Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Bobby, let her go.”
He looks back at Stacy then at me.
“Bobby. I’m okay.”
He blinks, then suddenly he transforms back to the man I know. He releases her abruptly and steps back. “Fuck.”
Stacy lurches away, snatches up her top then runs in her platform heels to grab her purse from the kitchen, leaving without another word or backward glance.
When Bobby turns his gaze back to me, his expression is wracked with horror.
Bobby
Fuck. What have I done?
Contrary to what Stacy asserted, I don’t abuse women. At least I haven’t until now. I just saw Lexi bleeding, and my brain registered her injury as life-threatening. The urge to eliminate all threats to Lexi’s life overcame me.
I didn’t mean to manhandle Stacy.
Even now, I’m still in shock. I know I need to work my ass off to fix this situation right now, but I can’t seem to make myself move.
“Lexi,” I croak.
Unbelievably, she doesn’t seem furious. She’s not rushing to pack her bags and move out. “It’s okay.” She takes my arm. “I’m okay, Bobby.”
“No, you’re not,” I manage to say. Blood still streams down her arm, dripping onto the carpet.
The image of my father, bleeding out behind the wheel of his Mercedes as I crouched on the floorboard and pulled his gun from the glove box…fuck.
I thought I was long past this.
Lexi calmly walks to the kitchen, and I finally make myself move to follow. “No, stay out there,” she tells me. “I’m going to clean this up, so you don’t have to look at it.”
My brain barely registers what she’s saying. So I…don’t have to look? Is she actually taking care of me in this situation?
I’m the fuck-up here.
I move, jerky-limbed, to clean up the glass on the floor. When I bring it into the kitchen, Lexi has cleaned the blood off her arm and is attempting to pry a smaller piece of glass from her flesh.
“Let me, baby. May I?” My voice sounds hoarse.
She nods, and I gently tug her under the light, so I can locate the offending sliver. I want to pull her into my arms but don’t dare because I’m not sure where we stand after that dose of crazytown. After what I just did. “I’m so sorry.”
I have to blink and control my breath because the sight of her blood seeping around my fingers keeps making me flash to my father. The way the blood poured down the side of his face after his forehead hit the steering wheel. The crunch and scream of metal as the car crashed into the streetlight.
“I’m okay, Bobby. Are you okay?” Her breath is soft on my face. I’m the kinda guy who doesn’t like to show weakness, but for some reason, it feels okay that Lexi knows I lost my shit back there. That I’m still losing my shit.
My fingernail scrapes over the shard of glass, and she jerks. “Sorry sweetheart. I’ve almost got it.”
A couple more scrapes, and I manage to extricate the glass. “Got it.” I show her the tiny sliver on the pad of my index finger. I’m breathing heavily, like I just finished a workout.
“Thanks.”
I swallow. “Lexi...I don’t even know what to say. I guess I thought you were in danger, and I just sort of…overreacted.”
“Was it the blood?”
I draw in a breath and let it out. “It was…yeah, I think that’s what happened.” I stab my fingers through my hair. “Cristo.” I spread my hands. “I’ve never touched her like that before. You gotta believe me. I don’t hurt women, Lex. I mean–”
“I know.” Unbelievably, she wraps her arms around my waist and lays her face against my chest.
I exhale, holding her close, kissing the top of her head. “Those things she said–”
“She’s a liar,” Lexi interrupts. “I should’ve kicked her out the moment I got home. I’m just so damn gullible.”
“No.” I cradle Lexi’s face to lift it to mine. “No, baby. You’re sweet as fuck. You’re kind and agreeable and being rude isn’t in your nature.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t actually invite her here for a threesome.”
My upper lip curls. “Is that what she told you?”
“Yeah. So…”
She trails off, but I follow the thread of her thoughts. “And you wanted to please me, so you went along with it.”
She shrugs. “Sort of. Yeah… I didn’t know what to do.”
I pull her roughly against me again. “Sweet as fuck,” I mutter, kissing the top of her head. “How can I make this up to you?”
She lifts that dazzling blue gaze. “Well, I thought you were taking me to dinner.”
“I sure as hell am.”
She walks to the closet and pulls out a broom and dustpan.
I take it from her and point to the bar stool in front of the breakfast bar. “You sit. Don’t move. I’ll get you a bandage for that cut, and then I’ll clean up the mess.” I find an adhesive bandage in the bathroom and return, applying it to her arm, needing to take care of her like I need my next breath.