Page 21 of Righteous Enforcer
Relief floods through me. I’ve got a temporary reprieve, time to think. "Thank you."
When I start to walk, my legs wobble.
Adriano's there instantly, strong arm wrapping around my waist.
I inhale sharply at his touch as memories of the way he held me so gently, reverently, flood back.
"I can walk," I protest weakly, gripping Mirabella’s hand, wishing I could pick her up and run again.
"Like hell you can." He practically carries me, my feet barely touching the ground as we leave the alley.
Mirabella observes him with quiet intensity.
Her ability to watch and assess at such a young age is a survival trait I wish she'd never needed to develop.
She’s wary but not afraid, as she usually is of most strangers.
Does something inside her know that she’s a part of him?
The pharmacy is nearly empty when we arrive.
Adriano sets me in a chair in the closed quick clinic area, then gathers first aid supplies.
He sets everything on the counter along with several hundred-dollar bills.
"Keep the change," he says, turning to me as if he expects me to have run off. I would have, but at the moment, I can’t.
Ten minutes later, we're seated in an outside area of a small café.
Adriano positions us in a corner where he can see from all directions.
Mirabella sits beside me, coloring on a paper placemat with crayons the waitress brought over.
"I'll do it myself," I insist as Adriano reaches for the antiseptic wipes. My fingers brush his, and even that fleeting contact sends electricity coursing through me.
"You'll miss half your cuts." He pulls my hand toward him, ignoring my protest. "Hold still."
I bite my lip as he cleans a deep gash on my palm, his touch impossibly gentle despite the hardness in his eyes.
This is what I fear most, his tenderness.
These small moments of care are more dangerous to my resolve to run than any threat could ever be.
Mirabella watches him with curiosity.
When Adriano pulls out a butterfly bandage for my eyebrow, she scoots her chair closer to his, peering at his work.
"Does it hurt?" she asks.
"Just a little," I answer.
Adriano's hands pause. "Your mama is very brave."
Mirabella nods solemnly. "The bad men keep finding us."
I close my eyes briefly. My daughter shouldn't know about bad men or hiding or running.
"Why are they after you?" Adriano asks, voice low and controlled as he applies antiseptic to a cut on my forearm. The sting makes me wince, but he holds my arm steady. "What could they possibly want with you?"
