45. Athena
CHAPTER 45
Athena
I ’d love to say I’m not still skittish, but from the second my bedroom doorknob turns, I’m both awake and alert. And a dash beyond terrified.
“It’s just me.” Scott’s quiet voice breaks the silence, making me breathe easier. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“It’s okay.” I don’t move to sit up. Everything’s still sore, and I’m between doses of meds. If he wants me to sit up, he’s going to have to help me.
He sits on the edge of my bed, shifting his weight. Is something wrong? Has something happened?
I press my elbow into the bed to help push me up, but I groan, and he holds an arm out to steady me.
“What’s wrong?” His face is a mix of fear and anguish, and even though it’s not hugely bright in here, there’s a shadow on his cheek.
I run a thumb over the darkness, it’s warm, and swollen. “Did you get into a fight?”
“Kind of.” He won’t meet my gaze, his eyes are filled with tears that look as though they’ll fall at any second, his eyelashes are already glistening.
“Scott, what happened?” I rotate his face, so he’ll look at me, and his eyes are so filled with terror my blood chills. “Scott?”
The fact he’s not answering makes my stomach clench. What the hell happened?
“I did something.” His voice shakes so hard I can barely make out what he’s saying. His body trembles as much as his voice, so much so, he’s scaring the shit out of me.
I cup his face, but he pulls away. “Whatever you did, Gizmo, we can fix it. Tell me what happened.”
Part of me knows what he’s done, but I need to hear him say it out loud. I need him to speak the words so there’s no misunderstanding.
“I went for a run.” His eyes flicker to mine momentarily, and I can tell he went out for a run with the intention of finding trouble. From the blooming bruise on his face, I’d guess that’s exactly what he found.
“Did you run by the football house by any chance?” I’m not going to make this easy on him, though I don’t seem to need to make it any harder, he’s a fucking mess.
Heavy tears fall from his eyes onto his shirt as he nods. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
When he lets his eyes meet mine they’re so troubled, so filled with pain my heart splits.
“Tell me what you did, Scottie.” I don’t let him pull his face from me or hide.
“I beat the shit out of him.”
I expect disappointment, rage even, but instead there’s a tiny glimmer of relief in a deepening well of satisfaction.
“You did?” My voice is shaking now too, and barely above a whisper.
He holds up his hands to show me the cuts and bruises on his knuckles. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, I went out looking for a fight. I know it’s not what you wanted. I tried to stop myself, or to keep on running but he was there.” He pauses to wipe his face. “And he opened his fucking mouth.”
I know how that goes, except for me it was the sudden urge to freeze and urinate, not punch him in his arrogant mouth.
“If you want me to leave, I will. I…” His eyes dance back and forth like he’s checking my face for something, maybe a sign that I want him to stay.
“It’s okay.” I mean the words that come out of my mouth without hesitation.
“It’s not. It’s the one thing you asked me not to do, and I did it.”
It takes all I can not to roll my eyes at him. “One of you was going to do it, Gizmo. At least if I forbade it, chances dropped from all four of you killing a man to one, maybe two.” I shrug, not wrong about the men closest to me in my life.
His brows tent, creasing his forehead in a frown before bouncing up in surprise. “You didn’t mean it?”
I hold a hand up. “I did absolutely mean it. I just knew one of you wouldn’t be able to keep it under wraps.” I try to shift up in the bed. “Look at me. I’m a fucking mess, Scottie. If this was any of you, I’d have peeled the guy’s skin off with a sharp knife and fed it to a rabid raccoon.”
He shudders. “That’s dark.”
“But we have to let the law do what the law does. Even if we can’t always count on it to do the right thing.”
He stares at my broken arm. “He’s still alive.”
I try really hard not to let that spark of disappointment grow or unpack it too much in the moment. That’s something for my therapist and me.
“And the guys.” He gestures to the space outside my room. “They’re working on making it go away.” He swallows hard. “If they can.”
I nod. “They can and they will. Our family has connections, Gizmo. You know that.”
He picks up my broken hand in his two bruised ones. “I deserve to go to prison.”
I snort. “You deserve a fucking medal.”
When his head snaps up the lamp reflects off his shiner. “He got one in on you first, huh?”
He grins and shakes his head. “No. That one’s your brother.”
When my face twists in confusion, he chuckles. “In case the po-po come calling, there’s proof that we were fighting each other and that I wasn’t at all beating your rapist senseless at the football house.”
I groan, covering my face with my good hand. “Do you know how fucking stupid that is?”
He nods. “Yeah, but it felt nice to get hit in the face. And your brothers probably needed to blow off some steam, too. Keep them off the streets, you know?”
I don’t fight the eye roll this time. “You said he’s alive?”
He nods.
“Needs hospital treatment?”
His shoulders sag as he nods again.
“You know what to do if the cops come calling?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s right. Say nothing, ask for your lawyer, and we’ll find one for you.”
He jabs a thumb toward the wall. “They’ve got me covered.”
“I bet they do.” I can’t stop myself from touching his face. “I may not have wanted you to get in trouble for hurting him, but I’m not upset that you did.”
He closes his eyes, sending waves of fresh tears down his face. “I was afraid you’d be done with me, Bright Eyes. You probably should be.”
I pull him toward me, dropping a peck on his tear-soaked cheek. “No. Not done with you at all. It’s very sweet that you’re so concerned with my wishes like that, and I’m going to need a shit ton of your patience over the coming months, but I’m not done.”
He levels me with the most sincere and genuine stare I’ve ever seen from him. “I’m always concerned with your wishes, Athena. When I hit him, I figured I’d make you angry, or lose you entirely because of it, and I still couldn’t stop railing on him. He deserved every hit.” He shivers again like he’s disgusted with himself. “But ultimately, I only ever want to make you happy, and this wasn’t it.”
I smile, even though my face still hurts when I do. “I guess we’re cut from the same cloth then, Gizmo. Because I’m supremely happy that piece of shit got his ass handed to him. And now we just need to make sure you don’t go to jail for it.”
The fear in his eyes expands, almost drinking all the color from his irises. “It’s where I belong, Athena. It’s just a matter of time before I end up there, just like my cousins.”
I flex my hand. “Scott Raine, it’s taking all I have not to smack you myself.”
He tips his head like he’s trying to decide if he’d like that or not, so I shove his shoulder instead.
“No one telling you you’re better than that, or worth more will do anything to help you feel more worthy. Self-worth is a journey from within. It’s not quick or easy, but if you don’t start it, you’ll never fucking get there. So, can you get started on it please? I can’t have our kids absorbing all this self-loathing from their father.”
He blinks at me like whatever computer chip runs his brain is malfunctioning. And when his open mouth gives no words, he blinks again, and again. Eventually, he licks his lips. “Did you just say our kids?”
I nod. “Someday, sure. But only when you’ve gotten over this ‘wah wah wah I’m not good enough to live’ shit. Because our kids will know they’re worthy of every good thing, especially love.”
He looks at my lips like he’s aching to kiss me, and I’m surprised to find that I am, too, so I lean forward. He captures my lips in the tenderest of embraces, a gentle caress to tell me he loves me before he pulls back.
“I want to be the man you think I can be, Athena.”
I pick up his hand and kiss the back of each bruised knuckle one by one. “You already are.”