Page 7 of Death By Chocolate

“Ouc…O…Oh,” I pant through the pain.

“Fight that shit. Stay with me,” he mutters, his voice soft but firm.

“Crazy ass, homicidal Barbie. You’re okay,” he lies. Even as he says the words, I know it’s no guarantee.

“Not Barbie. You…Crazy asset,” I rasp.

“Oh, It’s like that. You go full black panther in the middle of baggage claim to take a bullet for an asset. Hell no. You better hang on for all the fucking to come.”

I try to laugh at the double meaning. It comes out more of a groan. He keeps talking shit, talking me back to life.

“Don’t laugh, Dani. Real talk. When you’re better, I’mma inspect between your legs like the USDA. Just ‘cause we fucking, don’t think I’m not pissed off at you. Jumping in front of a bullet for me.”

I knew I liked his eyes, but I love his voice—melodic and low but constant. Maybe because these words are breadcrumbs for my fading consciousness to hold onto, a knot tying me to a single thread, Xeno.

“Corso and Silvio ‘bout to get their fucking skulls cracked over this shit. And these man bitches who attacked can start booking the priest.”

A wave of peace flows over me. At least Xeno hadn’t taken the bullet meant for me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, as a single tear trails in between my lips. If I survive this, I’ll fuck him.

3

XENO

FUCK FAMILY

I’m sorry.Two words that have my jaw clenching. What the fuck would Dani apologize to me? The woman has an open wound marring her skin instead of mine. The antiseptic smell of the clinic offends my nostrils as I pace the abnormally quiet space, my polished Italian boots echoing against the premium wood. My heart races, pounding against my ribcage. Images of Dani’s limp body, blood seeping through her black lace shirt, are seared into my mind. I run my hands through my hair for the hundredth time, disheveling the impeccable style. How had a routine airport pickup turned into a shit sandwich? I’m not leaving this clinic until I see her in the flesh.

Why did she put herself between me and death?

My life is worthless. Always has been. I was made a monster to be feared and loathed from birth. Dickhead daddy made sure of it. Wanted it. Why would she risk a single hair on her precious head for garbage?

“Where is she?” I demand. For the past two years, my oldest brother, Youric has been The Governor’s doctor. Thanks to his time in the military, he’s one of the best trauma surgeons moneycan buy. But even he couldn't work miracles. What if the bullet had done too much damage? What if Daniella... He watches me prowl like an agitated caged animal missing its mate. “That fucker at the front desk—”

“Gabriel,” he nods. His shoulder-length brown-blond hair falls forward, shielding his eyes.

“Yep, that fucker,” I grumble.

“There’s protocol for entering The Governor.”

I slap my right deltoid muscle with my left palm, before raising my right fist straight in the air. Youric smirks at the crude gesture. “Fuck his check-in. Searching me. Asking a shit ton of questions.”

“That’s standard,” Youric says.

“Fuck standard.” I turn, retracing my steps. “I’m extraordinary, motherfucker. The gold tooth bastard knows who the fuck I am. And where the hell is my sword?”

Youric stares. “You thought anybody would put a damn sword in your hands?” he questions, incredulous. “You’ve been borderline psychotic since you arrived.”

I rear back, confused at how my brother can be so calm when everything about today was fucked sideways. “Arrived,” I bellow. “You say that shit all casually like motherfuckers roll up in your bat cave garage in a remote-controlled car holding pressure on chest wounds every damn day. Or that in this fucked up city, a dozen man bitches can shoot up the airport to get to me.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Besides you taking her from me?” Youric’s team of medical professionals had taken an unconscious Dani from my arms the second the fucking robocar entered the underground parking structure. I couldn’t let go, not with how she clung to me. Before the gunshot, that first contact, her body against mine, I was acutely aware of her curves molded against my cock. Then I felt the sticky wetness spreading across her back. I had to staywith her. She trusted me to keep her alive. If she had to be taken, I’d be damned if I took my eyes off her ashen face. That’s when Gabriel, that greasy asshole with a gold canine, punched me in the side of my fucking head. His men attacked me from behind. One on each arm, the other circled my neck with a steely forearm, squeezing my windpipe. Youric ripped Dani from my arms. The emptiness tears something inside of me. She hadn’t stirred. The commotion, unable to reach the depth that blood loss has taken her.

“X,” he sighs, “I need to examine you.”

I stop. “I fucking told you, it’s Dani’s blood.”

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