared at all," I respond. "it's just, I don't know how to explain this..."

Jamie presses his lips to my forehead. He stares at me, searching my face for any answers or things that I am keeping from him. But that's the thing, I can't keep secrets from him. He's already seen me naked so what's the point in keeping my deepest and darkest secret from him.

"I guess it was the fact that I knew I had to get you since day one," I remark.

-

My feet stop dead in their tracks as I see a man holding a gun to the window at a store just dead ahead of me. I tip toe to the side, hiding so I don't get seen.

I quickly pull out my phone and my fingers shakily type in '911'. It doesn't take long for the dispatcher to answer.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

In a hushed voice, I explain the situation and tell the dispatcher my location and very suddenly, I hear a gunshot. A split second afterward, I'm doubled over in pain, blood seeping from my leg and between my fingers.

I open my mouth, whimpering and I choke out a few swears before police cars pull up at both corners on either side of me. Officers pounce out of them and the alley is swarmed with them. The shooter is surrounded and he tries to climb his way up an icy ladder but quickly fails as his leg gets tased. A paramedic wheels a gurney over to me and they lay me on it. I'm wheeled back over to the ambulance and I feel myself drifting off.

"Hook her up," a woman says urgently before I pass out.

The next time I'm conscious, I'm laying in a bed, a bag of blood hanging above me, connected into my arm. I look to the right and see my mom, brother, and aunt. A doctor is talking with them and I just barely hear him tell the three how I had lost a lot of blood from the gun shot wound.

The doctor steps over to me and eyes my calf skeptically.

"Doctor Magrano," a nurse steps into the room. "she has a few visitors."