Chapter 256
His strong hand pinned her wrist against the pillow.
Winter lost her balance and fell back onto it.
She met Chris’s dark, stormy eyes. There was something churning in them, like black clouds gathering before a storm. Her dark red blood was still smeared across his left cheek, and there was something almost frighteningly obsessive about him.
In a low, hoarse voice, he said, “Let me treat it first p>
Winter yanked hard at her hand, but he wouldn’t let go. She lifted her leg and tried to kick him, only for his other hand to clamp down on her thigh.
That position forced him over her. His broad shoulders blocked out half the light, and with the backlight behind him, his features looked darker and harsher.
Again, in that low voice, he said, “Let me treat it first p>
“You had the nerve to shoot at me, so don’t bother treating my wound.” Winter’s eyes were still painfully red. “ What a shame, Chris. Aren’t you supposed to be such a good shot? Back on the helicopter, you were so far away and still blew the kidnapper’s head off. So why did your aim go bad when it came to me? Why didn’t you just kill me with one shot p>
The more she spoke, the sharper her words became, though her throat was already tightening with emotion.
Winter’s mocking voice suddenly rose. “If Skyla can’t kill me, then you do it. The two of you can finish me off together. Wouldn’t that make the perfect ending p>
The hand gripping her wrist trembled slightly from the force of it. Chris looked at her with something even stronger than anger in his eyes.
“I won’t kill you. ”
She struggled again, but Chris only held on tighter. He dragged her into his arms and looked at the wet redness at the corners of her eyes. A coldness spread across his sharp face, inch by inch.
Ignoring everything she said, he only repeated himself, his voice even lower this time.
“Let me treat it first p>
“No.” Winter’s eyes were full of dark hatred. “I’m leaving p>
But Chris held her against him and wouldn’t let her pull away.
The cotton swab in his hand was still wet with medicine. He lowered his eyes to the split in the web of her hand, and his expression darkened. Then he carefully ran the swab along the edge of the wound.
When he finished applying the medicine, Chris glanced at the floor.
The gauze had already fallen to the ground and was soaked and stained by the spilled iodine, so it couldn’t be used.
Keeping one hand locked around Winter’s wrist, he pulled out his phone with the other and made a call.
“ Bring in another roll of gauze p>
Less than a minute later, Gavin knocked and came in with the gauze.
+25 Bonus
“Mr. Xander.” He handed it over, then glanced at the mess on the floor.
He bent down, put everything back onto the tray, and wiped up the spilled iodine with a fresh piece of gauze. In the time it took him to bend down once, the whole mess was gone.
Then Gavin left, and the bedroom door closed again.
Chris held the gauze in one hand and used his thumb to work open the edge. He pressed down on Winter’s hand, then slid his grip to her fingers, holding them steady along the slight curve of the bones in her wrist. He wrapped the gauze around the split between her thumb and index finger, one careful layer after another, not too tight and not too loose.
At the end, he tied a knot.
The second Winter saw the knot on the back of her hand, a bitter ache spread through her chest.
Four years ago, after Chris regained his sight, the first thing he saw was her accidentally cutting her index finger while chopping vegetables. She had slapped a Band–Aid on it without even putting medicine on it.
At the Xander estate, she had gotten used to hiding her injuries. She never wanted to trouble anyone.
But Chris had grabbed her hand and dressed the wound himself, then wrapped it in gauze.
Back then, his face had looked just as expressionless as it did now, maybe even a little dark. And he had tied the exact same knot.
But at the time, Skyla had said Chris was her boyfriend. Winter had even asked Chris about it back when he was still blind, and he hadn’t denied it. So when he wrapped her wound that day, all she had felt was bitter, aching pain.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.