Page 11 of Wild Hearts

Once we enter the tiny apartment, I guide Grace to a beige and green couch before figuring out where the first aid kit is and gathering supplies for her wound.

“Moment of truth,” I say as I sit next to her. “Let’s see how bad this cut really is.”

“You don’t have to stay. I can take it from here.”

“Nice try, but I’m not leaving until it’s clear you’re okay.” The cut is underneath her ponytail, and I have her hold it to the side so I can see better. “Do you have a headache or anything?”

I remove the makeshift bandage, carefully separating the thin cloth from the riot of curls stuck to it.

“Not really. I’m a little tired, but that’s probably because it’s still early.”

She’s right. It’s only 7:30. Everything happened so quickly.

“Or you have a concussion.” I dab at the dried blood with a wet cloth from the kitchen until the wound becomes visible. “You’ll probably have a scar, but I don’t think it needs stitches since it stopped bleeding.”

“That’s a relief.”

I hum in agreement, cleaning her up a little better. Red stains her neck and shirt—a little more blood and she could give Carrie a run for her money. “I’m no doctor, but I think we should leave this open to heal since I can’t exactly put a bandage over your hair… Unless you’d consider shaving?” I tease before moving on to her other scrapes.

Grace snorts. “I’m not the one who needs a haircut.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glance up to find her cheeks flushed.

“Nevermind. Thanks for… this.” The last is hissed out as she flinches from the sting of alcohol.

“Sorry,” I murmur, blowing gently over the spot. “Come on, tell me. You don’t approve of my look?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply…” she stammers, shrugging her shoulders. “Your look kind of says… um… mountain man? But not in a bad way. I shouldn’t have said anything. Kayla’s diatribe must’ve gotten in my head.”

“Kayla Casey? What else did she say about me?” No surprise that bitch is still trying to fuck with me.

“Nothing, really… I’m sorry I brought it up. It’s your body. You can do what you want.”

“Did she tell you how I refused her when she showed up at my home, naked beneath a trenchcoat? Like a cringey scene out of the movies.” Grace’s expression reflects her shock. “And that was just last month. She’s been panting after me since high school.”

“Last month? But she’s married.” Confusion laces her words, and a harsh bark of laughter rumbles from my chest.

“Married? Who fucking cares? Vows mean nothing to her. I’m pretty sure she and Brandon have fucked around on each other for years now.”

Judging by the stunned look on her face, the news doesn’t sit well, but if Kayla is going to slander my name, the least I can do in return is share the truth.

“I think you should go now,” Grace whispers.

“Why? Because I shattered your illusion of perfect fucking Kayla?”

“No.” She shifts to a single chair across from the couch. Shadow sits in front of her and rests his head on her lap. “Because I suffered a head injury and want to be alone.”

Fuck. Thinking about that bitch Kayla had me completely forgetting the whole reason I’m here. Another apology falls from my lips, and I can’t help but wonder what it is about this girl that’s had me issue two apologies within the hour.

“Are you sure you should be alone? I can stay.” I don’t know why I’m offering. I know she’ll turn me down, especially after my frustration with Kayla’s lies got the best of me. But an idiotic part of my brain hopes Grace won’t make me leave. That she’ll see I’m not the loser Kayla and her posse painted me to be.

“I’m sure. I’ve got Shadow if anything happens, which it won’t. Plus, my roommate Elsie should be home soon from this breakfast thing she had to attend. Thanks again for everything, and I’m sorry for hitting you with my bike.”

Dismissed.

It’s obvious I’m no longer welcome.

Hell, that’s the story of my life.

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