“Much. Thank you.”
I find myself hovering. Maybe I should give her some space, but everything inside me rebels at the idea of leaving her alone when she’s vulnerable. She’s safe in our home—or should be—but damn it, I thought she was safe earlier too.
She grabs a nightshirt out of the closet and goes into the bathroom. I park myself on the bench and watch the door, fantasizing about inventive ways I can destroy Karl.
Something clatters inside, followed by a sharp inhale.
“Are you okay?” I move toward the door. She might’ve tripped.Shit. I should’ve been—
“I’m fine!” She doesn’t sound like she’s in pain. “I’m just…a mess.”
Guess she saw her reflection. I want to soothe her, but I’m not sure if more tenderness is what she needs right now, especially after all that crying.
“You should see the other guy,” I say, overly casual.
There’s a beat of silence, then a small giggle. “What happened to Karl?”
“He, uh, fell down some stairs. And then ran into a couple of doorknobs.”
“Gosh, that’s too bad.”
“Hey, shit happens when you don’t exercise good judgment.”
She makes a littlego onnoise, but she doesn’t need to know the details. Hell, I probably don’t remember everything myself. I was too furious to care about anything except kicking his ass.
She comes out of the bathroom, still fully dressed. Her hair’s down completely, the pins gone. “Um. I need your help. I can’t reach the top of my zipper. My back’s a little too sore.” Then she turns around, pulling her hair to one side.
The top half of her outfit is made of sheer white material. As I tug at the zipper and pull it down, the dress parts. What I see puts a red haze over my vision again.
Purplish bars mar her otherwise smooth and flawless skin. She must’ve really slammed into the shelves when Karl hit her.
The damage I’ve dealt him isn’t even close to evening the scales. But they’ll be even—and more—by the time I’m done with him.
She slips into the bathroom when the zipper’s undone. I pace as rage roils through me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out.
–Emmett: All good and taken care of.
–Grant: If anybody noticed you weren’t around, they didn’t say. They probably assumed you were doing newlywed things.
Good. Even if anybody wanted to probe, Grant would make sure they kept their curiosity to themselves. He’s affable and friendly because he knows people want him to be a good guy, but he unleashes his inner asshole when necessary.
–Me: Thanks.
–Nicholas: How’s Lucie holding up?
–Me: Better than expected, considering. But I still feel like I haven’t done enough.
My brothers will know exactly what I mean.
–Griffin: I just want you to know that after you left, I kind of tripped over him.
–Huxley: I’ve never heard a man hit a note that high.
I smile at the text. Griffin is an excellent kickboxer.
–Noah: Take photos of her bruises. In case Mister Shoulda-been-worm-food tries to do something. Like sue, or get the police involved.
