Written in Ink

Thirty-seven | Reagan

Last night was the most wholesome night I've had at the house ever. Even though I was a crying mess, he still held me. He was concerned about my back, asking if it hurt every couple of minutes. It felt nice to feel cared about. My entire time here I havent felt any comfort other than these new feelings with Alonzo.

When morning came, I was practically on top of Alonzo. I must have moved in my sleep. I go to move off of him, but two hands are firmly pressed at the base of my back holding me down. I wince at the pressure on the bruise.

Noticing the discomfort, Alonzo let's go immediately. He gets up moving me to the matrices on my stomach. He sits back onto his knees and pulls up my hoodie.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" I giggle.

He doesn't say anything. My face is up against the pillow, making it difficult to see him.

I feel his hands gingerly touch down my back. It leaves an aching pain and I try to sink into the bed so his hand gets off. "It kinda hurts." I laugh a little so I don't cry at the ache.

"You're coming to work with me today." He says out of the blue.

This makes me push against his hands and sit up. "I am?"

He nods his head. "You are."

I kinda go into a panic. I don't want to go into his Mafia office. It's probably more dangerous than Nico. "Why?" I ask him.

He stood up off the bed and made his way to the closet. He doesn't say anything to answer me. He just goes into the closet, emerging a few minutes later wearing a grey suit. "We are going to leave in five minutes."

"What?" I gasp. "W-what do I even wear?"

"It doesn't matter. Wear sweats if you want." He answers, putting a watch on his wrist.

I just nod my head, looking down. I get off the bed and immediately feel a tight feeling in my ribs. I can't expand my lungs all the way so I falter, putting my hand on the bed for support.

I catch my breath for a second. Alonzo comes back into the room, even though I didn't even realize he left. He is immediately at my side, holding me up. "Merde." He mumbles.

He picks me right up and carries me out the door. I don't protest because I'm still struggling to breathe. I rest my head on his chest and I feel my face relax and I steady my breath by the time we get to the car.

I'm still wearing my jammy shorts. They are short and I can feel my ass hanging out. He puts me into the car which is a black SUV, even going the next step and buckling me in. When he gets into the car he starts driving.

I'm not going to lie and say I'm excited to go to his work. It's the Mafia, it's dangerous. But it is away from Nico. Plus, I haven't been outside the house in so long.

The drive is long and quiet. Not to mention awkward. Every once and a while I have to pull down my shorts since they keep bunching up. The soft fabric of them makes it even easier to pull up on my crotch. To make matters worse, I also have to pee.

"How much longer?" I ask with a quiet tone.

"Another twenty minutes." He answers. "Why?" He adds.

I shake my head. "No reason."

"Why." He presses.

I cower back into my seat at the sudden harshness in his tone. "Just curious." I lie.

"Does your back hurt? Do you need something? Is—"

"I'm fine! Drop it." I plead, looking out the window.