Adrian looked considerably more haggard than he had the last time I had seen him. His eyes were bloodshot, and his shackled wrists were rubbed raw against the harsh metal cuffs. His right arm and shoulder, where he’d been pierced by Kyle’s bullets, were tightly wrapped in bandages, even as his skin remained splattered with brownish-red bloodstains. A deep melancholy swam in his eyes, adding a sort of haunting beauty to his otherwise ragged appearance.
Within my hands, however, was something I knew would bring a hint of light back to his lifeless gaze. Fully aware that our time was limited, I forewent any meaningless pleasantries in favor of pulling the pouch from my waist and placing it in front of Adrian.
“Here,” I said, watching as his eyes widened in response to the red core twinkling gently on the table.
