CHAPTER TWO: SHE DOESN'T BELONG HERE....
1618 Words
ADRIAN....
I woke up on a hospital bed.
For a moment, I didn’t even know where the hell I was. The white ceiling above me was too bright, the smell of medicine everywhere. My whole body hurt, sharp aches in my ribs, heavy pain in my chest. I tried to sit up but it felt like knives were stabbing through me.
Then it hit me. Last night. The fight. The bullets. That bastard who swore he’d kill me.
He almost did. Almost.
But I’m still here. I’m not dying, not until I take back what’s mine. I turned a little, my eyes scanning the table beside me. I needed my phone. Where the f**k was my phone? My hands shook as I searched. If I lost it… if someone found it...
“s**t…” I muttered under my breath. My chest burned with every move.
The door opened.
I stopped.
And then she walked in.
A girl. No, an angel. That’s what she looked like to me at first. Her skin was so pale it almost glowed under the light. Her hair was dark and silky, falling around her face as she moved. She wore a nurse’s uniform, simple and white, but on her it looked… soft, perfect.
And then there was her smile.
Bright. Warm. Like it didn’t belong in a cold place like this. For some reason, that smile made the pain in my body fade just a little.
“Oh, you’re awake. I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, coming closer.
Her voice was gentle, like a whisper you want to hear again.
I stared at her, hard. I didn’t know her, but at the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I did. Where had I seen her before? Why did just looking at her calm the storm in my chest?
She pulled out a pen and a little notepad. Her hands were small, steady.
“May I know your name, mister?” she asked.
She didn’t know. She had no idea who I was.
For a second, I almost told her the truth. But then I saw her smile again, soft and trusting. If she knew my real name, that smile would disappear. She’d be afraid of me like everyone else.
And f**k, for some reason… I didn’t want that.
“Pedro,” I said, my voice low. “Pedro Locca.”
The lie rolled off my tongue before I could stop it.
Her smile grew. “Pedro… I like that name. It reminds me of my late father.”
The way she said it, with that small softness in her eyes, it hit me. And that’s when I noticed the color of her eyes.
Blue. Not just blue, but icy blue, sharp and clear. Eyes that felt like they could see through me if I let her stare too long.
God. I wanted to wake up to those eyes. What the f**k was wrong with me?
“And yours?” I asked quickly, trying to cover up the thoughts running wild in my head.
“Elena,” she said. Then she smiled again, tilting her head a little. “But my friends call me Elyy.”
She glanced at the messy table where I had been searching like a madman. Then she reached into her pocket. My heart skipped when I saw what she pulled out.
My phone.
“I had to keep it,” she said softly, placing it down near me. “It might have gotten lost.”
Her smile again. Sweet. Innocent. Like she didn’t know how dangerous it was for her to even be standing this close to me.
I leaned back, my chest still aching, my head spinning, not from the pain, but from her.
She didn’t know me. She didn’t know the blood on my hands.
And maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop looking at her.
Elena
Her phone rang. The sound cut through the moment like a knife.
I watched her pull it from her pocket, and the second she looked at the screen, her whole face lit up. A bright smile, too bright, too damn warm, for whoever the f**k was calling her.
My chest tightened.
“I have to take this, sorry…” she said quickly, her voice soft but rushed as she jogged out of my room.
The door shut behind her. Silence.
And then it hit me.
A sharp thud in my chest, like my own heartbeat was trying to break out. Anger. Not the kind I could control. Something raw, ugly, burning.
Who the f**k was on the other end of that call? Who could make her smile like that, brighter than she’d smiled at me?
I clenched my fists, the pain in my ribs mixing with the fire in my blood.
“f**k…” I hissed, my jaw tight. “f**k… f**k!”
This wasn’t good. Not at all.
The way she stirred me, the way one smile from her could calm the storm inside me, and one smile for another man could tear me apart, it was dangerous.
I was already thinking too much about her. Already imagining her laugh, her eyes, her voice. That wasn’t me. I didn’t get soft for anyone.
But here I was, lying in a hospital bed, half broken, and all I could think about was her.
Elena.
This wasn’t good for her. Because when I get obsessed… I don’t let go.
And a girl like her, pure, fragile, too damn bright..
She didn’t need someone like me dragging her into the dark.
After a couple of days in the hospital, one of my trusted men finally showed up.
Ethel. My right-hand. My shadow. The one who cleaned up my mess when I couldn’t.
He leaned against the doorframe with that cocky grin of his.
“He got you again, didn’t he?” he said, tossing a folded T-shirt and sweatpants onto the bed like he was doing me a favor.
I glared at him as I peeled off the flimsy hospital clothes. My body ached with every move, but I wasn’t about to let him see weakness.
“I’m just glad I ended up here at all,” I muttered, tugging the shirt over my head. “Hell, I don’t even know how.”
Ethel smirked, that mocking tone back in his voice. “I paid off all your bills. And from what I heard, some girl dragged you in after you were begging her.. ‘help me,’ like some lost puppy.”
I froze mid-motion, staring at him.
“Watch your mouth.” My voice came out sharp, cutting.
He raised his hands in surrender, clearing his throat before bowing his head slightly. “Alright, alright. No jokes.”
I finished pulling on the sweatpants, jaw tight, then looked at him. “Who’s the girl?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Name’s Elena. She’s the one who saved your life.”
Elena.
The name rolled through my chest like thunder. So that’s where I knew her from, the face that calmed me when I opened my eyes, the voice that made me forget my pain.
Fuck. Now I was definitely obsessed.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, my fingers curling into my palm. “Get me everything about her,” I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Where she lives. Who she talks to. Her past. Everything.”
Ethel raised a brow but didn’t ask questions. He knew better than that.
This wasn’t curiosity anymore. It was fire. And once I burned for something… I never stopped until it was mine.
Just as I was about stepping out of the building, I heard someone call out.
“Pedro… Mr. Locca!”
That voice. Sweet. Calm. Soft enough to pull the weight off my shoulders for a second. My chest eased, my anger faded, and before I even knew it, my lips curved into a smile. A real one.
The little lady jogged up to me, her dark hair bouncing with every step. Elena.
I felt Ethel’s gaze burn into me, that damn smirk tugging at his lips. He was enjoying this way too much. I’d deal with him later.
“Hey…” I said, surprised at the warmth in my own voice. I smiled. I actually smiled.
Her eyes lit up at the sight. “I see you’re on your way out. Oh, is this your friend?” she asked, her hand stretching out toward Ethel.
Ethel, the polite bastard, took her hand with an easy grin. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah… yeah, he is,” I cut in quickly, the words coming out sharper than I wanted. For some reason, I couldn’t stand the thought of her attention on him for too long. “And I have to go.”
Her gaze lingered on me, soft, careful. She reached into her pocket and handed me a small folded paper. “Just make sure you come for your check-ups… twice a month, okay? I wrote it down for you.”
I took it slowly, staring at her neat handwriting, the little notes she added like she actually gave a damn about me. Nobody cared about me anymore. Not really. Not since my mother. Not since the world decided my name would always be followed by blood and bullets.
Except Ethel. And my sister. Now… her.
“He will,” Ethel’s voice cut in before I could say anything. He was rescuing me from the embarrassment of being speechless in front of her.
I shoved the paper into my pocket, pretending it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Not even close.
- Writer
