Page 16 of Hunter

I step forward, but I freeze when she makes another move to throw the pillow. Holding up my hands, I surrender. “No need to attack me again.”

As much as I’m relieved to see her fiery spirit return, I know better than to press my luck. I’m walking a tightrope here.

She eyes me, suspicious, as I move toward the door. “I’m leaving,” I say. “You can put down your…weapon.”

“Get out, Maxim.” Her teeth are clenched, and with one violent motion, she hurls the pillow at me with enough force that it hits me square in the face. I laugh, but then she falls back on the bed, and I hear a loud thud as her head connects with the headboard.

“Sophia?” I call, rushing to her side. “Are you okay?” I grab her arms, but she pushes me away, screaming at me to leave, calling me every name under the sun, begging me to go.

Respect her boundaries, Maxim.

“Okay,” I say, taking a couple of steps back, my heart hammering in my chest. She sits up, her red hair in a messy bun, but her face turns pale as she looks down at her leg.

I follow her gaze, and my stomach drops. Her leggings are stained with red. Fuck. Her stitches must have opened. I pull out my phone, dialing the nurse. “Sophia, put pressure on your leg. The nurse is on her way.”

I take a step toward her, instinctively wanting to protect her, but she glares at me, and I stop in my tracks.

“I said I’m fine. Now leave.”

“How can you say you’re fine when you’re fucking bleeding?” I growl, frustrated, but she opens her mouth to argue just as the nurse walks in.

“I said leave,” she repeats through gritted teeth.

“No.” I stand firm. “I’m not leaving until the bleeding stops.”

“I said fucking leave!” She points at the door, her voice rising in anger.

The nurse’s wide-eyed glance flicks back and forth between Sophia and me, her mouth opening but no words coming out. I can almost see her shaking, scared to speak. I try to contain the fury boiling inside, but it spills over, forcing me to step out of the room.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the wall, the pain barely registering as my mind replays every part of this fucked-up situation. Her eyes—dull, broken—flash in my mind, and I punch the wall again, the anger threatening to tear me apart. I want to force her to remember what we had and to let me help her through this, but all I’m doing is pushing her further away.

Give her time.

I rest my forehead against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. Pushing her won’t work. It will only drive her deeper into herself.

A gasp snaps me from my thoughts. I straighten up, turning to see the nurse eyeing my bloodied hand, her hesitation obvious. “Mr. Volkov, would you like me to bandage your hand?” she asks, voice trembling.

I glance down at my knuckles, surprised to see the bruises and blood. My body feels numb—like everything else inside me. “No,” I mutter, my irritation flaring as I think about the real problem. “Did the bleeding stop?” I ask the words too loud in the quiet hallway.

“Yes,” she responds softly, her voice barely a whisper. She looks at me with fear in her eyes, and I roll my own, not in the mood for more of this.

“Did her stitches open?”

She opens her mouth, closes it, and stands frozen, like she’s too terrified to answer. “I fucking asked you a question,” I snap, my frustration boiling over.

The nurse looks like she’s about to cry. She turns and hurries away, her sobs trailing behind her. I can’t even deal with this.

I turn back to my phone and fire off a message to Luca.

Find a new nurse. This one’s useless.

His reply comes almost instantly.

Does she really need a nurse when you’re constantly hovering like a mother hen? Don’t blame the poor nurse when you know no one will ever be good enough in your eyes to take care of her.

I stare at the screen, biting back my frustration. He’s right—no one is good enough to care for Sophia. That’s why I didn’t want him to pick the nurse in the first place. I put my phone on silent and shove it in my pocket. I don’t need distractions now. I need to focus on her. I walk back into her room, unsure of what to say. The last thing I want to do is make this worse, but I don’t know how to fix it.

Sophia’s voice breaks the silence. “Please let me go home.” She holds back tears, and I feel like a knife just twisted in my chest. I want to say no. I want to keep her safe, but deep down, I know this isn’t helping her heal. She needs to do this her way.

---