“No…ambulance. No cops…” I staggered out of her grip, reeling.
“Ronan, stop. Come inside.”
“I’ll scare the girls.” I peered around in the dark night, trying to get my bearings.
Shiloh. Fuck….
“Where are you going? You have to make a statement.”
“No.” I rounded on her. My face must’ve been a horror show—she recoiled, her eyes wide. “Maryann, listen to me. Listen to me. He’ll come for you.”
He’ll come for Shiloh, I thought drunkenly. He’s going there now.
“He’s not coming for me,” Maryann said, incredulous. “He’s going to jail for what he did to you.”
“No,” I said, my voice slurry. “Please leave my name out of it. Leave it alone. For your sake. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
The sirens were getting louder. I shoved out of her grasping hands.
“Ronan…”
I ignored her, hurrying as fast as I could.
Not too late. Please, don’t let me be too late…
Chapter Twenty-Three
As I pulled the Buick into my drive, the headlights lit up a dark figure sitting slumped on our steps.
“Oh my God…”
I slammed to a stop and killed the engine. My fingers fumbled to yank the keys from the ignition, and then I tore out of the car, leaving the milk and eggs from my grocery store run on the seat. At the front walk I stopped, my blood thrashing in my ears.
Ronan sat hunched over on the middle step, chin to chest, arms resting on his thighs.
“Ronan…?”
He raised his head, and both my hands flew to my mouth to keep a scream from bursting out.
“Jesus Christ!”
One of Ronan’s eyes was swollen shut, a shiny mess of blue and purple. Blood stained his chin; his nose was horribly broken. He peered at me through one eye, confused. As if he were drunk.
I hurried to his side and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He winced, and a groan of pain issued from his throat. I jerked my hands back.
“My God, what happened?”
Panic was lighting up my veins and I fought for calm while my heart felt a sensation I’d never known—to see him in so much pain.
“Shiloh?” His voice was a croak. He sat up a little, looking around. “Where…?”
“You’re at my house. You don’t remember? God, I’m calling an ambulance—”
“No!” He tried to get to his feet and sat back down. Fear lit up his good eye. “Are you okay…?”
“Me? Ronan, who did this to you?”
He didn’t hear me or wasn’t listening. He looked around blearily. “I shouldn’t have come here. I thought they might… No. Fucking stupid. I shouldn’t be here.” He got to his feet, his body hunched over and wincing in pain. He looked around as if unsure what to do next. “I have to go…”
They hurt him. They hurt him so bad…
I gripped his arm through his denim jacket as gently as I could while still keeping hold of him. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re coming inside. Right now.”
I guessed he was too weak or confused to argue because he let me take him inside. Bibi was in her room, her door closed. I longed for her help and advice but didn’t want to scare her as badly as I was. Quietly, I led Ronan to my room. He leaned heavily on me, his steps stumbling. I sat him on my bed where he slumped over in the dim glow of the rainbow lights.
“Stay right there,” I told him, though he looked like he could hardly lift his head.
I hurried to my bathroom, keeping my focus on my task so my mind wouldn’t spin out into outright panic. I grabbed a towel and the same first aid kit I’d used to clean his cut all those months ago, then hurried to the kitchen. I took an icepack from the freezer and filled a bowl with warm water from the sink.
In my room, Ronan was in the same position I’d left him. I set my supplies on my dresser, not knowing where to begin. With a shaky hand, I touched his bloody chin and gently lifted his head.
Tears filled my eyes. “Oh, baby…”
“Shiloh, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t say that,” I said, sucking in a breath, willing the tears back. “I’m going to take care of you. But Ronan, your nose is broken. Badly. You need a doctor.”
“No doctor. I’ll fix it.”
He tried to take off his jacket and winced. I helped him out of it, scared to death at what lay beneath his T-shirt, and Ronan hauled himself to his feet. In the bathroom, under the harsh fluorescents, he looked even worse. His skin was pale where it wasn’t bloody, his puffed eye a rainbow of purples and blues, his nose flat against one cheek.
He raised his head and looked at his reflection. Beneath the blood and swelling, his expression was heartbreakingly sad. Hopeless. He propped himself up on the sink with both hands for a moment, head hung.
I wrapped my fingers around his arm and carefully rested my cheek on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” I whispered weakly. “We’ll make it okay. I promise.”
He inhaled, steeling himself, and then stood straight. Stoic. “You might want to look away,” he said dully.
“No,” I said, my voice hard. “I’m right here with you.”
He nodded and then turned back to the mirror, mentally bracing himself. He huffed three breaths in rapid succession, gripped his nose, and set it with an audible crack. A hoarse cry issued from his throat and fresh blood splattered the white porcelain sink. His nose was now more or less straight, though it was too swollen to tell.
“I’m sorry…” he croaked. “The mess…”
“Doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is making you better, okay?”
I opened the bathroom door and peered down the hall. Bibi’s door was still closed.
“Go,” I said, gently pushing him back to my room. “I’ll be right there.”
He went and I rinsed the sink out, cleaned the spatters of blood off the faucet, the tears threatening again. In my room, Ronan was back on the bed. I shut the door and knelt in front of him.
“Who did this to you?” I asked as I unlaced his boots. “Tell me.”
“Grimaldi.”
“And?”
“No one else.”
“I don’t believe you. You could take Grimaldi one-handed.”
“He got the jump on me.”
“Ronan…”
“Doesn’t matter, Shiloh.” His voice was stronger now. Clearer. “I shouldn’t have come here. I thought…”
“What?”
He didn’t answer and I let it go. For now.
“We’ll talk about it later. We need to get you cleaned up and you need to sleep.”
I stood and carefully lifted his T-shirt—the first time I’d seen him with it off despite everything we’d done over the last few weeks. Being naked was my last holdout against intimacy, though I’d wanted desperately to see him and touch him. Put my mouth on his skin and the magnificent body I felt under my hands.
But not like this. Not like this…
Ronan was covered in bruises—dark shadows in the dim light—except for one angry splash of reddish purple on the left side of his ribs.