ZURICH
Fûck.
I swear if it wasn’t for Rica, I’d have gone back to punch that arsehole because of whom my shoulder was screaming in pain. Not that he had been the one to shoot me, but he was the reason. And now it hurt like hell to even wear a shirt on my own.
With a curse, I stepped out of my room and my eyes automatically slid to her closed door. It was too f*****g early in the morning but I couldn't sleep, even the painkillers didn't knock me out, not like the way her presence had sent me to the la la land in just a few minutes. I knew Danish was standing on duty outside the apartment door because my big brother thought it was necessary with me injured. He was extra like that, but I guess he knew what he was doing as for nothing else the little s**t could help me wear this shirt at le
