ELEVEN

Zarek

I leaned against the kitchen counter, half-listening as Logan toyed with his food rather than eating it. Leora hadn't appeared all day, not for lunch, nor for dinner, and it was gnawing at my conscience. After giving her the painkillers, worry had started to eat at me—what if she had an allergic reaction?

"She should eat something," I muttered, more to myself, but Logan caught it.

He looked up, his eyebrow arching playfully. "What's up? Did you finally do something right or she's avoiding you out of shock?"

"Very funny," I retorted, not in the mood for his teasing. "I haven't done anything—well, not intentionally. I'm just concerned."

Logan's smirk widened as he pretended to examine his chicken wing closely. "Well, since you're playing stalker-nurse, you might want to know that Kabir found something interesting in her medical file. But maybe you don't need that stress. "

"What?"

He shrugged and my patience snapped. "Logan, spit it out."

He sighed dramatically, putting down his food. "Okay, jeez. Two years ago, her ex-boyfriend stabbed her twice. She was in the hospital for three weeks."

The room seemed to tilt a little as his words sank in. Logan just nibbled at his chicken wing like he hadn't just obliterated my world.

I frowned. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

"Because you were too busy dying in guilt. Thought you might want to know why she's tougher than you think." Logan's tone softened.

I processed this, feeling a twinge of guilt.

"Thanks for the heads-up," I grumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet," Logan continued, "Thank her for not kicking your ass for being stupid. Go talk to her, Zarek. This is the woman you were stalking, man. That's gotta tell you something."

I found myself staring at Leora's closed door, piecing together the timeline. She hadn't been with anyone since that ex. That explained her stoicism, even when cleaning my wound that night—no flinch, no hesitation. A surge of guilt washed over me, constricting my chest painfully. Here she was, surviving, trying to change her world by becoming stronger, and what had I done? I had created an environment where she felt embarrassed and humiliated. A heavy sigh escaped me. My appetite vanished as I pushed my plate away, the food now tasteless.

???

A sudden thud jolted me awake in the dead of night. Curious and a bit unsettled, I ventured out of my room only to spot a silhouette relentlessly pummeling a punching bag.

Leora .

I made my way over and quietly stationed myself behind the bag, holding it steady for her to prevent it from swinging wildly with each fierce punch.

"Go back to sleep," she grunted between strikes.

"This woke me up. I'm a light sleeper," I responded, my voice calm.

She paused, turning to face me with eyes full of fatigue and something darker, something wounded. "I heard what Logan told you. I knew your ultra-intelligent squad would eventually learn about it," her voice was thick with contempt.

I just keep screwing up with this woman.

"Leora, we just wanted to—"

"To what? Find out who I was? What I was hiding?" she interrupted, her voice rising slightly as she resumed her punching with renewed vigor.

"At least now I know and I can help in case—"

"Stop, Zarek. He's dead. And it's not a fucking weakness. I'm completely, absolutely, one hundred percent fine. I'm a psychologist, for fuck's sake. I just hate people knowing about it. Hate it. And you? You knowing, is more humiliating than you rejecting my kiss. What now? You want to kiss me now? Did it change your mind? Do you pity me now?" Her sequence of strikes—straight, uppercut, hook—was relentless.

I straightened my spine, holding the punching bag firmly, meeting her fury with a steady gaze. "When I kiss you, not if, when I fucking take that mouth of yours, Leora Mateez, it will have nothing to do with anything but me claiming you. You understand?"

The intensity of my words seemed to freeze both of us in place. I hadn't expected to say that. Why the fuck was I giving her hope?

I saw the shock, the conflict, the defiance all flicker in her eyes. She tore away her wraps, and without another word, turned on her heel and retreated to her room.