Page 118 of Scars Run Deep

Killian clasped his shoulder. “I know it, brother.”

“Thank you. All of you.”

All three of them stared at me, wide eyes, cocked eyebrows.

“What?”

“We’d been waiting on your usual I-could’ve-handled-it response,” Jonah told me.

I grinned. “Well, I could have, but it was nice to have backup.”

“We’re a team now,” Killian said, running his fingers over my skull ring. “We’ve always got you, darlin’.”

“Even when you don’t necessarily believe you want it,” Asher spoke, rather ominously.

“What does that mean?”

He finished treating my cheek, the lip just needing to heal, along with the red handprint around my throat. He snatched up the ice pack he’d brought out a little while ago. “Hold this to that black eye for ten minutes. It’ll help with the swelling. It’s mild, but it’s still going to leave a bruise.”

“Those fuckers won’t bother you again,” Jonah growled.

“They should never have gotten close in the first place,” Killian said.

“I agree, but it’s been dealt with now,” Asher said, his eyes flashing at Killian. “We need to let it go.”

“Because of me?” I asked, picking up on some subtext there. And also Killian actually not just agreeing, but wanting me to take a break. “You’re all worried I’ll go after them in a bloodlusting rampage? Is that it?”

“You wanted to go after Liza before,” Asher pointed out.

“That was then.”

“And she’s since escalated. They threatened to have you gang raped, Aurora.”

“Threatened. It didn’t happen and it wouldn’t have even if you guys and Ronan hadn’t shown up. I would’ve stopped them.”

“And you would’ve lost control. That sort of thing is one of your triggers, something I discerned from your reactions during our dollhouse takedowns.”

“I think that sort of thing would anger anybody and have them freaking the fuck out.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m not going after her or her accomplices. You said you’ve dealt with it, I believe you. I’m content with that.” I grunted, then took a couple of sips of my drink, wincing as it burned my cut lip.

“You want a straw?” Jonah asked.

“I’m okay, thanks.” I glared at Asher. “I can handle it.”

He was on his way to putting the first-aid kit away in the cabinet, but at my words he stilled, then slammed it down on the kitchen island, his eyes flashing my way.

It had all of us jolting, especially given that he didn’t usually rage and lose his temper.

“You can’t handle it.”

“What?” I snapped, shooting to my feet.

“Fuck, Ash,” Killian grumbled as I brushed past him, storming over to Asher.

“No! No more kid gloves. You begged me to play it nice and gentle with this issue, but it’s not working, as you can damn well see!”

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