“Zoey, honey.” I hold her hands tightly, wishing I could take away all her memories of this awful night. “Tell Oliver. Let him handle Mark. Don’t protect him.”
“I don’t want Oliver to get in trouble,” she says to me.
Oliver’s already pulling on his boots. “Men like him deserve all the hurt that’s coming to them. Don’t worry about me, doll. What’s the unit?”
“Six-oh-seven,” my sister says, always saying “oh” instead of zero. “But I don’t think he’s alone.”
“I heard, and I’m about to find out that information for you and make sure Mark never even wants to lay eyes on you again.”
“Do you want to call the cops instead, Zo?” I ask, wanting her to have the option of what she wants to do.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
“No one will,” Oliver replies before I have a chance. He stalks toward me and kisses the top of my head. “You take care of her, and I’ll take care of him.”
I peer up at him, searching his eyes for reassurance. “Be safe.”
“Sweetheart, Mark doesn’t stand a chance.”
And based on the size of Oliver, I know what he is saying is true. He is about to wipe the floor with Mark’s ass.
“Don’t kill him,” I tell him.
“I’ll leave him and whoever else is there breathing.”
“I don’t want you to end up in jail, Oli,” I reply.
“I won’t,” he promises before the front door opens, and he’s gone.
“I want a shower,” Zoey says as soon as we’re alone. “I need to scrub my skin.”
“Whatever you want, sissy.”
She nearly throws herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. “I love you,” she whispers against my hair.
“I love you too.”
“You have a good man there, Lu.”
“I think he’s a keeper,” I tell her, and my stomach flips the same way it did earlier when he got to my place, but for very different reasons.
Two hours pass, and I’m standing at the big window in the living room, staring at the street for any signs of Oliver. He texted me a half hour ago saying he was on his way back, but it’s been radio silence since then.
I’ve never been as relieved as I was to get his text.I had faith that Oliver could handle Mark and whoever else was there with him, but that didn’t mean a small part of me didn’t think the worst could happen even if the possibility was small.
The road glistens from the thick layer of ice that fell earlier in the night. The snow is coming down fast but has had no time to accumulate in one spot because the wind is whipping it everywhere except for where it has fallen.
Zoey passed out in the guest room an hour ago after a shower and three shots of tequila. She said it was the only way she’d be able to keep her eyes closed, and I didn’t have a problem with her getting hammered and passing out. It’s probably what I would’ve done in her situation, too.
My heart leaps as truck lights illuminate the virtual ice rink outside my house. He is here. He’s back. I nearly hold my breath as he parks and climbs out, studying his movements carefully to see if he is hurt.
But Oliver being Oliver, he hops down from his truck, his strides sure and strong with his head held high. He looks more like he ran to the corner store to grab some milk than just kicked two full-grown men’s asses after being awakened in the middle of the night.
I rush to the door as he gets closer to the house. I’m nearly vibrating off the floor with all the adrenaline running through my body. When his footsteps are closer, I open the door and soak him in.
His lip is bloodied, and one eye looks like it’s beginning to swell. “It’s done,” he says as he stalks inside, shivering as he steps inside the warm foyer.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking his coat from him as soon as he starts to shrug it off.
