“I’ll grab some ice,” Luna says, looking at her sister and me, unsure of what the hell to do.
“Sit,” I tell her, moving off the couch and pointing to where my ass just was. “Lemme handle it.”
“But you don’t…”
“Babe,” I say, cocking my head. “I don’t, but I will. Just sit your ass down and be with your sister. I’m sure I’ve nursed more bruised faces than you have. I know what I’m doing.”
“Well, I…” she starts to say, but she quickly snaps her mouth shut and nods at me. She goes to the couch, sitting down next to Rosie, and takes one of her hands in hers, whispering softly.
As I flip on the light in the kitchen, I finally realize the aftermath of the ass-beating I gave the guy. My hands are covered in blood that isn’t my own, and my scarred knuckles have fresh shallow cuts on them.
I smile as I remember, and I know the guy’s face is in way worse shape than my hands. Making quick work, I wash my hands, removing any traces of what happened earlier besides the gashes in my skin that have already stopped bleeding.
I open their freezer and grab a bag of frozen veggies, always preferring it to straight-up ice for my wounds. When I make my way back to the living room, Luna’s still whispering at Rosie’s side.
Luna glances up, meeting my gaze, and I tick my head to the side, telling her as subtly as possible to get lost. Luna takes the hint, moving off the couch as soon as I kneel in front of Rosie, filling her line of sight with only me.
“Babe, I’m going to be gentle,” I say softly, “but this is going to sting a little at first.”
Rosie stares at me, not saying anything and not even blinking a response. When she doesn’t protest, I rest one hand on her knee and lift the bag to her cheek. She winces at the contact, jerking her head back for a second before melting into the coolness.
“You good?” I ask, ignoring the cold against my palm and concentrating on her face and her facial expression.
“A little better,” she whispers.
I move my thumb against her bare skin, relishing the softness and the warmth. “Good, Ro.”
She closes her eyes, tilting her head to take in more of the cold. “Thank you.”
“Babe, no thanks needed. We just need to keep that cheek from swelling any more than it already has. Tomorrow, you’re going to have one helluva bruise too.”
Her eyes snap open and widen. “Shit,” she bites out like she’s suddenly back to reality instead of being inside her head. “This is bad. So bad.”
I give her a gentle smile, still stroking her knee softly, glad she hasn’t pushed me away. “I’ve seen worse. It’ll heal quick, and in a few days, no one will ever know.”
“A few days?” she whispers and closes her eyes. “I don’t have days.”
“You have a hot date?” I ask, immediately regretting the question, because if she does, I’ll be pissed.
“No. No. I have dinner at my grandparents’, and they’ll have more questions than the local sheriff during a murder investigation.”
“Don’t sweat it. Doctor it up with some makeup, and I’m sure they won’t even notice.”
Her shoulders sag. “They’ll notice. I don’t wear makeup often, and just the sight of it will set off their Spidey senses, and they’ll know. They’ll know.”
She’s freaking adorable in her mild panic over her family seeing a bruise on her face. Between my brothers and me, I don’t think we had a time in our childhood when one of us didn’t have a bruise visible on our faces. It was the norm in our family instead of the exception.
I never even knew violence wasn’t part of everyday life until I left my shit-ass childhood home and traveled the country, landing with people who taught me just how fucked up my life had been.
“Cancel. Say you’re sick.”
Her eyes flutter open. “They’ll know I’m lying.”
“Better for them to know you’re lying than to see the shiner you’re going to have, yeah?”
She groans.
I place the veggies next to her on the couch and slide my hand along her jaw until my thumb is resting against her chin. She stares at me as I study her face, taking in the difference from each side. “It won’t be that bad. I know a thing or two about this stuff, baby, and I promise no one will even know and you won’t have any permanent damage.”
She raises her hand, placing it against the back of mine, touching my wounds. “What the…” Her eyes move to my hand as she pulls it away from her face, taking in the cuts. “You’re hurt.”
I smile, loving that she cares. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse, and it was worth every minute.”
The pads of her fingers run between the gashes. “You shouldn’t have…”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t going to let the man hit you again. When I saw him raise his hand, my blood boiled over. I wasn’t going to stand by like the rest of the assholes there and let him hit you again. Not happening. No way. No one’s going to lay a finger on you without getting their ass beat to the point they’ll think twice before touching someone else.”
“That’s just…” She stops, biting her bottom lip.
“Ro, baby, no one’s ever going to lay another hand on you. Not as long as I’m around to make sure that shit never happens again.”
“But—”
“No buts. After tonight, everyone’s going to know.”
“Know what?” she whispers.
“Know you’re mine, and no one touches what’s mine and doesn’t come out looking like they’ve been through a war.”
Her eyes widen. “I’m not yours, Dylan. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m no one’s and most certainly not yours.” She releases my hand but doesn’t move away. “I appreciate your help and the save back there, but there won’t be a next time or an us.”
I move her hand back to her leg with one hand and lift the frozen vegetables back to her cheek with the other. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, babe. There’s fiction, and then there’s reality. The reality is what it is and can’t be changed. Lie to yourself all you want, but tonight made things crystal clear for everyone there, and I have no doubt word will spread quickly.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters.
“I’m living in reality, baby. Ain’t no women around here I’ve ever put myself out for. How do you think it’s going to look to all the assholes who were there tonight? They’re talking and spreading that shit far and wide. Ain’t no stopping the gossip train now, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want it to stop either.”
“But…”
I shake my head again. “I like your sassy mouth and firecracker personality. You’re beautiful, and your body fits against mine like a glove. Doesn’t matter what happened in the past. Doesn’t matter that your dad’s a dick and hates my guts. When shit works and is supposed to happen, you just gotta let it happen.”
Her mouth opens and closes as her breathing intensifies. “We can’t. I can’t. There can’t be…”