CHAPTER 25: CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE : YOU ARE RUNNING

Kendrick’s POV

I hadn’t stepped foot in the hospital for a week, I knew grandpa would be extremely furious by now.

Not because I didn’t care about him , if anything, it was the opposite. Caring was dangerous and one person was enough for me to take the risk for but now, it seems like my control is slipping and my emotions are all over the place.

And love is even more dangerous and I will never let it ruin everything I have worked hard for.

So, I buried myself in work, letting the tick of the clock and the endless pile of contracts keep me from thinking about her.

She had somehow worked her way into my head and after our last talk, I knew this was no longer just a contract.

Her voice, her laugh, that damn stubborn way she looked at me like she could see through every wall I’d built over the years.

Maybe if I stayed away long enough, I would be able to get rid of this unnecessary emotion.

Instead of going to the hospital myself, I sent Evans to the hospital every day to check on grandpa’s health.

"Just update me if anything comes up," I had told him on the first morning after I decided to stay away.

And he did, precise, impersonal updates on my grandfather’s health.

I sometimes waited for him to say something about Christy but just talks about my grandpa, never once mentioning Christy, and I never asked even though I knew she was there with him.

I was halfway through reviewing a set of international contracts when Evans came in, setting a file on my desk.

"Are you back from the hospital? How is he? " I asked him with a serious expression.

"His vitals are stable, the doctor said the swelling has gone down,"he said simply.

"Good," I muttered, signing another page without looking up.

There was an awkward silence and he shuffled his feet like he was hesitating to say what was on his mind.

"Any other thing I need to know?" I asked him while I was still busy with the documents.

"She asked about you again,"he said with a hesitant voice.

My hand froze on the pen and it took me a few seconds to snap out of it.

"And you told her?" I asked, and stopped reading the document and looked at him.

"That you were busy." His tone was neutral, but I caught the judgmental flicker in his eyes.

"Good" I said plainly before going back to reading the document and signing.

" I honestly think you both should talk about things" He said and hurried out of my office

Before I could come up with a suitable excuse , the door opened again. Gary walked in without knocking, like always. He tossed himself into the chair opposite my desk, leaning back and studying me.

"You look like hell, your eye bags are having eye bags," he said.

I didn’t answer, as I focused on signing the documents in front of me.

"I saw Evans in the hallway. He told me you haven’t been to the hospital in a week. What the hell are you doing?" He asked with an annoyed tone.

"Working." I replied without lifting my head to look at him.

"No," Gary leaned forward, with his elbows resting on his knees.

"You’re running." he said with a sigh.

I looked up sharply.

"From what?"

Why would he say I am running, I have nothing to run from. I just needed time to think about everything.

"From her." He said without blinking.

"From feeling something that actually matters." he added with a frown.

"Grandpa asked me to tell you that he wants to see you tomorrow" he informed me expressionlessly.

He hardly gets upset and this is one of the few times I have seen him like this.

My jaw tightened. "You think I have time to play emotional games? Feelings get in the way. They cloud judgment. They... "

"They make you human, Kendrick," he cut in. "You’ve built this empire, fought off enemies, survived things that would’ve destroyed most people. And now you’re scared of one woman because she makes your heart race? That’s pathetic."

I slammed the pen down. "It’s not just about her. You don’t understand..."

"Then make me," Gary challenged.

I looked away, my chest tight. Memories I kept buried scratched at the surface.

My father’s voice, sharp and cold, the smell of blood, the heat of betrayal when people I trusted sold me out.

Twice I’d come close to death before I was twenty-one. Twice I’d learned that attachments made you a target.

"She’s not a game I can afford to lose," I said finally, my voice low. "And I don’t want her to be my weakness."

Gary shook his head. "You’re so busy protecting yourself from hurt that you’re hurting her anyway."

I didn’t reply... I couldn’t. The truth of his words lodged in my chest like a blade.

*****

Christy’s POV

Seven days. That’s how long it had been since I last saw Kendrick.

Every morning, Evans came in with that polite, practiced smile and told me he was ’busy’.

Every afternoon, he left before I could press for more details.

I told myself I didn’t care. That I was here for his grandfather, not for him. But the hollow ache in my chest said otherwise.

Grandpa was propped up in bed, reading the newspaper when I came in. He smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, my sunshine," he said warmly.

I sat in the chair beside him, forcing a smile.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked him with a smile.

"Old," he chuckled, then his expression softened. "Christy, I need to ask you something."

I frowned. "What is it?"

"Promise me you won’t leave him."

The sudden plea caught me off guard. "I’m not, I mean, we’re not... "

"I know what you are and what you’re not," he interrupted gently.

"But I also know my grandson. He feels for you. Probably more than he’s ever let himself feel for anyone. And that terrifies him."

My throat tightened. "Why?"

He sighed and set the paper aside.

"Because of what he’s been through."

I leaned closer as he began to speak, his voice low and heavy.

"When Kendrick was a boy, his father... neglected him, to say the least. He was left to fend for himself most days. When his father did pay attention, it was to criticize, to tell him he’d never be enough.

Then, when he was eighteen , he was attacked. Twice, in the same year. The first time, someone cut his brakes. The second..." His voice faltered.

"The second, they left him bleeding in the street."

My hands clenched in my lap. "Who would do that to him?"

"Enemies of the Black family , mostly. But the worst damage came from inside the family.

Sameen made it her mission to ruin him. She spread rumors about him, cruel, ugly lies about his sexuality, about his... nature.

People believed her. Friends turned away. He learned early that trust was dangerous."

I swallowed hard, my chest aching.

"He doesn’t let people close because everyone who’s ever gotten close has hurt him," Grandpa finished quietly. "But I can see it, you’ve slipped past his guard. Please, Christy... don’t give up on him."

Tears stung my eyes. I reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"I won’t."I promised, even though I wasn’t certain I could keep it .

For a long moment, we sat in silence, the weight of his words settling over me. My heart ached for Kendrick, for the boy he’d been, for the man he’d become because of it.

I left the room to clear my head, walking slowly down the corridor. The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic, the air cool and dry. I stepped outside into the crisp air, letting it bite at my cheeks as I tried to process everything I’d just learned.

Kendrick wasn’t just cold or distant by choice.

He was protecting himself from a lifetime of pain. And yet, I wanted to be the one to melt the ice around his heart.

After twenty minutes, I headed back toward the room.

The door was ajar and I remember vividly that I had closed it when I left.

A prickle of unease slid down my spine. I pushed it open quietly and froze.

A man stood beside Grandpa’s bed, his back to me. He was holding a syringe filled with a cloudy, pale liquid, his hand steady as he reached for the IV line.

For a split second, I couldn’t breathe as I stared at him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The words came out of my mouth before I could think.

The man jolted, half-turning toward me. The light from the window caught his face, a stranger, dark eyes flashing with something I couldn’t name.

I could feel the killing intent emanating from him as he stared at me expressionlessly.

The syringe gleamed in his hand and his grip tightened around it.

And then he moved, he was so fast that I couldn’t react before he grabbed my neck.