“Tell me.” My voice rose.
She lowered hers. “Daddy just wanted to pay Scott off so he’d stay away from you.”
My stomach dropped. “You told him where Scott worked?”
“I thought if he was out of the picture, you could move on.”
“Do you even—” I unclipped my seatbelt with shaking hands. “Do you even know what you’ve done?”
Melanie’s composure cracked as she scrambled for anything that might excuse her behavior. “He took the check, okay? He took it instead of fighting for you. That should tell you the kind of man he is. And then… I overheard Daddy say Scott made some rude comment about you, so he sent Miller in to… to teach him manners.” She shrank under my stare. “Scott’s fine. Just a bruise, Daddy said.”
But I was already standing.
“Michelle, what are you doing?”
“What I should have done yesterday.” My voice shook with fury as I yanked my carry-on from the overhead. “Getting the hell away from all of you.”
I wove through the oncoming passengers and walked off the plane.
The taxi droppedme off at the driveway, and I sprinted for the garage. The side door was open, and so was the door above. I heard voices echoing from inside, frantic and overlapping, as I raced up the stairs, my heart hammering.
“…he’s got at least two broken ribs,” a woman was saying, her tone clipped and controlled. “If one of them punctured a lung—”
“I told you, I’m fine,” Scott rasped. Except he didn’t sound fine.
When I stepped onto the landing, nothing could have prepared me. Scott was slumped against the wall, his legs sprawled, one arm tight around his torso like he was literallyholding himself together. His right eye was swollen completely shut, the lid so purple it looked painted on. His shirt hung open, soaked through with dark stains that spread out from his ribs, and every shallow breath made his whole body flinch.
I stopped cold. My hand flew to my mouth as the truth sank in. This was my fault. My father’s order. The price Scott had paid for loving me.
Thankfully he wasn’t alone; he was being tended to by April and another woman. With their backs turned, neither noticed me. But Scott did.
He tilted his head, found me with his one good eye, and said, “You’re not going to believe this… but I don’t think your dad likes me.”
The comment was so unexpected and so miserably accurate that my shock tangled with a laugh and escaped my throat like a frog’s ribbit.
April spun around, blazing with fury. “You!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Do you see what you did to him?”
Despite everything, Scott managed a ghost of that reckless grin. Through a jaw that could barely open, he said, “Hey, give me some credit. I didn’t get taken down by no girl.”
The other woman looked up from her triage, also assessing me with contempt. Clearly April’s mother. “Not now,” she snapped at her daughter. “We’ve got bigger problems.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“You’ve done enough,” April shot back, her gaze dragging over me. “We wouldn’t want to get blood on your designer dress.”
My cheeks burned knowing how this must look to them. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I get it.”
“Do you?” she snapped. “He was lying here alone for hours before we found him. All this blood is on your hands, and you look like you stepped off a damn Concorde flight.”
I stood there in my midnight blue Donna Karan silk wrap dress and diamond studs, the picture of privilege, while Scott bled into the towels she was pressing against his flesh. I understood the scorn, but I’d already apologized to April once. The next one belonged to Scott.
“I can take my dress off if it’s distracting you.”
“Yes,” Scott said, raising a bloody hand. “I vote for that.”
April shook her head, disgust flashing across her face. “Go home, princess. You don’t belong here.”
She turned back to Scott, muttering something under her breath. Her words didn’t matter. If anything, they made me dig in, and before I even realized I was moving, I was on my knees in front of him, taking his face in shaking hands. His skin was hot and slick under my palms, his pulse thudding weakly at his temple.
