And that dead, unbeating thing inside my chest suddenly goes into overdrive.
“What?” I bark.
She flinches, and I feel something that almost resembles regret, but I push it aside.
Seeing her only brings that irrational anger rushing back.
“Are you protecting your lover?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her.
“Did you let him touch what’s mine? Were you with him all day? All night? Is he your fucking husband?”
“Hunter,” she whispers weakly.
But I wrench my arm from her grasp as though her touch burns.
Because it bloody does.
“He’s fucking dead,” I say and take a step towards the door.
I barely make it two paces before a thud sounds behind me.
The noise has me turning instantly, only to find Piper collapsed on the floor.
“Fuck.”
I cross the distance in seconds and drop beside her, lifting her head into my lap as I push her hair away from her face.
A bruise mars her temple.
It’s been concealed with makeup and hidden beneath her hair, but now that I’ve noticed it, I can’t unsee it.
All I see is red.
Piper needs me right now, so I force it down, but the bastard who put that mark on her is as good as dead.
I press two fingers to her neck, searching for her pulse, and when I feel it beneath my fingertips, strong and steady, some of the tension leaves me.
She has only fainted.
But the wordonlyhas no place where Piper is concerned.
Why would she faint?
She does look pale, and she’s definitely lost weight over the last few weeks, but that doesn’t explain this.
Carefully, I scoop her into my arms and carry her upstairs. I let myself into her dorm room and lay her on the bed.
I drag the chair beside her desk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in mine.
I need to break someone’s face.
Julian’s preferably.
Someone hurt her.
Again.
