Page 18 of My Damaged Protector

I want to punch someone, preferably the two men that did this to him. But who am I kidding? If they can do this to Ian, who I know to be a strong man, what harm could my punch possibly do to them?

It wouldn't hurt to at least try, though.

He looks so much older, so different from the man whose mouth I was ravishing just a few hours ago.

I want to kick whoever did this to his face in the nuts.

He stopped walking as soon as he saw me, so now we're both just standing awkwardly, staring at each other, neither of us saying anything.

I contemplate turning back and just going home after five minutes of awkward silence, but the way he looks just won't let me. I can't stomach leaving him here all alone, so I decide to break the silence.

“Have you been discharged?” I ask, even though I already know the answer to the question.

I do have to start somewhere, right?

He nods at my words, his left hand coming up to rub his jaw. Even with his beat-up face, he still has an edge of appeal to him.

Will I ever stop wanting this man?

The nod is all I get in response from him, and then we're back to the awkward silence.

Okay, at least no one will be able to say I didn’t try.

Moving out of the hallway so I don't block anyone who may want to pass, I go to rest by the wall, my eyes fixed on him so heknows I'm here for him, and I'm willing to stay here for however long it takes him to speak.

It takes him a full minute before he breaks under my gaze.

He sighs in frustration, his face turning into a frown before he speaks.

“I wasn't expecting to see you here. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?”

“Well, maybe if you hadn't gotten yourself involved in a situation that was totally none of your business, I would be asleep,” I shoot back at him in annoyance.

I come out here to see him, and he's asking me why I’m not asleep?

Asshole.

“Damn, nothing is a secret around here,” he mutters, his eyes intentionally avoiding mine. My eyes remain on him as he looks everywhere but me. “Look, um, about earlier. I'm sorry for leaving without telling you. I didn't mean…” He trails off, struggling for words to justify himself. He sighs again, runs a hand through his hair, and then opens his mouth to speak.

“Do you need a ride back to the motel?” I cut him off, not willing to remain silent for another second, and watch him try to feed me bullshit.

He left voluntarily. He had his reasons, whatever they were, and I don't want to hear them. Or at least, I'd like to pretend not to.

His head flips up at my words. His eyes search through mine. Whatever it is he's looking to find, I don't think he does judging by the defeated look that mars his already dented face.

“Yes, please. That's if it wouldn't be too stressful for you, of course.”

And now he cares about me. Please.

Rolling my eyes, I turn to walk away from him.

“The car is outside,” I say loudly as I continue walking, not once pausing to check if he's following me. If he chooses not to, then that's his loss. At least I can go back home and get back to what I was doing without feeling guilty.

As I pass through the hospital reception, I meet with a couple of people I know and exchange quick pleasantries with them. I see Ian in the corner of my eye, occasionally waiting a few feet behind me every time I pause to exchange greetings with someone. By the time we successfully make it to the car, I let out a sigh of relief.

Being a people-person can be a good thing in some moments, but most times, it can be quite tedious. You're saddled with responsibilities and expectations that can be too much to keep up with, especially in moments when you just want to be left alone to your thoughts.

I open the driver's seat and unlock the front passenger door for Ian. He enters immediately, strapping the belt to his body.

---