The apartment was dark and silent when they walked in. The only light was the faint, blue glow of the microwave clock. Kofi flicked on the living room lamp, the sudden brightness making him wince.
"Okay, sit," Nina commanded, pointing to the couch. "Don't move."
She disappeared into the kitchen, and he could hear the sound of the freezer opening, the clatter of an ice tray. He sank onto the couch, every muscle in his body protesting. The adrenaline had completely worn off, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache that seemed to emanate from his very bones.
Nina returned with a handful of ice cubes wrapped in a dish towel, a makeshift ice pack. She sat down next to him on the couch, her movements surprisingly gentle as she pressed the cold compress against his bruised cheek.
He hissed at the sudden cold.
"Suck it up, hero," she said, though her voice was soft. "This is what you get for playing vigilante in a dark alley."
