My breath hitches when he spins me around and drops his hands to my fanny pack and deposits it on the counter. He's so gentle as he peels my jeans down my legs, yet his eyes are hard and focused.
My panties go next. He flutters his fingers over my flesh and takes a shuddering breath. "Shirt now," he rumbles and reaches for the hem. It's sticky and gross, making me cringe as he lifts it off me.
Again, he runs his hands over me, even going so far as to spin me around. "Nothing visual," he mutters. "Does your ankle hurt?"
I open my mouth to say no, but I think better of it and nod. "Yeah." My voice is small, but it's honest at least. I think I scared him tonight. "Jamie?"
He turns abruptly and starts the faucet for the tub. It fills quickly as I watch him bustle around, getting the right amount of rose-scented bubbles in it and some shampoo from the shower.The brand I use.
"In," he commands gruffly and grabs my hands.
A ball of emotion gets lodged in my throat as he helps me settle. When he begins washing my hair, I do cry. The bottle of conditioner thunks as he sets it down and reaches for me. Not caring that I'm wet, he hauls me partly out of the tub and into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry!" I cry, not quite sure what I'm apologizing for.
Jamie presses a kiss to my soapy forehead. "I was so scared, V..." Now his voice is gruff with emotion. Or maybe that's how it's been all night.
"You're mad," I force out, needing to know where we stand because this has been weird and intense.
Jamie settles me back into the water. "Not mad," he murmurs. "I'm going to bathe you, then you're getting into my bed and going to sleep. We'll chat tomorrow."
He doesn't want to yell at me now?
"Love you," I whimper, but it comes out sounding like a question.
"I love you too, Sweets. Now rest, please."
Twenty-Seven
JAMIE
Jesus motherfucking hell.
This woman has taken so many fucking years off my life. I wasn't able to calm down until I had her wrapped in my sheets and snoring her little heart out.
I, on the other hand, could not fucking sleep for the life of me. That man, that dead man, had his hands on my woman. My MC contact for the night said he heard her scream right before the bartender yanked her to safety.
My girl fuckingscreamed,and I wasn't there.Again. How many times am I going to fail at protecting her before I learn? She can't be out of my fucking sight ever.
That thought is probably why I barely got any sleep last night. I've just been sitting here, staring at her sleeping form. The image of her trembling and hiding behind Josh is stuck in my mind. She needed me, and I wasn't there.
"You okay?"
Her sweet voice pulls my thoughts from my brain. "You needed me, and I wasn't there."
Violet frowns and rubs her sleepy eyes. It's very early in the morning, but I've already been sipping my coffee for an hournow. She looks adorable and sleep-rumpled as she sits up with the blanket pooling in her lap.
Her nipple draws my attention through the baggy shirt I put her in last night. It's mine of course.
"Jamie, you can't always be there."
I raise a brow. "Definitely not when you ignore me and don't tell me where you are."
"You don't need to know where I am all the time," she defends.
My hands clench on my coffee cup, and she notices, but I press on. "Yes, I do. I need to know where the fuck you’re going to be after dark. I need to know if you’re safe and when you might be vulnerable."
"Jamie," she sighs. "That's controlling."
