Chapter 32

‘I handled it fine.’ I murmur swinging my leg off the couch and onto the floor.

‘Thank God she stitched you up nicely.’ he remarks.

‘What happened?’ I ask almost confused about what he was talking about.

‘Emma.’ Marco emphasizes. ‘She took care of your wound.’

Right. I remember her in-between my legs, her hands on my face, moving gently and carefully, she treated me like a porcelain doll, her cold hands touch my chest, my tattoo.

‘I see that you remember.’ Marco adds, he was no longer in the leather jacket he wore earlier when we left the house.

‘I heard you talking to someone who is...