Page 28 of Claimed by Him

Thirteen

I could’ve takenhis question as an insult, considering how intense he sounded, but the anger I saw on his face didn’t support that particular theory. He was pissed that I was hurt. Not that that made much sense. He barely knew me.

“It’s nothing,” I said, turning back to the cabinet I was rummaging through. “Give me a moment.”

“Sit down.”

I turned to tell him I was okay and nearly collided with a broad, muscled chest. Damn. For a moment, I actually forgot what had happened and how much I hurt.

“I’m fine.”

He reached out, his hand hovering over my injured cheek. The muscles in his jaw worked, those exquisite eyes of his flashing with a depth of emotion that surprised me.

“I’m assuming you have a good reason for not going to a hospital.”

I started to nod, then winced at the pain in my head. “They’ll want to know what happened, and then they’ll want to know why it happened. Considering how they’ve approached this case, I don’t want to talk to them about it. It could put Meka in danger.”

His expression darkened even more, and a little thrill went through me. “This was because of me?”

“It was a warning,” I admitted. A stab of pain went through me, and I winced. As much as I loved being this close to him, I really wanted to get some painkillers and clean up a bit. “Can we have this discussion after I find the first aid kit?”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure which was hotter, angry Jalen, or sheepish Jalen. I did know that I liked both of them a little too much.

“Sit,” he said again, but his voice was gentler this time. “Where is it?”

I sank into Adare’s seat. “I think it’s in the bottom of the file cabinet over there. I haven’t looked there yet.”

I watched him as he walked across the room, and despite the pain I was in, I had to appreciate that tight ass of his. It was too bad he was completely off limits.

Completely.

“Found it.” He came back in with a small metal box and then went into the bathroom for some wet paper towels.

Instead of handing them over so I could take care of myself, he stepped closer. His fingers held my chin in place as he dabbed at the cut over my eyebrow.

“How bad is it?”

“Not too bad,” he said. “The bleedings already stopped, and I know how to make a butterfly bandage if there’s not one in that kit already. Head wounds bleed a lot, even if they’re shallow.”

“Dealt with a lot of head injuries before?” I asked.

He gave me a wry smile. “I may have gotten into fights a time or two growing up.” He gave a small chuckle before adding, “And fallen out of a tree more than once.”

I laughed, then grimaced. “Bastard hit me in a jaw. Can you hand me one of those Vicodin? Adare left a couple in there from a few weeks back when she had a kidney stone.”

Jalen’s eyes narrowed, his anger back again. He grabbed the bottle and handed it to me. “Tell me what happened.”

It wasn’t a request this time, and a part of me wanted to refuse just to see what he’d do, but he was patching me up, so after I dry swallowed two of the pills, I gave him a quick but complete rundown of my last few hours.

“Fuck,” he growled when I was finished. “I never would’ve…dammit!”

Tension radiated off him, but he still managed to put little butterfly bandages across the cut on my forehead. His fingers lightly traced over my cheek, the touch sending a sizzle of heat through me.

“Anything wrong with any of your teeth?” he asked, his expression serious. “Loose? Hurting? Cracked?”

“No, I think he didn’t hit me as hard as he tried. I was turning my head when it happened.”

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