Chapter 127: Chapter 127 Dickson’s New Crush

The elevator finally came to a halt with a soft ding, and the doors slid open to reveal the lavish interior of Lilith’s penthouse. Liam stepped out slowly, Lilith still slumped gently over his back. Her breathing was steady but shallow, the blood from her shoulder still seeping lightly through her clothes. The quiet hum of the city at night was a distant murmur outside the tall glass windows.

Liam walked over to the spacious living room and gently lowered Lilith onto the soft black leather sofa. She groaned in pain, her brows tightening as her hand instinctively flew to her wounded shoulder.

“Where’s your medical kit?” Liam asked, his voice calm but firm.

Lilith weakly lifted her hand and pointed toward a sleek cabinet near the dining area. Liam moved quickly, opening it and retrieving a well-organized first aid box. He returned to her side, opening the kit and inspecting its contents with practiced eyes. Alcohol swabs, gauze pads, surgical tape, disinfectant, and a pair of gloves—all were accounted for.

Lilith turned her back to him with a heavy sigh. “Go ahead,” she muttered, her voice low and slightly hoarse.

Before starting, Liam gently helped her remove the outer layer of her clothing. Her coat and tactical gear came off first, heavy and soaked with both sweat and blood. Underneath, she wore only a thin strap of underwear that left her back mostly exposed. The pale skin around her shoulder was red, raw, and smeared with dried blood. The bullet had gone clean through, but the wound still pulsed with pain and slow bleeding.

Liam paused for a moment, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in front of him. Her back was delicate, graceful.

“Will you dress my wound or keep staring?” Lilith asked softly, a trace of dry sarcasm in her voice.

He cleared his throat quickly and snapped out of it. “Right. Sorry.”

Sliding on the gloves, he gently reached for the thin strap of her underwear and moved it off her injured shoulder, letting it hang loosely around her arm. Then, he picked up a sterile alcohol swab and carefully began to clean the area around the bullet wound. Lilith winced slightly, sucking in air through her teeth as the alcohol stung her open skin.

“Sorry,” Liam muttered.

“It’s fine. Just do it.”

Next, he used gauze soaked in antiseptic solution to clean the rest of the blood from the wound, working methodically and with precision. He made sure there was no debris or foreign material left in it before wrapping the area with a thick bandage. Using surgical tape, he secured the dressing firmly but not too tightly.

By the time he was done, Lilith’s forehead was dotted with beads of sweat. Her jaw was clenched from the discomfort, but she hadn’t said a word during the entire process. She sat still for a moment, her breathing steadying, before slowly getting up from the sofa.

“Where are you going?” Liam asked.

“To wash myself,” she said simply, her brows furrowed as she staggered a little and walked toward her private bathroom.

Liam watched her go, his gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary before he sighed and leaned back into the couch. He waited in silence, listening to the sound of running water and the occasional clink of toiletries.

After a while, Lilith returned, now dressed in a loose, comfortable gray shirt and black shorts. Her long, golden-blonde hair was still slightly damp, and her skin looked fresh and pale under the soft lighting. There was something quiet about her now—something softer, less guarded.

Liam stood up and stretched his back. “You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ve got exams tomorrow, so I need to head out early.”

Lilith nodded slowly. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but then stopped herself. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and she simply whispered, “Goodnight.”

Liam gave her a small smile. “Goodnight, Lilith.”

He turned and headed toward the elevator. As he walked, Lilith’s eyes followed him, and something caught her attention. There was a trail of faint red behind him—small streaks and dots on the gleaming white floor.

Her eyes dropped to his legs and widened.

There were glass shards still embedded in his skin, and parts of his calves were blackened with burns from the earlier explosion. He was barefoot, still wearing the torn pajamas from earlier, his steps slightly uneven.

Lilith opened her mouth to call out—but before she could, the elevator doors had already closed.

The quiet hum of the elevator faded into silence.

And Lilith sat there, clutching her bandaged shoulder, staring at the door he’d just vanished behind.

—-

When Liam finally made it back to his place, the chaos of the night clinging to his skin like a second layer, the first thing he noticed was the peaceful sound of Ann’s soft breathing. She was still asleep, tucked under the sheets like nothing had happened, like the world hadn’t just been on fire hours ago. He paused for a second, watching her chest rise and fall slowly.

Not wanting to wake her with the mess he was, Liam quickly stripped out of his bloodstained, torn pajama top and bottoms. Glass shards from the explosion were still embedded in his feet, and every step he took toward the bathroom left faint red smudges on the floor. He tossed his clothes directly into the garbage and stood in the shower under cold water, letting it wash away the blood, dirt, and exhaustion clinging to his skin. He didn’t even care that his body was aching, bruised, and sore—he just wanted to be clean again.

Once done, he dried off and quietly slid into bed beside Ann. The moment she felt his warmth beside her, she instinctively reached for him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest with a sleepy murmur. She didn’t even notice he had been gone. She just nestled into his embrace, and Liam felt the weight of the night ease off his shoulders for the first time.

He closed his eyes. And for a few hours, he rested.

—-

The next morning, school wasn’t what it used to be.

The air was tense. The halls were buzzing with whispers, students grouped together in hushed conversations.

“Did you hear what happened last night?”

“What? No, what happened?”

“Some kind of huge gang fight. It was all over the south side.”

“Ugh, those disgusting gangs again. Can’t we just get rid of them already?”

“You idiot,” someone else hissed. “They own that part of the city. I heard they sold the land to the mayor. We can’t just ’get rid of them.’”

“Well, at least they don’t affect our lives… right?”

Liam walked past them, expression unreadable. He felt like a ghost walking through reality. Nobody knew. Nobody had a clue that he was right in the middle of that battlefield. That he’d seen lives end. That he’d almost died himself.

To them, it was just a rumor. To him, it was a lifestyle.

Before he could process more, he felt a familiar tug on his arm.

Dickson.

He came out of nowhere and pulled Liam aside from Ann, dragging him down a quiet hallway before Liam could even say a word.

The second they were alone, Dickson glared at him and exploded.

“You fucking cunt! Why didn’t you pick your fucking phone when I called?!”

Liam blinked, thrown off. “You called?”

He reached for his phone, swiping through his call log. “There’s not even a missed call, man.”

“You bloody asshole!” Dickson shouted, already reaching for his phone. “Are you calling me a liar now?!”

But the second he looked at the screen, his expression changed. He went quiet. And then…

“…Shit.”

“What?” Liam asked.

“…I called the wrong number.”

Liam stared at him for a long moment, then rolled his eyes. “Idiot.”

He turned to walk away, shaking his head.

But Dickson wasn’t done. He grabbed Liam’s shoulder again.

“Wait. Wait. I heard about the gang war. You alright?”

Liam looked at him with disbelief. “Would I be here if I wasn’t?” he snapped, before shoving Dickson off and muttering, “Now fuck off. I’ve got an exam to prepare for.”

He started walking away again.

But once more, Dickson stopped him.

“Wait! One more thing. I’ve got a new crush.”

That made Liam pause mid-step. He turned slowly, narrowing his eyes. “What happened to the last girl?”

Dickson closed his eyes and tilted his head back dramatically, letting out a heavy sigh like he was reliving a tragic memory.

“Let’s not talk about that,” he whispered like a broken man.

Liam smirked. “Nah, now I have to know.”

But Dickson waved him off with a serious face. “It’s too painful. Don’t ask, bro.”

“Oh, it’s one of those,” Liam said under his breath, clearly amused.

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