Page 36 of Unexpected

“I’m so sorry, Angel,” I whispered into her hair. I was torn between wanting to comfort the woman in my arms and hunting down the son of a bitch to make good on my threat from earlier. I wanted to kill him. Actually, I wanted to torture him and let him feel the pain he had inflicted on her a hundred times over before I ended him.

“We should call the cops.”

I didn’t think my statement was unwarranted, but the way Hazel looked at me—her face contorted in panic and terror—I began questioning what the right way was to handle the situation.

“We can’t,” she said just above a whisper. “I—I can’t, Luke, please don’t.” A few tears rolled down her cheeks, and I couldn’t stand to see her absolutely terrified.

“Okay, we can talk about it later,” I conceded.

She nodded and, after a moment, asked, “Is there still blood on my face?” She pulled back and looked up at me, large hazel eyes shiny with tears.

I smoothed down the sides of her hair and nodded. “Yeah, you’re going to have to wash it off. Is your nose okay?”

Her fingers ran over the bridge of her nose and along the outside. It was swollen, and I couldn’t tell if the blue under her eyes was from exhaustion or if they were already bruising. “Yeah. I don’t know if it’s broken.”

“I don’t believe it is. I think it’s just bruised.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I used to fight a lot. You figure out when something’s actually broken and needs attention or when you can hold off.” I shrugged.

The fact that he hit her at all, or even raised his voice to her, had my blood boiling, but knowing he hit her hard enough to cause bleeding and a bruised nose had me teetering on the edge of insanity.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

“Luke, you’ve already done enough. I don’t think Michael will be back tonight, and—”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight. If you want to stay at your house, I’m staying with you.”

She huffed but didn’t try to argue further. “It would make me feel a lot better if I knew you were safe,” I said, giving her a reason to not feel so bad about taking me up on my offer.

“Okay.” She placed both of her hands on my chest and gave me a soft smile before she scooted off the counter. She grimaced when her feet hit the cold tile but recovered quickly as her big shirt fell over her underwear. She tugged it down a little farther. “I probably need a change of clothes. And I should lock up the house…”

She peered over her shoulder and turned to the front door. She looked like she was going to take a step in that direction but hesitated as she bit her bottom lip. She scrubbed a hand through her hair and groaned in frustration.

“Could you come with me?” she asked, looking back at me with wide eyes. It was evident she was scared to go back by herself, and I couldn’t blame her, nor could I tell her no.

“Of course. I’m not letting you out of my sight, remember?” The relief on her face knowing I was going to be close, combined with the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, brought forth feelings I had forgotten I was capable of.

“Do you want a jacket or some, um… pants before we walk over there?” I asked once we got to the front door, and I found myself staring at her bare legs.

“I can make it next door. Let’s just hope that no one is out at almost four in the morning to see me run from your house back to mine half naked. Don’t need the neighborhood rumor mill getting a hold of that gold.” She rolled her eyes and tried to laugh as she opened the door.It only sounded sad.

That time she shivered when the cold breeze whipped around us, which I took as a sign that her earlier shock was subsiding. I couldn’t let her fight against the cold by herself—even if it was for a short walk—so I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into my side. She tensed when my hand landed on her shoulder but quickly relaxed into me.

We hurried to her house and once I shut and locked the front door, I could see and feel her anxiety begin to creep back in. She moved farther into the house, down the entryway, cautiously peeking around corners like she was waiting for him to jump out. She had one hand absentmindedly wrapped around her throat while the other hugged her stomach.

After such a long time, I’d mastered keeping a lid on my anger and violent thoughts, but knowing Hazel was terrified of her own home made it impossible not to want to right this wrong for her. My heart roared with a fierce protectiveness.

“Maybe I should clean up a little. Shit, did that frame break?” She stepped toward the frame, broken and discarded next to the table.

“Wait, don’t worry about it. You don’t have any shoes on.” She looked down at her feet in surprise, like she forgot they were bare. “Just go grab your stuff, and I’ll take care of this.”

For a long second, she stared at the broken frame and the photo in it: her family—including Michael—smiling at the camera. It looked like they were all crowded together, just barely in the frame to take the photo.

“Hazel?”

She glanced up at me and nodded. “Yes, thanks.”

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