“We’re in this together now. No apologies for things we cannot control.”
My fingers feather over the marks on her face, damage caused by my own blood.
“Come on, cowboy.” She brings me back to earth. “Time to fix it all.”
Dialing my brothers, I follow Niamh back into the bar and to the small office, the space only big enough to fit a single filing cabinet, a desk and a chair. There are no windows in here, the air stale and dusty.
“Sorry, I don’t come in here much.” She wheels the chair out as I tell my brothers to get here as soon as possible, not giving them any information, but they’ll come. Once I put the phone down, I eye the bruise onher face, my blood heating again, pushing through my veins to thump in my ears. Twice now.Fucking twice.He’s hurt her, used her to punishme.
“Where are —” I don’t hear the rest of what Niamh says as I storm back out into the bar and grab a towel before I bundle a bunch of ice into it, wrapping it up to bring it back to her.
Spinning her chair, I get to my knees and tilt her face toward me, applying the ice. Her eyes soften as she lifts her own hand and brushes back some of my hair.
“You punish him by doing this,” She whispers. “I know you want to hurt him, but you’re better than that, Roman.”
“Am I?” I reply.
“You are ten times the man he is.” Her voice is soft but sure, her eyes lowering so she can catch mine. “More than that.”
“I’m not letting him touch you again, Niamh.” I hold the ice to her face, keeping it gentle so I don’t hurt her further. “I won’t be better next time.”
The computer makes a pinging noise that draws Niamh’s attention away, pulling from the ice.
“It’s downloaded,” She tells me, typing away on the keyboard.
“Ice.” I demand.
“I’m fine. Can you find a hard drive? I think there’s a backup in the top drawer.”
“Niamh. Please let me take care of you.”
The door opens a moment later, and both my brothers bundle into the tiny room, the space getting that much tighter. We’re all practically shoulder to shoulder with very little movement to do much of anything.
“What is it?” Silas demands.
“I’d really like to know why the fuck I’m here when I was this close,” Remy holds up his fingers until they’re almost touching, “To finishing the crossword puzzle that has taken me almost two fucking weeks to complete!”
“You do crosswords?” Niamh’s brows hit her hairline.
“I get bored in my free time.” He shrugs. “Wait. Why the fuck is your face bruised?” His head snaps to me. “Why the fuck does she have a bruise?”
Silas homes in on the bruise now too, a fire starting up behind his eyes. “Roman?”
“Jenson stopped by,” I growl out.
“Jenson?” Remy frowns. “As in our father, Jenson?”
“The very one.”
“He fucking touched her?” Silas booms, his voice ricocheting off the walls.
“If we could just,” Niamh waves her hands, “Lower the testosterone a touch, it’s suffocating.”
“He fucking hit you?” Remy growls.
“Technically no,” She shrugs as she spins her laptop around, “The dumpster did.”
She hits play, and the room falls silent as the scene plays out. I thought I was pissed before, but now? Now I’m about to prove Niamh wrong. I am no better because if I see him, Iwillkill him. On sight.
