Always Together

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Chapter 39

Alec’s POV

Watching fear in people’s eyes is something that never bothered me. However, the same fear when I saw in Avery’s eyes, created an unsettling emotion inside me. I hate seeing the terrified look in her eyes, even though her fear was associated with the thought of losing someone.

The wounded expression that appeared on her face which she was quick enough to mask, but still, not quick enough to hide from me, makes me hate myself. As somewhere I am the one, who placed that expression on her beautiful face.

How was I any different from her? I also reacted without thinking when I was accusing her, for the same thing. But what I did hurt her. I was angry said things which I shouldn’t have and made her relive the pain which she has kept buried inside her.

From the moment I have met her, I knew, she always keeps her true self hidden. But today I realized, behind all that uncaring and reckless attitude, how much vulnerable my Firefly is. I can’t shake the image of a nine-year-old Avery feeling lost and scared, blaming herself for something she could do nothing about.

I want to protect that Avery... the real Avery, and keep her safe and away from every pain.

For that, first I have to make sure that nobody gets away with hurting her. I think it is time, that I pay someone my due visit.

The sound of my footsteps bounces back from the walls of the narrow hallway which leads to the room where we normally deal with nuisances. But today that room holds a person whom I want to tear slowly and painfully. This area is completely separate from the main area of the building, and only a handful of people are allowed to access this part.

Muffled voices of my men can be heard as I near the door which dies down as soon as I enter the room. Straightening their position they greet me with a nod, as always the atmosphere in this room is tense.

Sitting behind the desk, I watch the wimp, in another room which is divided by a one-way mirror wall, screaming expletives in the empty room. A smirk forms on my face when I assess the damage this girl has done, that too, even matter of a few minutes.

A feeling of pride engulfs my chest when I recall how unflinchingly she has not only disarmed him but beat him to the point where he was almost unconscious. A delay of a few minutes more then without a doubt she would have deported this bastard to hell.

I was not the only one who was stunned, however, everyone else, present there was also too shocked even to breathe. You can’t blame them, not every day you will witness an innocent-looking girl beating someone black and blue.

Firefly, you surprise me every day.

However, this feeling is nowhere close to the fury which is brewing inside me since the moment he has held a gun on her. For the first time in my life, I was scared at the sight of a gun. But that stupid girl was not even slightly bothered whereas my blood ran cold when I saw the gun directed towards her.

A voice that reaches my ears, snaps me out of my thoughts, flaring my anger to the sky.

“Let me out of here, that bitch will have to pay for this, I swear she will not be able to walk for weeks once I will be done with her,” bastard yells.

“Motherfucker!” Henry seethes.

Henry takes care of the security of the Battleground so he, being pissed with Maddox is obvious.

“Call Fernandez and ask him to fix him up,” I calmly say, as I lean back on my chair, my jaws muscles ticking in anger.

“Why?” Henry looks at me in disbelief, when I ask for the doctor for him. My eyes turn to him and I arch an eyebrow at him, for questioning me. He quickly nods and calls the infirmary for the doctor.

“Patch him up, then tie his hands and blindfold him,” I order Fernandez as soon as he comes.

I like my canvas clean, but Avery has already painted it black and blue. So, I have to compromise, by fixing it as much as it is possible.

The moment Fernandez enters, what-we-call, fun room, he slaps Maddox for screaming. Fernandez is not your usual sympathetic doctor, he has his own ways to deal with his patients. His good doctor’s side only comes out when he is mostly dealing with patients in infirmary or people he likes. Other than that his patience level with people is very low. You can easily pass him off as a bouncer rather than a doctor.

For the fifteen minutes, we only hear Maddox pain-filled screams as Fernandez not so gently fixes him up.

“Broken nose and dislocated shoulder fixed, five stitches on the cheek, and bruised ribs can heal on its own, I am not going to fucking give him cold compresses,” Fernandez starts speaking when he comes outside the room.

Removing my wristwatch I keep on the desk, as I stand up from the chair. Silently, I walk into the fun room and stare at Maddox, who is sitting on the chair with blindfolds and tied hands, completely unaware of my presence.

How many times did he threaten her to shoot? Two times or three times?

Holding the back of his head, I slam it against the table three times, then again one more time because I actually enjoyed his scream following the by a thud sound. His loud scream fills the room, giving me satisfaction, but this is just the beginning.

“Who is it? Who is it?” He yells frantically moving his head from side to side, blood dripping from his newly fixed nose which is now again broken.

When a person’s senses are cut off, it builds a new sense of fear inside him, fear of unknown. Although it is almost psychological, it can be torturous than any physical pain. And here he is experiencing both.

He tries to stand up from the chair, probably attempting to move away from his assaulter. But I harshly grab his face, digging my fingers, holding him in his place. Ripping off the band-aid covering his stitches, I yank his stitches by hooking my finger in them which splits open his cut. His agonizing cry resonates throughout the room, while I wipe my hands with the hand towel placed on the table. Because I don’t like to get my hands dirty.

He falls on the floor and scurries away, from where I am standing, and keep on dragging himself on the floor until he reaches the corner of the room. Shaking my head, I silently sigh pitying him for trying to hurt the wrong person.

Walking to him, I lean down and untie his hands and stretch his arm. Then slamming my foot on his shoulder I dislocate it again.

“Who are you? And why are you doing this?” He cries holding his shoulder with his other hand, on the verge of passing out.

Even though I am nowhere done with him, but thinking this much lesson should be enough for him. I land a final punch on his temple, only knocking him unconscious.

“Clean the room,” I order when I walk into the adjacent room, where my men are.

Now, I have to make things right with Avery by apologizing to her and earn my friend back whom I have almost lost by hurting her feelings.

God, Avery, things I do for you.

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