27. - Matter

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Finally he's back 😩
I was running out of fucking ideas with Antonios kidnap.

"WHY ARE YOU LIMPING?" Antonio frowns watching me from the other side of the kitchen counter

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"WHY ARE YOU LIMPING?" Antonio frowns watching me from the other side of the kitchen counter.

My eyes move around the room as if I don't realize that he's talking to me.

"What?" I ask dumfounded.

"You're limping." He crosses his arms and walks towards me.

"No I'm not," I straighten myself up as I attempt to a lie knowing damn well he doesn't believe me.

"I'm not stupid Zamira," he narrows his eyes.

I know that... I think.

"Lift your shirt up," he demands, his eyes boring into my own.

"Why would I do that," now it's my turn to have my eyes narrowed at him.

"Lift it up,"

"Why-"

Antonio grunts and moves forward doing it himself. His eyes darken as he sees bruises and wounds scattered around my stomach and waist.

Silence.

"Why didn't you say something," he glances back up at me.

He probably thinks their ugly too.

I can't complain though cause I can't even look at my self in the mirror knowing they're there.

"Because it doesn't matter, and the people who did this are dead," I roll my eyes attempting to cover them.

"It does matter," he glares at me.

"You went through all this to find me Zamira. So yes to me it matters. Did you get it checked, what did they say?"

"They said to rest, and take care of it," I mumble.

"Well it doesn't look like you've been taking care of it or resting," he purses his lips.

"Yeah well it doesn't hurt that much so it's fine," I grit not wanting to have this conversation right now. Especially in the kitchen where anyone and everyone can just walk in.

"Really?" he lightly presses into it, a groan escaping me.

"Ok maybe it does hurt..."

"But so what? It'll get better,"

I remove myself out of his grip and go to leave, only to feel him wrap his hand around my wrist and drag me upstairs.

"Damnit you're so stubborn," he growls, opening his bedroom door.

My mouth gapes open, my eyes taking a quick look around his room.

Antonio throws me onto his bed and grabs something out of his bed side table drawer. A rope.

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