Page 16 of Lonely Heart

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Fuck. What happened? Who did this?”

He was in agony, doing his best to control his emotions. A tear rolled down my cheek. “I don’t know. I don’t know who he was. It was terrifying. I came back here, and I knew this room was empty. I was barely inside the door when Marco showed upto fix the dryer. Marco helped me, Cooper. He took care of me last night. That’s it. That’s all. You owe him an apology.”

My brother put his hands on my shoulders and took a step back to give himself the ability to assess me fully. “Did you go to the hospital? Did you call the police?”

“I was going to take her to the station this morning,” Marco informed him. “She insisted she was fine and didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

Cooper barely acknowledged Marco, his focus still on me. “Why didn’t you call one of us? Why were you hiding in here?”

“Because I had Marco, and you should know better than anyone else that he’s just as good as having you or Wyatt or Tate or Liam. You need to apologize to him.”

My brother nodded but said nothing to confirm I was correct. “Do you have clothes here?”

“I have my jeans, but my shirt was torn.”

He winced. “Go get your jeans on. I’m going to take you to the police station.”

“Cooper—”

“Ivy, please,” he said, his tone indicating he wasn’t interested in any argument from me.

I sighed and walked away.

What happened after I left the living room, I didn’t know, but the tension in the room was still just as thick when I returned with my jeans and shoes on. Cooper had picked up my jacket and held it out to me. “Here.” Once it was on, he jerked his head to the door. “Come on.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you apologize to Marco. He’s your best friend, Cooper. And you owe him an apology.”

“Ivy, it’s okay,” Marco cut in.

I shook my head. “It’s not. And I will not leave this room until he gives you the apology you deserve.”

My attention went back to my brother, and I shot him an expectant look.

He looked away, brought his attention to Marco, and said, “I’m sorry for jumping the gun.”

Marco shook his head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you ready?” Cooper asked, his focus back on me.

I glanced up at Marco and sent an appreciative smile his way. “Thank you for everything you did for me.”

He returned a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

“See you later, Marco. I’ll get your shirt back to you as soon as?—”

“Don’t worry about the shirt. Just take care of yourself.”

I gave him a nod. Then I looked at Cooper and said, “Let’s go.”

My brother moved to the door, and as he opened it, I glanced back at Marco. He was wearing a smile, but he looked utterly devastated. Like he believed he’d just lost his best friend because of me.

And when the tears fell as Cooper drove me to the police station, I wasn’t sure if I was crying for myself or for the man who’d given me what I didn’t even know I needed last night.

5

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