Chapter 7: He’s Gone?.

The apartment falls into an uneasy silenc even as the rain drums steadily against the windows, the sound almost soothing if not for the stranger stretched across my dining table and the blood-stained gauze littering my floor.

I let out a quiet breath.

"I’ll get you some water."

No response. Not that I expected one at this point.

I disappear into the kitchen and return a moment later with a glass of water.

His eyes follow me as I set the glass beside him.

"Drink."

He doesn’t move.

"You’ll dehydrate."

Nothing.

"You really enjoy making everything difficult, don’t you?"

His jaw flexes and looking at him it looks like he’s burning up so I reach for the thermometer in my first-aid kit.

"I’m checking your temperature."

"No."

"I’m not asking."

Another one of those unreadable stares.

I gently place the digital thermometer beneath his tongue.

He glares at me the entire time.

Three seconds later...A shrill beep echoes through the apartment, i pull it out and My eyes widen.

"Oh..."

I look at him.

Then back at the thermometer.

"You’ve got a fever. Not just a little one either."

His breathing has become heavier than before. Tiny beads of sweat gather along his temples despite the cool air inside the apartment.

Without thinking, I reach forward. The back of my hand pressing against his forehead.

I almost yank it away.

"What the..."

He’s burning, hs skin feels like it’s on fire.

"No wonder you’re sweating."

I sigh.

"The bullet isn’t your only problem."

His eyes remain fixed on the ceiling.

"You need antibiotics."

"No."

I blink.

"You didn’t even think about it."

"I said No."

I fold my arms.

"Do you ever say yes to anything?"

His eyes drift toward me.

"No."

I stare at him and fr one ridiculous second i seriously consider throwing it at his head.

"You are impossible."

I mumble as I disappear into my tiny bathroom again. The first-aid kit isn’t exactly hospital-grade, but I manage to find a box of fever tablets I’d bought months ago after catching the flu.

It’s Still sealed. Thank God.

I return and shake two tablets into my palm.

"Take these."

"No."

"They’ll help lower your temperature."

"No."

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"You’re exhausting."

"I’ll live."

"At this rate?"

I gesture dramatically toward his blood-soaked bandages.

"I’m not entirely convinced."

He looks completely unfazed.

"I don’t take medication from strangers."

I bark out a laugh.

"Strangers?"

I point toward the bullet sitting in the tray.

"I literally reached inside your body."

Silence.

"I’ve seen more of your internal organs than your doctor probably has."

Still nothing.

I hold the tablets out again.

"Take them."

"No."

I slowly smile and It isn’t a pleasant smile.

"Oh."

I nod.

"So that’s how we’re playing this."

His eyebrow lifts almost imperceptibly as I cross my arms.

"I’m not asking."

His gaze hardens.

"You can’t force me."

"Wanna bet?"

There’s complete ailence as the seconds stretch.

Finally...He exhales and reluctantly. One large hand reaches toward mine and plucks the tablets from my palm. Without another word, he swallows them with the glass of water.

I grin victoriously.

"There. That wasn’t so difficult."

I sigh dramatically and I’m abt putting the glass away when....

Bang.

The sound makes both of us freeze.

Someone knocks against my apartment door.

Every muscle in the stranger’s body tenses.

Despite his injuries, his hand immediately reaches for the pistol lying beside him.

His movements are slower now br no less dangerous.

"I wasn’t expecting anyone," I whisper.

Another knock much loouder this time.

My stomach twists.

Who would come here this late? I never invited people over. Almost no one even knew this apartment existed.

Then a man’s voice filters through the door.

"Miss?"

A pause.

"Building security.

I glance toward the entrance then back at the stranger, hs entire demeanor has changed.

Gone is the exhausted man barely able to stay conscious.

In his place.....A predator. Ready to kill if he has to.

His dark eyes lock onto mine.

"Don’t answer it."

The words are quiet and barely above a whisper. Yet somehow they carry the weight of an order.

I hesitate.

"If I don’t..."

Another knock interrupts me.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

I glance nervously toward the door again.

"They’ll just keep knocking."

His jaw tightens.

"I said don’t."

I bite my lip.

Ignoring building security at nearly midnight would only make them suspicious. They’d probably call the landlord or worse...The police.

"I’ll be right back."

Before he can stop me, I hurry toward the entrance.

I unlock the deadbolt rhen slowly pull the door open. Two security guards stand in the hallway, rain dripping from their dark uniforms.

One offers a polite smile.

"Sorry to bother you this late, miss."

"It’s okay."

"We’re looking for someone."

My pulse quickens.

"A man."

The older guard studies my face carefully.

"About six foot four."

The younger one continues.

"Dark hair, wearing black, he may be injured."

Every nerve in my body screams.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

"I..."

I force myself to blink naturally.

"I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone."

The older guard tries to peer past my shoulder.

"Would you mind if wr..."

"No!"

I clear my throat.

"I mean..."

I laugh awkwardly.

"My apartment’s a mess."

His expression softens.

"We understand."

"If you do happen to see him..."

He reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card.

"Call us immediately."

"Of course. Of course "

They thank me and begin walking down the hallway. I wait until they’re gone before quietly closing the door.

The deadbolt clicks into place and I let out the breath I’d been holding, yhen I turn around to find the dining table empty.

"No..."

I hurry forward.

The bloodstained gauze is still there, the tray with the bullet, the empty glass of water.

But the stranger...Is gone.

"What?"

I spin toward the living room.

Nothing.

I look around the whole house but I find nothing.

Then I notice it....The curtains, they sway gently in the night breeze and the window behind the dining table is wide open.

Rain blows through the opening, scattering droplets across my wooden floor.

I stare at it in disbelief.

"No freaking way."

He climbed out.

Shot, burning with fever, barely able to stand And somehow...He disappeared into the storm.

A chill races down my spine.

Not necessarily because he escaped but because I suddenly realize something far more terrifying.

If a man that injured could vanish without making a sound...Just who the hell had I brought into my home?