“Not exactly the priority right now.”
“Suit yourself.” His grin turned wicked. “But if your brother sees that rip, I don’t think he’ll have the self-restraint with Brett that I did.”
Blake pounded again. “Faith! I know you’re in there!”
“Hold your horses!” I yelled back, then turned to Ryker, lowering my voice. “This isn’t over.”
“Not even close,” he agreed, pressing one last kiss to my lips, quick but full of promise. “We’re just getting started, Warrior.”
And as I quickly changed, still flushed and disheveled and absolutely wrecked by what had just happened, I realized he was right. We were just getting started. And that thrilled me almost as much as it terrified me.
39
FAITH
“You don’t need stitches.” Blake pulled the latex gloves off his hands with a sharp snap. “But you do need to watch for infection. Did you hit him in the mouth?”
Ryker sat at my kitchen table, displaying his bruised knuckles like battle trophies. “I hit him everywhere.”
“The mouth is a breeding ground for bacteria.” Blake tossed the gloves into my trash can. “Antibacterial ointment twice a day. Change the dressing. Any redness or signs of infection, you tell me immediately.”
“Will do, Doc.”
My brother’s steely gaze locked on to mine. “You gonna tell me exactly what happened?”
Right. So, Blake had gone full doctor mode the second he arrived, and triaging injuries was priority one. He’d checked me over first, then moved on to assess and treat Ryker’s wounds. Now came the interrogation portion of our evening.
Lucky me.
Heat crept up my cheeks. “My ex-boss is a total douchebag. He tried to turn my situation into leverage. I refused. He got aggressive. I fought back.” I paused. “Oh, and I lost my job. That about covers it.”
“Jesus.” Blake’s jaw could’ve been carved from granite. “What’s his name?”
“Do not answer that.” I jabbed my finger at Ryker with what I hoped was an intimidating glare.
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
Ryker’s lips twitched. “Don’t worry. The guy won’t be bothering her again.”
“If he does …” Blake moved closer, and it hit me how intimidating my brother could look when he wanted to. Tall. Muscular. I knew if push came to shove, Jace and Axel would have his back too.
It almost made me feel sorry for Brett.
Almost.
It struck me then that I, a discarded foster kid, suddenly had this group of men willing to protect me from every angle. Legal problems? Check. Emotional support? Check. Hands-on justice if my scumbag boss stepped out of line again? Also check. The realization wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket.
“He won’t,” I said firmly.
Blake studied me. Then his doctor eyes seemed to reassess, this time lingering on my hair. A crease appeared between his brows. His gaze swept to Ryker’s equally mussed locks.
Oh no.
That’s when I realized that Ryker and I were both sporting the Just Ravaged Each Other hairstyle.
Not good. Blake would not be happy?—
A knock on the front door saved me.
