Page 18 of Love and War

You are being completely childish.

You stupid bitch!

I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. I hate you!

Leave me alone!

Delivered

Rolling my eyes, I delete all of Holly’s texts as I continued driving down the street. Ever since I made her leave my house four days ago, she’s been non-stop calling or texting me. Sometimes even both. Begging me to contact Luca. I refused. No matter how much she may beg, plead for him, I wouldn’t do it.

He’s a monster. And deserved to rot in hell.

I just hoped Salem put him there before she found out who I really was. I hated lying to her, I hated that I couldn’t tell her the truth. Every time I looked at her, I thought about the fact that the sperm donor, the guy who knocked my mother up, murdered my best friend's family. That he slaughtered them just because her mother ran from him.

She would never forgive me. She’d hate the fact that I was half of that monster. I could barely stand the fact myself. And to ask Salem to move on from it? To just accept the fact her best friend had a father who killed her family. Her siblings, the little boy that never got the chance to survive.

I hated myself for it. I kept this a secret for thirteen years, and I would continue to keep it a secret. She wouldn’t know about Luca or Holly. Or the fact that I knew more about the Italian mafia than what was read on the screen.

She didn’t even know that I knew Killian.

That he was the man I’d been in love with since I was a child.

I still hadn’t dealt with what to do about him being here. Every time I saw him, I ran. I ran for the damn hills, like he was the freaking devil. In a way he was, he made me feel things. He brought me back to the safe space, where I could tell him anything no matter what a crazy idea it was. Killian was the one I went to when I needed a shoulder to cry on, when I needed to escape the hell my aunt was putting me through. He was my best friend. He was also the one who held my heart.

Before he smashed it and left me.

“Shit,” I uttered as my fingertips began to become numb. I was trying my best to ignore the constant thirst I was beginning to have, the little trembles my body was having. But when my vision began to blur, I pulled over, turning the car off.

As quickly as I could, I opened my bag. Pricking my ring finger, I held it to the test. Waiting, 4,3,2…1.

57 mg/dL.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” My voice shook as I searched around for the apple juice I knew I grabbed. My body began to sweat as I emptied my bag, finding nothing.

“Shi…” my voice slurred. This was bad. Very very bad. I needed that juice. I reached for the glove box when I felt someone brush my leg.

“Aziza?” Of course it was him. I didn’t have the energy for him. I literally had no energy in me, my blood sugar was reaching the danger point. I couldn’t believe I let myself go like this. I knew from a young age, never forget my diabetic bag, always have two juices and a few snacks.

“Killian, my-my…” I could barely whisper, my words slurring as I sat back against the seat.

“Fuck, do you have anything in your car or bag?”

Shaking my head, my eyes fluttered closed as I tried focusing on my breathing.

“Hold on.” His lips brushed against my forehead. I wanted to laugh and tell him it wasn’t like I could go anywhere. If I moved, I’d probably pass out, and if I did, I would have another problem on my hands.

I don’t how long had passed until I felt the brush of his knuckles on my cheek. “Come on, moya Printsessa.” Unsure of what he wanted I slowly opened my eyes. “Take some sips.” I could feel something cool against my lips. I could’ve moaned in pleasure from the taste of the apple juice once it hit my tongue. Slowly he helped me drink the rest of the small bottle of juice, rubbing small circles on my shin, relaxing the muscles there.

Intertwining our fingers, he spoke softly, “Is your kit in there? Squeeze my hands once for yes, twice for no.” Squeezing his hands once, my heart might have forgiven him for everything he’d ever done wrong to me. Ever since he found out I had type 1 diabetes, he had always made sure I was checking my blood sugar. That I had supplies when I needed them.

I don’t know how long we sat there like this. Killian kneeling down beside the driver’s side door, holding my hand. His other hand rubbing and gently massaging my shin. The small touches caused my heart to skip, tightening.

Slowly I felt him pull away, almost too soon. I wanted to protest, but it was then I felt him reaching inside to the passenger side.

“What hand did you use last time?”

Raising my left slightly, I finally opened my eyes. Killian wasn’t staring at me, for what felt like the first time. Instead he was wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe before setting up my glucose strip. Grabbing my right hand he glanced up at me, “Three, two...one.” Pricking my ring finger he held it to the test. I watched as he locked eyes on me, bringing my finger to his mouth before sucking it into his mouth.

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