I pushed off the wall, unable to meet her gaze as we left the entryway and headed for the back of the room.
This was going to hurt.
Chapter 62
Lily
As the crowds slowly made their way up to The Den above, Kira and Aiden leaving amongst them, I cleaned the cut on the underside of Dean's right forearm. It wasn't deep enough to do any serious damage but looked painful. Running the length of his forearm, it disturbed the black tattoo that took up the entirety of that arm. I disinfected it and wrapped it firmly in a bandage. All while trying to keep my hands from shaking.
I had truly believed Dean would be so badly beaten by Murphy, that he would be removed unconscious, or worse, from the pit. I feared for his life. My heart ached with every punch, and I held my breath whenever he collapsed or struggled to get down air. But now, as we sat in silence surrounded by Antonio’s other fighters taking their time to leave, I was torn about what exactly I should be feeling.
Relief that the night was over and Dean was alive was brief. But that fear lingered and tangled itself around my still-racing heart.
I had seen him in so many fights before, but this one truly scared me. The reality Dean, the composed but lethal, level-headed fighter, wouldn’t always be so lucky. Everything felt out of place. Something was off and Dean was suddenly too quiet.
Looking at him, it was like his walls were going up. Slowly at first, and then all at once as he slipped into his thoughts. Only allowing a solemn nod on the rare occasion I asked if he was feeling okay. His eyes were glazed and tired as he stared at the floor with his arm across my lap.
He hadn’t flinched once the entire time I tended to the cut or when he pressed an ice pack to his badly bruised ribs, apart from a subtle crease in his brow. His hand grazed mine when he wordlessly took the pack from my hands to hold it himself. It was the only real, physical interaction we had, outside of the first aid, since sitting down on the couches.
Seb remained on the adjacent seat, also strangely silent as he found a loose thread in his jeans, the most interesting thing in the room.
It was still storming out. The wind rattled the small windows that sat high on the basement walls, while rain continued to bucket down beyond the back door. Every so often, as someone left through that door, a cool breeze howled across the room. Kicking up dust and bringing relief from the usual humidity inside.
“All done...” I said quietly, turning my attention to packing up the first aid box instead of worrying why Dean frowned.
His gaze came back into focus, as he looked sidelong at me. Those silvery blue eyes told me nothing about what was going on in his head. This was the Dean I remembered from the night we met in the parking lot behind The Den. When he was a stranger.
My heart began to race, and not in the way it usually did around him. I was scared and didn’t know why.
What did he want to talk about?
Antonio approached the lounge area, coming from a conversation with those businessmen. His expression was hard, unimpressed, and all directed at Dean as he stopped at the back of the couch Seb was on.
“That was some fight,” he said simply.
Dean looked down.
“What happened?”
“It wasn’t his fault...” Seb offered but trailed off at the look of warning Antonio sent down him.
“I took painkillers for my bruised ribs.” Dean shrugged and sat back, continuing to avoid looking up. “Murphy switched them to somethin’ else.”
Antonio’s brow went up. “Painkillers from Lily’s cabinet?”
My heart stopped. I could see how it looked to him. That I might’ve done something to ruin the outcome of this fight.
I stammered. “I—”
“They were from my locker,” Dean said. “I mustn’t have locked the door properly.”
If Antonio believed that, he gave no indication of doing so as his gaze flicked between the two of us. He opened his mouth to add more but was quickly distracted by the sound of stilettoed heels approaching.
Roxy was walking fast. Her face was serious, almost worried, as she got to Antonio’s side and muttered something to him.
Seb being the closest, tried to subtly listen in by tilting his head back.
Antonio’s face didn't change and he nodded once. Roxy backed away, wringing her hands slightly as Antonio addressed the room of remaining fighters.
