Badass in Disguise Chapter 261

Jade's POV:

I sat on the edge of the bed with a cushion hugged tightly against my chest, my back exposed to Ethan. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle as Ethan prepared the medication for my wounds.

"Hold still," Ethan murmured behind me, his fingers gathering my deep brown hair.

I felt his touch as he used his long fingers as a makeshift comb, running them through my hair a couple of times before skillfully twisting it up and securing it with a clip at the back of my head.

His fingertips grazed the gunshot wound that had gone clean through my shoulder, then traced down to the two knife wounds on my back. They had already scabbed over, leaving behind pale pink scars that contrasted with my skin. I felt his touch linger on the raised scar tissue on my upper back.

Ethan's voice was soft, almost reverent. "These must have been painful."

I didn't respond. There was no need to state the obvious. As Shadow, my body had collected far more scars than the ones he could currently see.

I felt warm lips press gently against the scar on my shoulder, and my body tensed instinctively.

"Can't you stay focused on one task?" I said, my voice deliberately neutral. "Just apply the medication."

Ethan chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin. "Right. Sorry."

I scrolled through my phone as he began applying the cream, his fingertips making small circles to spread the medication evenly across my scars. The sensation was oddly soothing, despite the clinical nature of the task.

After finishing with the scar on my upper shoulder, Ethan paused. I could sense his hesitation.

Ethan's fingers hovered near the scar before moving to treat the one lower on my right back, closer to my waist. Once he'd finished with that one, his attention returned to the middle scar.

"This one's... covered," he said, his finger lightly touching the fabric over the scar.

"Then unclasp it," I replied without looking up from my phone.

There was a moment of silence behind me.

"You know how to do that, right?" I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice.

"I do," Ethan answered, his voice steady.

I felt his fingers work at the clasp of my sports bra, skillfully unhooking it with minimal fumbling. As the tension in the fabric released, I instinctively hugged the cushion tighter against my chest.

Ethan's fingers returned to my back, spreading the medication over the newly exposed scar. His touch was efficient but gentle.

"Done," he announced a moment later. "Let's wait for the cream to absorb before fastening it again. Otherwise, it'll just wipe off."

I didn't respond, continuing to scroll through my phone.

After a brief pause, Ethan stood up and moved around to face me. I lifted my gaze from my phone screen to meet his eyes.

"I've finished with your back," he said, his expression unreadable.

"And?" I asked, my voice neutral.

"I should treat the front now," he replied matter-of-factly.

"I can probably manage that myself," I pointed out.

Ethan tilted his head slightly. "I might as well do it all."

His eyes were clear and direct, his expression completely professional. I raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze steadily. For a moment, neither of us spoke, locked in a silent battle of wills.

Just as Ethan seemed about to concede, I looked away and lowered the cushion slightly, revealing the scar on my left chest.

The wound from my shoulder had been a through-and-through – entering from the front and exiting through my back. Just a few inches lower, and it would have pierced my heart. It had been a close call.

Ethan took a deep breath, visibly centering himself. With remarkable self-control, he dipped his fingers into the cream and brought them toward my chest, carefully applying the medication to the scar.

His fingertips inadvertently pressed against the soft curve of my breast, and I watched his expression change instantly. His pulse visibly jumped in his neck, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"Sorry," he said, the word coming out slightly breathless.

His apology made the moment more awkward than it needed to be. I noticed his throat bob as he swallowed hard, his lips pressing into a tight line.

I maintained my composed expression, but I could feel the tips of my ears warming. Ethan's eyes flickered to them, and a knowing look crossed his face. He resumed applying the medication, his touch even more careful than before.

"Miguel mentioned something about one of your eye robots," he said, clearly trying to change the subject. "Said it's malfunctioning. He asked me to tell you."

"Mm," I responded, still scrolling through my phone.

After finishing with the cream, Ethan capped the tube and stood up. He went to wash his hands in the bathroom, then returned to sit across from me again.

"Busy with something?" he asked, nodding toward my phone.

I didn't answer immediately. "Get me some water," I said instead.

"Sure."

Ethan went to fetch a glass of water. When he handed it to me, I gave him my phone in exchange.

He accepted it, but his face changed when he saw the screen. His eyes widened slightly before looking back at me.

"This is you," he said softly.

On the screen was a photo of Shadow – my former self.

Ethan studied the image carefully. "I saw your face on Dr. Blackwell's medical license," he said. "You were beautiful." He paused. "No wonder Ian couldn't forget you. And Colonel Edwards said you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen."

His gaze returned to the screen, where Shadow sat on the floor, hunched over a laptop at a workstation, her hair pulled up in a high bun as she worked with intense concentration.

"I was busy in New York when you were tearing up Venezuela as Nobody," Ethan continued. "I couldn't even make it to the La Corona that year. We never crossed paths." His voice carried a note of regret. "If I had gone to Venezuela then, if our paths had crossed... would things have been different?"

I took a sip of water, watching him over the rim of my glass.

"You look beautiful," he said, still staring at the photo.

"Do I?" I asked, setting down my glass.

Ethan finally looked away from the phone. "I've always wondered – why did you blow up the Transcendent Military Alliance headquarters?"

I shrugged, my expression nonchalant. "Didn't like it. Blew it up for fun."

"Didn't like it?" Ethan echoed, confused. "What about it didn't you like?"

"Too proper," I replied.

"You don't... like proper things?" he asked cautiously.

I gave him a sidelong glance. "You're fake-proper. What are you nervous about?"

Ethan laughed, the sound warm with affection. "The base has been rebuilt even stronger than before. If you want to blow it up again, you'll need more explosives."

"I never use small amounts when I blow things up," I stated matter-of-factly.

Ethan nodded, his smile deepening. "But," he said, drawing out the word playfully, "the Transcendent Military Alliance might end up being our joint property someday. If you don't mind the expense, feel free."

I leveled a cool look at him. "Not interested."

"Is this the only photo? Are there more?"

I responded with minimal enthusiasm: "Swipe left."