Chapter 9: Mercy’s Bullet
1305 Words
The silence between them was deafening.
Sky’s breath hitched as she clutched the edge of the kitchen counter, the cheap fluorescent light above flickering like it, too, was anxious. Maddox sat across the tiny space, bandages peeling slightly from his side, where she’d stitched him up. Again.
“You really attract bullets like flies to a sugar cube,” she muttered, not looking at him.
“Better than attracting bad decisions,” he replied smoothly, his voice rough but too calm for someone with a fresh bullet wound. “Oh wait—guess we’re both guilty.”
“Do you want a cookie for that revelation, Mr. Sin?” she shot back, finally facing him.
Maddox smirked. That maddening smirk. The kind that said I’ve been through hell and still came back for dessert.
“You baked?”
Sky threw a dishrag at him. “You’re impossible.”
He caught it mid-air, wincing slightly from the movement. “And you’re terrifying. Imagine saving a man’s life and then threatening him with antibacterial wipes.”
“I warned you. Gunshot wounds mean no sass.”
“You stitched me up like I was your little brother’s ragdoll.”
“Well, you were bleeding like one.” She crossed her arms. “Are we going to talk about what happened, or are we just going to pretend it was a drive-thru paintball mishap?”
Maddox leaned back—gingerly. “You really want to know?”
“I just dragged a half-conscious mob target into my studio apartment and played nurse with my last pack of gauze. I think I deserve something.”
He sighed. His eyes—stormy and guarded—settled on her face.
“There was a man. Darius. A cleaner for one of the families. He saw something he wasn’t supposed to and ran. I was supposed to find him and bring him back.”
“Alive?”
“Preferably.” His jaw tightened. “But he didn’t want to be found. He had backup. That backup had a gun. I caught the bullet instead of him.”
“Sounds like your plan worked flawlessly.”
He grunted. “I was losing too much blood. I wasn’t going to make it.”
Sky swallowed. “So you came back here.”
“You patched me up once,” he said simply. “I figured you’d do it again.”
A pause. Something hung between them. An unspoken thread of recognition. Something… pulling tighter with every second.
She cleared her throat. “And now what?”
“Now?” He shrugged—again, carefully. “Now we wait.”
“For what?”
“For the fallout.”
“Why do I feel like that word never means good things around you?”
“It doesn’t.”
She moved to the sink, washing her hands even though they were already clean. Just something to do. Something to keep from unraveling. She hadn’t slept properly in days. Her apartment smelled like antiseptic and burnt toast. Her life was a tangled knot of adrenaline and confusion, and sitting on her lumpy couch was a man who probably had a kill count.
And yet…
She wasn’t afraid.
That scared her more than anything.
“So what’s your end game, Maddox?” she asked quietly, her back to him.
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Right now? Stay alive.”
She turned to look at him. “And after that?”
Another long pause. Then he said, “After that… I don’t know.”
His honesty cracked something in her. Sky bit her bottom lip, suddenly aware of how close he was again. Of how the air shifted when he looked at her for too long. Of how her heart acted like it had no business in her chest anymore.
She needed distance. She needed clarity. She needed—
A knock.
Both of them froze.
Three soft, rhythmic knocks.
Sky’s blood ran cold. Maddox’s eyes narrowed.
She mouthed: Are you expecting someone?
He shook his head once.
She tiptoed toward the door, but Maddox was faster—despite the pain—already reaching for the gun she hadn’t even seen tucked behind the flour tin on the shelf.
“Wait,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest. “Let me handle it. If it’s just my nosy neighbor, you’ll only make things worse.”
He looked like he wanted to argue. Then, reluctantly, he lowered the weapon.
Sky adjusted her oversized hoodie to hide the sweatpants stained from Maddox’s blood, wiped her palms on them, and cracked open the door.
A girl stood there. Younger than her. Big brown eyes. Nervous energy.
“Hi, um—sorry, I know this is weird,” the girl said quickly, “but I—I heard something. Like yelling. Or something crashing.”
Sky blinked. “It’s just my blender.”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry—I just thought—um. Never mind.” The girl glanced behind Sky. “You live alone, right?”
Sky’s heart skipped.
“Yeah,” she said too quickly. “I do. Thanks for checking in.”
The girl nodded, stepping back. “Right. Okay. Stay safe.”
Sky shut the door slowly. Locked it. Double locked it. Then turned around.
“She knew,” she whispered. “She looked like she knew.”
“She’s not the threat,” Maddox said calmly, though his eyes said otherwise.
“No. But someone sent her.”
He didn’t respond. Just stood there, rigid, calculating.
Sky stared at him. “You need to go.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. Maddox, if someone tracks you here—”
“They already have.”
Her knees weakened slightly. “Then why are we still standing here?!”
“Because if we run now, we’ll lead them right to the hospital. To your friends. Your life.”
Sky’s brain was moving too fast. She paced. “What do we do then? Wait to be ambushed?”
“No.” Maddox looked at the window. “We send a message.”
She stared at him like he’d grown another head. “A message? What are you gonna do, post a Yelp review for their assassination attempt?!”
Maddox stepped forward. “Trust me.”
Sky hated how her body reacted when he said that. Hated the flutter in her chest. Hated that even now, part of her trusted him. A part of her that had no business feeling anything except get out while you can.
But she nodded.
“I’ll call a contact,” he said. “Someone off-grid. She owes me a favor.”
“Not another mafia princess, I hope.”
He grinned. “No. This one prefers explosives.”
“Great. Just what my week was missing.”
But she didn’t stop him.
⸻
By nightfall, the plan was set.
They’d leave at midnight. Take the back alley, steal a ride, and head to an old safehouse outside town. Maddox said it was untraceable.
Sky didn’t ask how he knew that.
She just packed a bag. Just in case.
He watched her from the couch, eyes softer than usual. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“What, pack? I’m a champion packer. Won a trophy in middle school.”
“I mean all of it. Help me. Stay. Risk this.”
Sky swallowed. “You think I did it for you?”
He tilted his head.
“I did it for me,” she said. “Because the second I saw you bleeding out, I knew… if I let you die, it’d haunt me. No matter who you are.”
He blinked. And for once, had nothing to say.
⸻
But the quiet didn’t last.
At 11:43 PM, the window shattered.
- Writer
