Chapter 4
Vlad
In the bedroom, I untie Alessia’s wrists to check on the skin beneath. It’s chafed and raw, so I wind a scrap of one of my t-shirts around the area before retying her.
She’s quiet through it all. Withdrawn.
I pick up the glucometer to check her blood sugar before bed.
“You don’t need to check again. I should be stable now,” she mutters.
I ignore her and take the drop of blood anyway. She doesn’t strike me as the suicide type, but I’d rather not rely on her for all my information. She’s right, though, her numbers are in range, according to the range she gave me.
I make a mental note to research the hell out of her illness, so I can properly care for her.
Already a fierce protectiveness for her consumes me, which is unusual for me. I don’t trust women. In my experience
