Chapter 15 - The Scars We Hide
The thwack of bullets biting into solid wood was relentless.
Glass rained down around them like frozen knives. Julian had thrown his body entirely over Josie’s, shielding her head and torso with his broad frame. She could hear his harsh, controlled breathing against her ear, the sudden warmth of something wet soaking through the sleeve of her gown.
"Stay down!" Julian commanded, his voice tight.
From the dark corridor outside, gunfire erupted as Julian’s private security responded. Shouts in Italian, the deafening cracks of automatic rifles, and the thud of bodies hitting the hallway floor echoed through the mansion.
Julian didn't wait. He drew his weapon, leaned out from behind the mahogany barrier, and fired three precise shots through the shattered window into the terrace beyond. A heavy grunt, followed by the clatter of a rifle and the sickening sound of a body plunging into the stone fountain below, signaled his mark.
Silence rushed back in, punctuated only by the howling wind and the torrential rain whipping through the ruined windows.
"Dante!" Julian roared.
"Clear! Floor is clear, boss!" Dante’s voice came from the hallway, panicked and breathless. "The power lines were severed from outside. It was a strike team."
Emergency red floodlights flickered to life along the baseboards.
Julian slowly pushed himself up. Josie scrambled to her knees, her hands frantic as she searched him.
"Julian, you’re hit," she breathed, her voice cracking.
His white dress shirt was ruined, crimson blooming rapidly across his left shoulder and side. Blood dripped steadily from his fingers onto the shattered glass.
"A graze," he lied, his face tightening with pain as he leaned against the vanity. "Get Dante."
"No," Josie said, her voice dropping all panic and replacing it with pure, stubborn authority. "Sit down. Dante needs to secure the perimeter and check on Poppy. I know how to patch a wound."
Julian looked at her, his dark eyes burning with fever and shock. "Josie—"
"Sit down, Julian!"
She tore the bottom hem of her silk slip, using it to apply brutal pressure to the gash on his side. Julian hissed between clenched teeth, his head dropping back against the wall, but he didn't push her away.
As she worked in the eerie red light, cleaning the bullet graze and binding his torso with surgical tape from the master bath, Josie found herself staring at the map of violence etched into his skin. Old knife scars, bullet exit wounds, jagged lines of survived betrayals.
"How many times have people tried to kill you?" she whispered, her hands trembling as she wiped the blood from his ribs.
Julian looked down at her. His hand came up, stained with his own blood, and gently touched the side of her face. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, capturing a stray tear she hadn't realized she had shed.
"Too many," he murmured, his voice thick with raw, intoxicating intimacy. "Until tonight, I never cared if they succeeded."
Josie froze, her breath mingling with his in the cold, rain-swept room. For a second, the entire universe shrank to the space between their lips.
May you like
Then, heavy footsteps approached the doorway, breaking the spell.
***
