19 #3
Then a genuine smile overtakes his face. “Fuck, Love. You have no idea how good it is to see you awake.”
But she can’t take her eyes off his hand and the blood seeping through his fingers, and her own hands that are trembling come to rest over his, applying pressure with him.
“I am sorry. I did not—I did not mean to . . .” Her eyes grow wilder as the seconds pass by, and the tension that had settled somewhat with her eye returning to normal thickens again.
Struggling to have my lungs functioning correctly from, well, everything, I hesitantly take a step towards the two of them.
“Scotty, you need to get that looked at.” Then to Ezla, I say, “And you . . . you scared me to death, Vengeance. You fucking—” The words get caught in my throat, and I scrub a hand over my face, the sheer overwhelm of it all provoking a stinging in my eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” Scotty manages through clenched teeth, and Ezla’s eyes harden at once, some more of her usual self returning.
“You will not,” she grinds out. “You—”
Tate barrels into her, and they almost topple over before he rights them, his large arms crushing her to him. “You can’t leave me, Havoc. You looked— Fuck, you looked dead.” His gravelly voice is hoarse as he buries his face in her hair.
Alby takes that as his cue and rushes over, smacking into her back and clutching onto her desperately.
Ezla stands as stiff as a board, and her eyes slowly move to Tiger, then look between him and Scotty.
“I am . . . sorry,” she repeats, and I’m too messed up from everything else that I can hardly process the shock I think I otherwise would at her words.
“I did not mean to, Tiger. I did not know what I was doing. I—”
Snapping out of his stupor, Tiger races over to them and squeezes between Alby and Tate to wrap his arms around her.
Scotty smiles as he watches them all, but it’s strained with a grimace. And I want to go to Vengeance, too. I want to hold her, to tuck her safely into my arms and tell her it’s all going to be okay like he usually does. But I just . . . I can’t.
I’m envious of him—of all of my brothers.
The ease in which they let all their affection flow into our Bonded, the way that, other than Alby, they so effortlessly seek out the contact and connection they want with her.
They share their feelings so easily, and I think I’m getting better at it, but I want it to be as easy as breathing.
I want to be like Scotty in the way he touches her, sure it’s the right thing to do, sure she’s his.
I want to be like Tiger in the way he pours everything he’s feeling into our Bonded, laying himself bare without fear of judgment or rejection.
I want to be like Tate in the way he expresses his desires so freely, makes it clear what he wants and is confident in the fact he’ll get it.
And yet something holds me back, maybe a little part of me still hung up on my past with my blood brother, Danny.
Maybe a small part of me still wonders if I’m too much like him, or if my outbursts could sometimes remind Ezla of Joseph.
I don’t want to be another man she has to be wary around, even if I know logically that I’d never treat her the way that vile man has her entire life and that I’m not like him.
My jaw clenches before I relax it, and I head over to Scotty. “I’ll take you to the infirmary.”
“You don’t need to,” he says, never taking his eyes off our Bonded.
Ezla’s having one of her rare but increasingly more common moments of hesitancy as she brings her hands up, first pulling a contented groan from Tate as she strokes the back of his head before she gives the same treatment to a puffy-eyed Alby and a distraught Tiger.
“What?” I scoff. “You planning to die so you can kill the whole lot of us?”
That draws his gaze my way. Brows dipping, he asks, “Are you alright?”
My own brows ping up. “That a serious question?”
His attention roves over my face, eyes studying me far too deeply for my liking.
“First, you know damn well I’d never put one of you in danger.
Those tablets that healed me from Tate’s artwork?
Ezla left a handful for me and the rest of you.
I’ll be fine.” I pause at that, and he continues, “Second . . . tell me why you aren’t over there holding our Bonded right now? ”
My spine snaps straight.
Folding my arms across my chest, I shrug nonchalantly. “You’re my brother. You got stabbed, and no one was checking on you. I thought I could wait a moment.”
Tongue pressing into his cheek, he shakes his head. I follow his gaze as it moves back to Ezla, Tate, Tiger, and Alby. “You’re a shit liar.”
I snort. “Thanks, man.”
Sighing, he turns around to leave, finally going to get the before-mentioned tablets, I presume. “Keep an eye on them while I’m gone, would you? I’ll just be a minute.”
“Don’t be stupid, I’ll come with y—”
“Cooper,” he cuts me off, tone firming. “Stay here and make sure our brothers and Bonded are okay. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’ll either talk to me about it or Ezla.”
My lips tighten. Fucking hell, it feels like I’m being scolded by my dad.
“I can walk that far. My room’s the first on the right.
I’ll make it. And I know you want to stay in here, even if you clearly need to get over some shit.
” He sighs heavily, then sways slightly.
I rush forwards, but he holds up a hand to ward me off.
“Stay here,” he instructs again. “If nothing else, just make sure they’re okay.
” He doesn’t give me time to respond before he starts taking painful, stuttering steps for the door.
“No, Scotty. That will be needing the infirmary.”
He pauses, tensing.
Composure mostly regained, though Ezla doesn’t quite manage to bury the worry and guilt I had no fucking clue she could feel, she continues, “I will take you.” Shrugging out of my brothers’ embrace, she takes Tiger’s wrist every so carefully in her hand.
More remorse leaks into her expression. “First, I will give you a tablet for this, Tiger. I am . . . I sincerely apologise.” Throat working, she flicks her eyes Tate’s way.
“And you must take one for your hand.” Then she rearranges her features to match her usual strength, and her voice lowers.
“And then we must all have a much-needed conversation.”