Page 130 of Well Played

Summer’s dirty blonde hair hangs loose, well past her shoulders, and frames her beautiful face. Wow. I’ve never seen it down before.

I wonder if she sees me, but I can’t see her eyes. Between her sunglasses and the fact that she’s looking at the ground, I have no idea what she notices or doesn’t notice. That’s strange. Summer always walks with her head held high, like she’s the princess and we’re all here to serve her needs.

A few feet away, and Summer is so completely focused on whatever is running through that beautiful head of hers, I’m not even a blip on her radar. She doesn’t lift her eyes or veer off to the side as she continues in my direction. I think she’ll dart away at the last second.

Maybe I should blink first. Turn around and head back to my car. She’s alive; I can go home now. My purpose for coming was to check up on her. I did. My job is done.

“Uhh, Sorry.” Summer groans as she crashes into me, still not looking up.

“Summer?” I pretend I’m surprised to see her. She still doesn’t show a spark of recognition. She realizes it’s me she walked into, doesn’t she?

Finally, Summer tilts her head up, but I can’t see her eyes through the extra dark tint of her sunglasses. She pulls them down low enough for me to notice the narrowing of her eyes. “Niko?”

“Yep.”

Her eyes return to their normal size—well, the left one does. The right eye stays small and narrowed. I have difficulty swallowing as I notice she’s not closing it on purpose; it’s swollen.

I scan her face. Her eye isn’t the only thing swollen; it’s the whole right side of her face. My jaw clenches, my hands ball into fists, and my muscles tighten. My whole world turns upside down.

“What happened?” I snap as anger surges through me.

She shakes her head and pulls her hair forward on the right side, hiding what she doesn’t want me to see. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Bullshit!“You don’t have to be afraid.” I try to soften my voice. It’s hard to sound calm when I can’t see straight. My blood pumps so hard little spots invade my field of vision. “Tell me who did this,” I reach up and stop short of touching her. “I’ll see to it that he never touches you again.”

“What are you, a mob boss?”

Of course, she’s looking to defend him. Isn’t that what women in abusive relationships do? Now it all makes sense. Her defensive posture and inability to maintain eye contact with me. This whole time, it wasn’t me. She’s afraid of him.

“This isn’t the time to push my buttons. Not when you’re hurt.” I want her to understand that I’m not a threat to her, only to the fucker that laid hands on her. “I can help. I promise. Let me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not!” She’s infuriating. I need to get her away from here so she feels safe enough to tell me what happened, but she’s still pushing me away. “You can tell me the truth. I won’t judge. I’m more than happy to run interference for you while you pack a bag. We can figure out where to go after that.”

She sighs. “You’re such a guy.” Punch to the nose. She's insulting me? Really?

“What does that mean?”

“No one hurt me. I’m going to the doctor. Something’s up with my eye. It’s been going on all week and getting worse every day.”

I brush her silky hair behind her right ear to get a better look. She winces. I hope it’s because she’s in pain and not because I touched her. That’s not the reaction I want, nor is it one I’m used to. I consider her words as I look for bruising; it’s non-existent.

“You really want to help me?” Ahh, the sound of pride being swallowed.

“Yes.” I nod. “Tell me what you need, and you’ve got it.” What kind of man would I be if I didn’t do what I could for her?

Her hand rises to her forehead but stops before she runs it through her hair, and once again, I see a wince.

“I’m going to urgent care. If you really want to help, drive me?”

“Of course. Come on.”

“You know what? Instead of urgent care, make it the ER.”

“Do you have an emergency bag?”

“Huh?”

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