Chapter 14

"Ms. Wilson, clean this up." Turning to me he said. "Come with me." I followed closely behind him. Still on the ground floor we turn right from the kitchen then walked straight down the hall. The last room to the wall, he opened it and wanted for me to enter. My jaw dropped when I noticed the room. A sick bay. He had a sick bay in his house. Correction, Mansion. Closing the door behind me, he said to me. "Go wash my hands in the sink then go sit on one of the beds." I did exactly what I was told, I went to the sink and washed my hands. The pressure of the water hitting my cut caused me to groan so when the blood stopped a little I quickly turn off the pipe and walked the nearest bed. I took a seat on the twin bed that was coved with white bed sheets. Alexander walked over to me with a first aid kit in his hands. Not knowing exactly what to do I reached out my left hands. "What are you doing?" he questioned with raised eyebrows. "Aren't you going to give me the kit?" Shaking his head. "No, you can't do that yourself. I will dress it for you." Those were among the last words I've ever thing he would say to me. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Taking a seat beside on the bed, he rests the kit to his side. "Give me your hands." I held out my arms for him to take. His hands were cold, so they made me shiver a bit. He lifts my hand up to his eyes and start examining it. "It's a pretty deep." I tried to focus my attention on my bruised hand, but it was hard when his strong shoulders where so close to mine. He reached over in the kit to get something, but I wasn't paying attention to that, all my focus was on his muscles that were touching my hand, the felt rip and gym made. "This is gonna hurt a bit." A cool liquid contacted my cut and I jump, my face grimace. "That hurt!" "I told you it was gonna hurt." "I wasn't listening." I was too busy paying attention to your biceps. "Too bad. Now give me back your hands." I looked in his light brown eyes as I slowly give him back my hands. "The bleeding has stopped, are you allergic to anything?" he asked without lifting his head. "Not that I know of, No." I was really enjoying the feeling of his hands-on mine. This was bad, really bad. "Perfect, I'm going to apply an ointment on the cut or an antibiotic cream." He lifts the antibiotics to his eyes and start reading. "Antibiotic it is." He dripped a cotton bud in the cream then close the bottle. He held my hands tight as he applied the cream. I reached over the kit and took out a band-aid and wrapped it around my index finger. "See, all done." I lifted my eyes to his. "Thanks." "Don't thank me. You shouldn't have been in the kitchen." So now we're back to that ugh? "I was hungry." "So was I but you don't see me in the kitchen." I raised my eyebrows at him while I looked at him annoyed. "I was hungry, and she wasn't here. I had no idea that the kitchen was off limits to me." "Well now you know that it is." He closes the first aid kid and stood. "That's unfair." "How is it unfair?" he looked down at me, his eyes emotionless. "Well, Ms. Wilson doesn't like me." Not denying my words he responds, "Ms. Wilson doesn't like a lot of people." "Then why do I have to eat from her if she doesn't like me?" "Because she's the one who cooks the food here," Well, no shit sherlock, I really knew that. "What if she tries to poison me?" Shaking his head, he walked over to the cabinet. "She's not going to poison you, she's not a murderer." "Says all murderers." I mumble. I turned his head and look me in the eyes. "Yes, she doesn't like you, but she isn't going to kill you. The next time you're hungry call delivery or go buy something yourself. I don't want the next time you go in the kitchen cooking you lose a hand!" I looked at him angrily. "For your information, Mr. Wilson scared the hell out of me and that's why the can cut my hand. I'll have you know that I'm a great cook." "I didn't say you weren't." I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't like it here." "Then leave!" he shouted, his turn to me. "You damn well know I can't." I looked at his back because I wasn't able to see his face. He the reason for this. "Everyone has a choice." He close the cabinet and turn to look at me. "You damn well know, I don't. I don't like being here because if I go in the kitchen, Ms. Wilson gives me bad looks, if I go in the garden, the gardener gives me back looks, If I so much as go close to the shih Tzu, he starts growling. Nobody here likes me." My voice became lower as the emotions just got thicker and thicker. "I can't let the workers like you, it's a personal choice they make." I shake my head at him, "That's where you're wrong. The only way they're treating me like that is because you tell them that I'm Henrique's mother. I'm not his mother. I don't have a child. Never given birth. Never gotten pregnant. Never..." I took a deep breath before I said something I'll regret. "I'm not mother, I'm just the sister of his mother." "The only way to prove that you aren't his mother is to help me find your sister." He was right. He had to find my sister, but he was wrong. That wasn't the only way to find out if Henrique was my child.