Page 91 of Bloodlust

I drop to my knees, heaving for a breath.

"It's okay," a voice says. I lift my head up, squinting as Hazel squats beside me. Even with layers of concealer, I can see the blue bruise around her eye. "It's okay, just breathe slowly. Not too fast." She rubs my back gently. "You're okay."

"I told you," I attempt to catch my short breath. "I told you to leave."

"I like it here," Hazel swallows, looking over her shoulder. "H-he...loves me." She pauses, softly adding, "Plus, you're still here."

"Yeah," I cough, spitting blood out of my mouth as I get a read on Hazel. She's lost most of her light. Barely flickering. Almost completely gone. Nothing left to lose. It's a place that's worth exploring. "Sometimes we do things we don't want to do."

Hazel looks away, her voice cracking as she says, "I know."

"We should…" I grunt, lifting myself to my feet asZhao finishes making his celebratory rounds. "We should grab a drink sometime soon." I rub my jaw. This shit better not be fucking broken. "Fuck’s sake."

"Oh," she hums timidly as Zhao approaches. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

"Move," he says, pushing Hazel to the side as he extends his arm, offering me a handshake. "Alright, partner. Let's make New York our bitch, huh?" I begrudgingly accept his hand, giving him a small smile. "Great. I'll let Malik know right away." He winces, grinning as he looks at me. "I think you'll need some ice."

"No shit," I say, wiping my hand on my pants. "I'll be in touch once Alba sends us details."

Zhao rubs his greedy hands together, laughing as he sings, "Money, money, money, money, mon-ey!"

Hazel cringes before looking up at me. "Do you need a ride?"

"No," I say, fishing my car keys out of my pocket. "I'm good. I'll text you for drinks soon, okay? Maybe later this week?"

"Yeah..." She looks sheepishly at Zhao who's already ripping into a bag of drugs. "I can find some time."

I leave The Dragon’s lair with a broken face but a forming plan in action.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Hayden leaps out of his office chair and sprints toward me, nearly tripping over boxes of evidence. He hovers his hands over the scrapes and bruises forming across my skin, his eyes sunken andconcerned. "What the fuck happened? Who did this to you?"

"I did," I wince as he accidentally touches a wound. "Ow, fuck."

"Sit on the couch," he says, scurrying toward a bookshelf and retrieving a first aid kit. He places his palm on the small of my back as he helps me sit down. Worry fills his voice as he unzips the kit, pulling out disinfectant and cotton pads. "Talk to me, Camilla. What happened?"

"I'll let you later," I mutter, jerking away as the alcohol stings my skin. Hayden holds my chin like it's crystal as he tilts my head back. "I'm in though. Phase one is complete."

"These are deep," Hayden observes, sighing. He reaches for my hand, observing my knuckles. He frowns. "Did you just stand there? Why?"

"I had no choice," I say with a shrug, dreading another wipe of the disinfectant. "No more, I'm good. It's fine."

"Stay still," he says, softly dabbing the cuts on my skin. "There is always a choice, Camilla. You seem to have made one tonight."

"Recently, my choices seem to only end in pain." I close my eyes as he applies a butterfly bandage. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure that's irony," he whispers, discarding the packaging. He lets out a deep, labored breath. "You should've let me come, Camilla." He feathers the pad of his thumb across my cheek. "Fuck."

"I'm fine," I whisper. "I promise."

Hayden takes my hand and laces his fingers throughmine. His all-consuming gaze flutters across my face, my lips, the wounds of my choices as he breathes out, "You need to stop lying to me, Camilla. It needs to stop."

"I'm already in pain, Hayden," I say quietly, exhaustion washing over me. "Lies don't hurt as much as the truth." I look at him wearily. "If only you felt what I feel."

"Do you want to hurt me, Camilla?" Hayden asks. "You can hurt me if that will help."

I give him a weak smile. "I don't think you could handle it, Doc."

"For you..." He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning over to kiss my forehead. "I could handle a lot."