Page 54 of Undeniable

He doesn't say anything else, so I close my eyes and wait for sleep to take me.

Opening my eyes, I hear Jagger talking to someone in the other room. He sounds pissed, so I slowly make my way out of the bed and toward his voice. When I peek out of the bedroom, I see him pacing the living room with his phone to his ear and his other hand in his hair, tugging at the strands.

"You said this shit was taken care of." His voice is low and angry. I have a feeling he's talking about the people who are after Ridge. "The deal was for you to deal with it. I held up my end. Now you need to hold up yours."

Just as I turn to make my way back into the room, I bump into the table in the hallway and knock over a vase, sending it straight to the floor where it shatters into a bunch of tiny pieces. His attention swings toward me. He takes in the mess before holding a finger up.

"Just deal with it and let me know when it’s done,” he bites out before hanging up and walking toward me. He reaches out and lifts me up and over the broken glass. I'm thankful that I didn't step in any of it, then see blood dripping on the floor as he brings me into the kitchen and sits me down on the counter.

"I think I'm bleeding," I say quietly, not exactly sure how he is going to take the news of that. He looks down at the blood starting to pool on the floor under me. Cursing under his breath, he opens a drawer and grabs a towel to wrap around my foot.

"I swear, you are accident prone lately."

I frown and look down to where he is holding the bottom of my foot with the kitchen towel. Red is starting to seep through the material, and when he moves his hand, I yelp.

“Holy shit! What did you just do?” I cry out in pain. I hate being in pain, and that was pretty damn bad.

"You must have a piece of glass in your foot. Hold it up for me to see.”

I scoot back on the counter and hold my foot up. He takes the towel off, revealing the blood-stained skin underneath. I feel my stomach roll at the sight.

Jagger starts to press on the spot that seems to have blood oozing from it. I whine when he rubs what feels like a knife on my foot. "Stay right there,” he says, kissing my forehead before turning and walking away. I look down at my foot again and bite my lower lip.

When he comes back, he's got a pair of tweezers in one hand and some bandages in the other. He sets the bandages on the counter and picks up my foot, which is still bleeding. The dark color of the blood makes me nauseous. I wish he would be done already so he can bandage it up.

As he digs around for the piece of glass, I hold my breath and try not to look at it. It hurts so damn badly, I might cry. I just want it to be over with. The moment he pulls out the piece of glass, I feel like I could kiss him…if it weren’t for the fact I felt like I was going to pass out. Who knew my foot would bleed like a stuck pig.

“Bresin.” His voice is hard. "Babe, I need you to listen to me."

I vaguely remember nodding my head before darkness consumes me.

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