I just know if that ugly swaggering peacock fuck ever threatens her again in front of me, I’ll be turning his face into a sack of gravel.
Screw the consequences.
He should’ve thought harder before he tried to put his hands on her.
Her breath steadies a little now. Still coming too fast, still not even, but not the panicked gasps I heard earlier.
Good.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you did, Brady. I just ... I don’t want you getting involved with him,” she says quietly, averting her eyes. “He’s not your problem. You’re paying me to look pretty and put on a show, not to hold my baggage.”
Like hell.
But that’s an argument for later.
For now, I need to get her out of this place.
What if he comes back and I’m not here?
I have a sneaking suspicion she won’t go easy, though.
“Feel like getting some fresh air?” I touch her back lightly. “How about getting out of here and heading back to my place? I was thinking pizza tonight.”
“Takeout again?”
“Or I can cook, but I’m not sure you’re ready for that. It’s the one skill I didn’t grow up with. I’ve been trying to teach myself the last couple years, but I still burn thirty percent of my meals that don’t get thrown in a slow cooker.”
“Only one skill?”
“I was a precocious little rat.”
To my relief, she laughs again, sad but genuine.
With one hand lingering on her back, I help her up. “Come on. I’ve got a car waiting out front.”
“Luis? Hang on. I don’t want him to see me like this ...”
“Believe it or not, I drove myself. I can operate a car, you know.”
“Wow! This must be like your third time now? Promise me I’m not risking a broken neck if I ride with you.”
I chuckle at the teasing in her voice.
“Okay, fine. But I need a shower first. I never had a chance, and you’d be surprised how pet smells linger after a full day.”
I give her time to clean up, idly checking my phone for emails in her small living room. There’s nothing groundbreaking today with my food project or my slice of digital media.
Lena’s well-being never leaves my head.
Neither does the impulse to cave her ex’s face in.
When she emerges, she’s dressed down in a T-shirt and jeans. Her face looks a thousand times better without the tear tracks.
I let out a wolf whistle until she blushes.
“Idiot,” she clips, but she doesn’t fight me as I take her arm and we head outside. I check around us as Lena locks up behind me.
No sign of the clown who came here barking threats.
