Carlton ✔

12| The Redhead's Condo

"Does it hurt a lot?"

I nodded this time.

"Don't worry, it'll be okay."

Even in this state, I felt a bit taken aback by the fact that Breanna Riley was talking to me so pleasantly and full of worry. Considering, we just had a fight a few hours ago on our little "date".

But it felt nice to have someone genuinely worry about me for a change.

She was getting several calls but for some reason, she kept canceling them.

I never kept a track of time, but I saw the bluish sky from the car windows. I saw birds and a handful of people on the roads, jogging.

It was probably a few hours before daybreak.

What an eventful night it was. I was almost impressed.

When we reached the supposed "home", as Breanna called it, I learned from her that it was an apartment she had rented temporarily.

She parked the car in the parking lot that was situated inside the building. Before getting out, she checked my wound again and continued to help me out of the car.

After going up five floors in the elevator, she helped me to her apartment door and led me in.

It wasn't exactly what I had expected. Her apartment was huge enough. It was aesthetically organized. Numerous bookshelves and artistic paintings covered the walls. Her living room had a balcony too.

Gently, she helped me sit down on her couch and leaned down to check my wound again. "The bleeding has stopped," she said before getting up and going somewhere inside the darkened apartment.

Closing my eyes, I did a couple of breathing exercises to settle my heartbeat.

I was in Breanna's house. She was staying here all these years. Fuck.

But what about Ray and Ace? Ray was shot too.

When Breanna returned, she was holding a tray full of first aid supplies and placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

She began wiping her wet hands with a towel. "Take your shirt off."

"What?"

"Take your shirt off," she repeated looking sternly into my eyes this time.

I hesitated a bit. If it was any other girl who had said that to me, I wouldn't waste another second. But it was Breanna.

I felt heat creep up to my cheeks. "We...could just go to a hospital."

"No!" She said, kneeling down on the floor in front of me, "We have to lay low."

There was no way out of that. So I unhurriedly removed my shirt, making sure not to disturb the wound while I did.

Leaning back on the couch, I removed the cloth covering the wound. Fortunately, the bleeding had stopped.

But I still had to squeeze my eyes shut every time it burned.

When I saw her wetting a cloth in a bowl of water, my heart jumped. This was going to hurt like hell.

Her face was full of concentration; her blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes. With a swift movement, she turned her head sideways to shake the hair away from her eyes.

I liked it when she did that.

Leaning upwards, she brought the cloth closer to my wound and began to clean it.