Chapter 8 #2
Shit. I should have thought of that. Not only is Grant a good friend, but he also owns a construction company in town and should be able to replace the windows right away so Jess doesn’t have to deal with it.
“Thanks,” I throw over my shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
Then I close the rest of the distance to the bathroom, where I hear two voices—one male, one female—talking quietly. In the seconds before I see her, I try to reassure myself. Jess doesn’t sound like she’s hurt. Noah would have said something if she was.
Unless he doesn’t know. Unless Kyle is still triaging Jess and she’s?—
“Kane!”
As soon as I get to the bathroom doorway, Jess leaps up from the floor and races to me. I don’t even get a good look at her before she flings herself into my arms and burrows her face into the crook of my neck, dampening my skin with hot tears.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I croon. I hug her to me, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“It’s okay,” she mumbles against my neck. “I’m just glad you came.”
Does she really think I wouldn’t come?
“Of course I came.” Setting her away from me, I inspect Jess’s face. It’s tear-stained and swollen with tears, but otherwise unharmed. “Are you hurt anywhere? No one touched you, did they?”
“She said no one got inside,” Kyle interjects. “But it looks like she may have cut her feet. Nothing too serious, but I think she may have some glass?—”
“What?”
I glance at Jess’s feet. They’re bare and streaked with red. The floor is spotted with crimson splatters of blood. And then I spot her hand, clenched into a fist with a red-stained tissue wadded in it.
Worry and rage come roaring forward again.
She’s hurt. Just like I feared. And the fucking asshole who did this is going to pay.
Without waiting for a response, I sweep Jess into my arms.
She clutches my shoulder with her uninjured hand. “Kane! What are you doing?”
“You’re hurt.” My voice is rough. “You can’t be standing on your feet. Not when they’re all cut up. I need to get you looked at.” Hugging her closer to me, I turn to Kyle. “Are the paramedics on the way? Do you know who’s en route?”
“They are,” he affirms. “Ben and Willow are on the way. They should be here any minute.”
And like he conjured them, another siren approaches.
“Come on,” I tell Jess. “Let’s get you someplace more comfortable than the bathroom floor.” I snag a towel off the rack as I carry her out of the bathroom. Rather than bring her back downstairs to be reminded of the damage to her house, I take her into the bedroom instead.
I set her down on the mattress and crouch in front of her.
Lifting one foot, then the other, I check them for injuries, biting back a curse when I discover two large shards of glass embedded in her skin.
I take the towel and put it on the floor beneath her feet so she doesn’t bleed all over the carpet—not because I care, but I know Jess will be upset if it gets ruined.
Taking her hand gently in mine, I pull away the tissue to find a jagged cut across her palm, still bleeding sluggishly.
Rage sweeps through me again.
I’ve been angry a lot of times in my job. I think it goes with the territory. But seeing Jess hurt goes so much deeper than that.
“What happened, sweetheart?” I ask. “You stepped on some glass, I’m guessing. But your hand?—”
“They broke my mom’s lobster,” she blurts. Then she lowers her head and starts to cry again. “Her glass lobster. From Maine. I know it sounds stupid, but it was her favorite.”
Ah, fuck.
Is this how my friends felt when their women were in pain? Like their chest was torn open and bleeding? Like nothing would be okay until they could fix it?
“Oh, Jess.” I lean forward and gather her into my arms. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know it’s just… a little thing,” she says through loud sniffs. “But it was my mom’s. And now it’s ruined.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and although I don’t want to take my attention away from Jess for a second, considering the circumstances, I know I need to check it.
Then I read the message from Oliver and wish I hadn’t .
One of the rocks had a message painted on it: Leave town. So I think it’s a pretty clear message.
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath.
Jess lifts her head to meet my gaze. “What is it?”
Shit. I can’t tell her now. Not when she’s so upset already.
“Just Oliver,” I say vaguely, hoping she won’t push me on it. And thankfully, she doesn’t.
“What am I going to do, Kane?” she asks. “I can’t stay here. The windows… Should I find a hotel? Is it too late tonight? Should I?—”
Relief floods though me.
This , I can fix.
“You can come stay with me.”
Her forehead crinkles in confusion. “Stay at your house?”
“Yes. I’ve got plenty of security, and I’ll make damn sure you’re safe. And I’ve got a good-sized guest room, my mom stays there when she visits, so it’s actually decorated. And I can carry you around so you can rest your feet.”
She stares at me for a few seconds, still with that same confused expression. “But you don’t think it’s too soon?”
“If you don’t want to, we can call Cash and Ari. Their place is safe. So is Ben and Thea’s. Or I could talk to the guys at Blade and Arrow…”
“No. It’s not that. I… I don’t want to stay with them. But I don’t want to push myself on you. I mean, we haven’t talked about us, or what we’re doing, or?—”
A rare flare of nerves hits my belly. But I’m not backing down. Not unless Jess wants me to. “You’re my girlfriend, Jess. Or at least, I hope you are. And I want you to stay with me. I want to make sure you’re okay. But if you’d rather go to a hotel, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
New voices enter the house, crisp and authoritative. Ben and Willow, from the sound of it.
Jess glances at the bedroom door. Then she looks back at me. “I’d like to… But are you sure you don’t mind?”
Mind having Jess with me? Mind taking care of her? Mind knowing she’ll be safe?
There’s absolutely no question.
“I don’t mind,” I tell her firmly. Cupping her cheek in my hand, I stroke my thumb across her satiny skin. “I want you there, Jess. If you want to be.”
Several seconds pass without an answer. Seconds that feel like hours as I imagine her telling me no, that she’s not ready. That she’d rather stay at a hotel—which I’ll accept, but won’t be pleased about—than stay with me.
But then.
She gives me a watery smile. “Yes. I’d really like to stay with you.”
Oh.
Is it wrong to feel happy when everything is such a mess?
“Good,” I reply. I press a soft kiss to her lips. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
Jess sags against me and rests her head on my shoulder. “Okay, Kane.”
I know she doesn’t believe me yet. But I’ll prove it.
And I’m not letting her get hurt again.