Page 20 of Tainted Obsession 1

I grunt a curse and press a hand to my ribs, hissing out a pained breath at the contact.

“Oh my god!” she exclaims, her cheeks going white as she stares at the blood on my hand.

“You’re hurt!” She’s clearly upset by the sight of my insignificant wound.

“I’m fine.” I try to reassure her, but her delicate features are pinched with something close to panic.

“We have to get you to a hospital.”

She grabs my other hand and tries to tug me toward the door. I stand firm, not so much as swaying in her white-knuckled grip.

“You’re staying right here,” I admonish. “It’s not safe for you out there.”

She rounds on me, her lush lips pinched with determination. “Then I’ll stay at the safe house without you. You need to see a doctor right now.”

Her chin lifts, and she seems to grow a few inches taller as she tries to stare me down.

Despite the pain in my side, my lips curve. She’s cute when she’s being fierce, especially on my behalf.

No one ever cares when I’m hurt, especially not when the injury is so minor. My friends would worry if I were bleeding out, but for this little graze, they’d tell me to sort myself out without complaint. They’d do the same for themselves.

We all learned how to patch ourselves up during the violent, thrilling years of our youth inLe Vele di Scampia, one of the poorest neighborhoods in Naples.

“I don’t need a doctor. I can handle this myself,” I tell her, my voice sure and even.

She’s being brave, but I can tell she’s spooked from seeing the blood on me; she’s not accustomed to the aftermath of violence like I am.

I don’t bother correcting her about the fact that we’re not at a safe house. I’ll figure out how to deal with that particular misconception soon. For now, I need to stop the bleeding that’s upsetting her so much.

Her eyes narrow, fierce and defiant. “If you won’t go to the hospital, at least call for a medic to come help you.”

I take a moment to consider her. Despite her firm demeanor, she’s still shaken. Her cheeks are too pale, and her pupils are dilated with fear.

Fear for me?

My chest warms at the prospect.

“All right,dolcezza,” I capitulate.

She won’t be soothed until I’m cleaned up, so I’ll do what’s necessary to calm her.

Duarte has a private physician, and I’m sure our host won’t begrudge me seeking treatment. He might have questions about how I’ve been injured, but that’s a worry for later. All that matters now is erasing the strain from Evelyn’s pinched features.

I retrieve my phone from my pocket and tap out a quick text to Gian, explaining what I need. His reply comes within seconds.

On our way.

My gut tightens.Shit.

Of course, my friends think I’m gravely injured since I’ve asked them to call a doctor. Now, I’ll have to deal with the brothers’ questions, and I’ll also have to navigate this situation with Evelyn. They won’t be happy that I brought her here, and they’ll be even more displeased that I failed to kill Crawford.

I’ve made a fucking mess tonight, and I have no idea how to clean it up.

All I know is that Evelyn isn’t going anywhere. I won’t let her out of my sight until Crawford is dead, the threat to her eliminated.

I take another moment to study her. The ruined t-shirt that swallows her delicate frame must belong to Crawford, smothering her in his scent. It irritates me even more than the sight of blood on her pure body.

My stomach sours with undeniable jealousy. I barely recognize the emotion, and it makes me edgy.