.....

Damien

Once I placed her in the car and buckled her in, I walked around and joined her in the back seat. Her eyes meet mine in a furtive glance as Archie asks where to.

At this point, my sense of urgency to get her home supersedes any other request. The 15 minute ride home had me anxious as we drove in complete and utter silence. I don't know how to explain this emotion of what happened. She remains quiet and stares out the window as we drive through the down town area towards my apartment.

When we pull up into the underground garage, we are greeted by one of the valet's as he opens the door. I step out immediately and barely give her a chance to stand on her own.

Her small hand pressed against my chest as a frown formed on her face.

"Put me down. I can walk on my own," she muttered.

"I am well aware of that, but you are in no condition to walk."

"I feel fine," she struggled against me.

"Would you just quit it?" agitation flared up in my tone as I walked with her toward the lobby.

We made it into the elevator. Her protests fell on deaf ears as I made my way towards the apartment. She didn't protest again until we entered the room where she slept and was placed on her bed. I propped a pillow behind her and urged her back. She hesitated some and gave in.

I could tell that she was not used to this. Especially coming from me.

Awkwardly she sat there in silence staring at me as I fussed over the blankets to cover her lap.

"There you go." I said as I placed it up to her waist.

'You don't have to do all of this." she murmured.

"I know I don't, but I am not an animal, Peyton."

She looks down and began fidgeting with the blanket.

I observe her for a while and immediately catch myself.

"I am gonna order something for us to eat. You must be hungry."

She looks up at me. Her brows knit together, forming a V above her nose.

"Actually no, I thought I would work a little. You know...so that I can find out what happened..."

She trails off as I remain quiet.

It's a good but wrong answer.

"That can wait. You need to eat and rest."

"No, I am fine. I really think..."

I cut her off before she continued, " I really think that can wait. You need to eat and rest."

I can see agitation forming in her eyes.

"Well...I'm not hungry." The petulance in her tone is amusing but I brush it away.

"I never asked if you were."

"Bossy much?"

"Some may call it that, others call it being high-handed."

"And what do you call it?" she shrugged.

"Getting what I want," I say.

For a moment I am catapulted into her gaze of awe before she looks away again.

I take that bit of silence and I run with it before she protests more. I turn away.

I make my way quickly out of there before I am hurled into more verbal sparring with her.

I am at a bit of a pickle as I make my way to the kitchen. I suddenly get an alert on my phone. A reminder for an up coming Gala event that I agreed to but for the life of me I have no ral feelings to ggo to but I accept any way. I pull out all of the menus from the drawer that I have accumulated over time. It was a choice of Thai, Chinese and Indian food. I frowned. Are any of these diabetes friendly? I sift through the numbers on my phone and redial Jonah's number. I am out of my element as I awkwardly ask him what can Peyton actually eat?

I am relieved and grateful that he doesn't grill me with questions and just glosses over an example of diabetic-friendly foods. " Just as long as you don't feed her food high in carbs, she should be good. " he says.

I take a deep breath. Practically everything on the menus has carbs.

I give up on the menus and reach out to a friend that owns a restaurant down in Soho. I explain what I can without going in to details. He was more than happy to get me something with a healthy and tasty flare. I am given a time everything would be delivered.

I take that time to run and shower. I pray as I shower and dry off that what is sent to me is edible because I am starving.

I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants and walk out to the kitchen in time as the buzzard rings. I let the delivery guy up and meet him at the door. He graciously smiles and thanks me as I give him a generous tip as he hands me the package. I have to admit that the aroma has me salivating. I grab a tray and lay out a full spread to sample.

I make my way down the hall and slowly press open the door with the tray. I walk in just in time to see her ready to administer her insulin. She slowly looks over at me then her gaze lowers to the tray as I walk towards her. I place the tray at her side and slowly sit beside her. Disappointment swims in her gaze as she holds the syringe in her hand. I catch a glance of her glucose meter and reach for it and see 234 mg/dl ....High!!! as it blinks on the screen.

"I have to take my insulin before I eat." She informs me.

I nod and slowly take the syringe from her fingers. I reach over for the alcohol swab in the packet and open it.

I look up in time to see her watching me. She reaches slowly for it but I pull it away. My gaze is steady with hers as I notice she wants to argue but she refrains. She exhales and plops back on her pillow and slowly raises her shirt, exposing her abdomen.

I scooch forward and gently wipe the alcohol swab over her skin then gently press the syringe into it. I remain mentally focused as I squeeze it until all of the insulin is gone. I am careful as I administer it and pull away. She hands the cap that covers the needle to me and I cover it. She gently rubs the spot and lowers her shirt. We sit in awkward silence for a while before I remember the food.

"I wasn't sure exactly what is diabetic friendly," I moved the tray between us.

She exhaled and smirked as she sat forward.

"To be honest, nothing on this tray is diabetic friendly," my stomach jumped some as I frowned and looked at her with a feeling of dismay that I may have ordered wrong.

But she slowly reached for one or two morsels of things and at them.

"Don't worry. It's something I had to get used to. Many foods out there are diabetic friendly but either are hard to come by or don't taste good."

I acknowledge what she says and I am baffled at the same time.

We continue to sample the tray and commence in small talk.

"So, your brother, How long will he be in the hospital for?"

She exhales. "They are talking about a day or two more until they can release him."

I nod. "You know that he cant go back on the street or return home. Boris will be looking for him." I inform her.

She shrugs with an understanding nod.

"What do I do?" She asks.

I look up at her for a while. I honestly in that moment did not know either.

"Let me speak to Drew and see what can be done. For what I I know, Boris is the biggest fish out there that the Feds want. Hopefully your brother can help catch him."

She remains silent and worried.

"All I ask as that he is kept safe. He is all I have."

"Don't worry. With Drew , he is in good hands."

She accepts what I say and her shoulders relax as she exhales.

I slowly reach over and begin cleaning up as she slowly begins to reach for her laptop.

I set the tray aside and reach for the laptop.

"You need your rest," I close it and pull it away.

"I am fine. I just need to..."

"It can wait," I insist as I stand with it and the tray in tow.

I can tell this bothered her. I could see the struggle to argue was there but she stops and loweres her gaze.

I watch as she exhales with frustration and crosses her arms before her.

I begin to turn, Then, the reminder of the Gala chirped on my phone again. I place the tray on her bed and opened the alert. It was for Friday evening. Tomorrow night.

"What is it?" she asks.

I look at her and shake my head. "Its this Gala tomorrow night that I agreed to."

She remains silent staring at me.

"Have you ever been to one?"

Her gaze widens. I take that as a no.

She nervously shakes her head.

"Do you want to go to one?"

She stammers and shakes her head. I have to admit that she looks pretty when she is flustered.

"I don't have clothes for that," She says softly.

"Don't worry. I will take care of that."

"So, tomorrow at 8PM ?"

She nods slowly.

"Great! I will pick you up at 8PM"

I confirm it immediately in a text and immediately let my assistant know of the arrangements in a text.

I leave her sitting there in silence as I leave with the tray.

I stand in the kitchen wondering what else to do as it finally set in that I will be taking her to the Gala and not Vanessa.

Shit!!!