Page 250 of Unravelling The Beast

My face hardens as he continues.

“It won't stop here. You have made many enemies, Arlo. You're now putting your loved ones in danger, which is only what you deserve.”

My body trembles so violently that it's difficult for me to concentrate, yet I manage to speak with my jaw clenched.

“That better not have been a fucking threat to my family, you old fuck!”

“And what if it is?”

I turn the corner again as I hear him move, but this time he strikes me in the shoulder, temporarily knocking my arm back.

I dust it off and continue to fire rounds, attempting to hit him in the darkness as his shadow dashes across the vast area.

When my clip dries out, I notice him opening a back door before I sprint towards him. Once I get outside and the night air hits me, he is already in his car and speeding off.

I roar, then draw my fist back and punch the brick wall with power before laying my forehead against it and breathing heavily.

“FUCK!”

I feel a slight discomfort on my shoulder and glance down, realizing he has merely grazed it with a bullet.

When I hear police sirens in the far distance, I groan before strolling toward my car.

Driving home, I'm outraged because the fucker got away.

What the fuck is wrong with me? He was right there in front of me. How the fuck did I not kill him? I feel like I am off my fucking game, or maybe I underestimated him.

When I arrive at my house, I get out of the car and close the door behind me before strolling up the lengthy path.

I enter the front door with my hand over the wound on my shoulder, my blood trickling through my fingers. The house is dark, motionless, and peaceful as I make my way upstairs to my bathroom to retrieve a first-aid kit.

When I enter the bedroom, Wren is lying on her side on the bed, wearing one of my t-shirts, which appears enormous on her tiny frame. She's listening to her beats while staring at her phone, and as I draw her attention, she sits up swiftly before dragging her beats off her head.

Her gaze shifts to my bloodied hand on my shoulder, and when her startled eyes reach mine again quickly, my jaw tenses before I walk into the bathroom.

I reach up and open a cupboard as I stand at the bathroom counter, grabbing the box and placing it in front of me.

While opening the box, I cast a sidelong glance at her as she enters and carefully steps towards me. I start taking everything out of the box that I'll need to stitch the graze until she squeezes in front of me, climbing up onto the counter, and I remain motionless between her thighs.

She offers me an affectionate smile before beginning to unbutton my shirt. When she's finished, she softly stretches it over my shoulders. We maintain eye contact as she slides it down my arms until it lands at my feet.

She takes her gaze away from mine and takes a good look at the wound, and I watch her every move as she sighs before starting to prepare things.

“How did you do this?”

She doesn't look at me, still prepping, and I remain silent, my jaw tensing as I glance away.

“You're not going to tell me, no?”

Both of us look at each other now, and I speak firmly.

“What the fuck does it matter? I got shot; end of fucking story.”

Her eyebrows raise before she looks down at everything again.

“It matters to me, Arlo.”

“That fucking cop; happy?”

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