“So what? You’re a doctor now?”
“No.” He points up ahead and says, “Turn right just up there.”
I do as he says, and we’re pulling into his parking lot. He tells me where to park, and I drive into the spot. I grab his bag from the back seat, then get out of the car, meeting him near the trunk.
I wasn’t planning on staying here with him, but I don’t want him to be alone if something happens and he needs someone. We step into the elevator, and I make sure there is plenty of space between us, not wanting a repeat of what happened in the elevator at work.
I’m pretty sure that if I let him put his hands on me, I’d give in to almost anything he wants. And I can’t have that happening again. Last time I let my guard down, my son being kidnapped was the result.
When we reach his condo, I follow him inside. I place his gym bag on the kitchen counter as he grabs some aspirin for his head. I watch him swallow the pills with a drink of water.
He’s still shirtless, since he didn’t bother showering or changing before we left the warehouse, and I can see that his torso is turning different colors of purple and blue from where he let the guy hit him. His face has dried blood on it, and his eye is starting to swell.
Why did he let that guy beat him like this?
I understand that Soren likes fighting and that he’s good at it, but he didn’t even fight back. He just stood there and took the hits like a fucking fool.
“You’re mad,” he says.
“Yes. Why would you do that?” I ask, waving a hand at his face. “What will your colleagues say?”
“I don’t care.” He shrugs, groaning in pain at the movement.
“You need to shower. Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“I’ll make something.Go.” I shoo him off.
Opening the refrigerator, I see leftover pizza that looks inedible, so I throw it out and grab some pasta and frozen fried chicken. After tossing the chicken into the air fryer to reheat it, I prepare the pasta to place underneath it. When everything is almost done, he walks into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of boxers, appearing tired but clean. And still hot as hell, despite his injuries.
I hate that I like the way he looks.
“It smells good,” he says as I pull the chicken out.
“I cooked whatever you had,” I tell him. “You had leftover pizza in the fridge, but I threw it out.”
“That was from the night I invited you and Oliver over.”
I can’t reply because that goes down as one of the most terrifying nights of my life. It’s not a night I wish to relive. Oliver is safe now, and I will ensure he stays that way because I will never letherget near himeveragain.
“As you probably already know from your research into me, Maya and I didn’t have the greatest upbringing. She was a sick teenager with a drunk father who had gambling issues and used all our money, and I had to step up. I was put in a lot of debt from her medical bills, and before I knew it, I was fighting to make money.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I can’t find it in me to have compassion for her,” I tell him honestly.
“I’m not asking you to. I want to explain to you why I have protected Maya for so long.”
“Was it protection? Is that the word you would use?” I ask as I slide his food over the counter to him, then get him a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Yes, that’s how I saw it.”
“Okay.”
“You disagree?”
“I do. I think you felt guilty, and that led to you enabling Maya’s bad behavior.”
“I would never encourage what she did,” he insists.
