Hearing how long had passed, I couldn't help but be shocked, worried, and confused.

"Three days! What about..."

"Your mother? Don't worry, I already spoke to her since you wouldn't shut up about her while you were unconscious."

"You did what!"

"You kept mumbling about your mother and she kept calling your phone, so I answered it and you wouldn't believe what she said to me after hearing my voice," she reiterated as she took my phone out of her pocket.

"She was so direct, saying something along the lines of 'I can't believe my son is with a girl. Just be careful and use protection if you do the deed' before telling me to treat you well and saying that you deserved it," she revealed in a mocking manner.

Facepalming, it sounded just like something my mother would say, always trying to get me to socialise, meet others and enjoy myself.

Ever since I dropped out, all I had done was work, train, eat and sleep, and she seemed to feel guilty, wanting me to live my youth to its fullest.

But wasn't she a little too comfortable with me disappearing for three days and supposedly with a girl?

Sighing, I knew she would get the wrong idea, but still, it was better than having to explain to her that I had fought against an entire gang and barely survived.

Regaining composure, I had almost forgotten that she was a cop and that I knew nothing about her.

"What happened after I lost consciousness?" I asked bluntly.

She had a gloating expression as she dragged over a chair before spilling everything that had happened, which seemed to be news to the other woman who joined her.

-

From what she said, the police quickly swarmed the scene and while they were detaining all those that were there, she had followed after me.

She said that she had debated with herself whether to do so or not, but since I saved her, she couldn't just let me die and she also felt sorry for me, as I looked very young.

And it didn't take long for her to catch up to me, finding me laying on the ground and losing blood quickly.

She wanted to call an ambulance and take me to a hospital, but she opted to call her roommate, who was an emergency nurse, instead.

It was clear that I was adamant about avoiding the police and hospitals, and although she knew what she was doing was a crime, she still went through with it, which I appreciated.

Struggling to get me into her car, she claimed that she drove me all the way to her apartment building, then got her roommate to help smuggle me into their apartment.

Then after that, her roommate began tending to me, and from my injuries and how much blood I lost, they thought I was bound to die and that they would get in big trouble.

However, thankfully, they were able to supply me with blood quickly, which was a big factor in my survival and recovery.

Using a blood testing kit that she luckily had with her at home, they found that I had the same blood type as Angela's roommate, who gave me her own blood to help with my recovery.

She also hooked me up to an IV and injected me with morphine that numbed the pain, and I was completely knocked out for three entire days, to the point that they were even starting to think that I was in a coma.

My bruising was minor, but the knife wounds on my arms and my sides and the bullet wound in my shoulder were the most dangerous.

Angela had to return to the police station and give a report, then was given a week's leave of absence, while her roommate would work throughout the day and check on my body regularly.

And, somehow, after merely three days, I had recovered as much as a normal person would do in a matter of weeks.

-

I didn't like to admit it, but I truly owed my life to the two of them after hearing what had happened, which seemed to be the truth, as I thanked them deeply.

However, my gratitude was taken and thrown back at my face by Angela.

"We don't need your thanks. How are you going to buy us a new sofa and some new car seats after you drenched them in your blood?" she retorted.

I had a wry smile on my face, as I went to scratch my head, and felt a sharp pain in my side.

"Stop moving so much and just lie down," instructed the nurse as she gently pushed me down onto the sofa.

She seemed to be a calm and gentle lady of few words, completely opposite to the unrefined and rowdy Angela.

And despite only a few minutes passing, I had a feeling of what they were both like.

"What was your name, by the way? This cow is Angela, but I didn't get the pleasure of hearing yours," I asked.

She smiled slightly, but it seemed as though my kind words did nothing to ease her annoyance as she answered plainly, "Bella."

"A name that suits you," I commented with a smile.

The way Bella looked at me with disdain and at Angela with annoyance, it was clear she was indignant about everything that had happened and one couldn't blame her.

However, I could also see that she was relieved that I seemed well, and was very kind-hearted and caring towards her patients.

And even though she had been dragged into everything unwillingly, she ended up saving my life, so the least I could do was compliment her.

Angela's face became distorted.

"Stop flirting with her! You're only a high schooler!"

"If you knew that, why did you ask me to pay you for the sofa?!" I yelled in response to Angela, whose face was flushed red with anger after being called a cow.

Shouting back caused me great pain and I couldn't be bothered to argue with her any longer, as it sunk in that she seemed to know about me.

"Wait... Exactly how much do you know about me...?"

"Xavier Kenji. 17-years-old. Son of Maria and Jack..."

"Son of Maria and that's it," I interrupted sternly.

She cleared her throat, before moving on, "And a high school dropout who is working at a convenience store and has no previous criminal convictions, apart from..."

Pausing, appearing hesitant about mentioning something, and from how uptight I had become at the mention of my father, she knew to avoid mentioning it again.

"A seemingly normal youth, who somehow ended up fighting an entire gang alone..."

She gave me a questioning look as she stared deep into my eyes.

...

Now things were starting to get serious.

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