Page 48 of Hero's Heart

But she’d died a few months later anyway. Callum hated that any of her last days had been spent in sorrow of any kind.

Get the fuck over it, Boy Scout.

He smiled, able to hear Amelia’s voice in his head, cussing like a sailor and all.

She would’ve been the first person to tell him now that he needed to get over it. What was done was done.

Amelia would have liked Sloane, he realized. She would’ve liked Sloane’s quiet strength and the way she didn’t complain, even when the weight of the world was clearly crushing her small shoulders.

It was a strange thought, imagining the two women side by side. Sloane was nothing like Amelia, but in some ways, she was exactly what Amelia would’ve wanted for him—a balm for his jagged edges.

Callum shifted, pulling Sloane closer without fully meaning to. The sheet slipped, revealing her legs, bare and shapely. He couldn’t look away. At best, all he could do was keep his thoughts from sending him straight to hell. His breath caught, his gaze wandering up from her calves, over her knees, to take in the curve of her legs?—

What the fuck?

Bruises. Mottled purple and yellow shadows very distinctly shaped like fingers marring the soft skin of her upper thighs. His chest tightened, fury sparking to life.

It was Nikola. It had to be. That son of a bitch.

As he gently rolled to his side, the oversized T-shirt she was wearing that they’d found in a drawer shifted, exposing more bruises along her collarbone and the upper curve of her breasts. Each mark was like a physical blow to Callum. He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep the surge of anger from waking her.

Nikola had done this. And yet, Sloane hadn’t complained, hadn’t said a word. She bore it in silence, just like everything else.

Her resilience struck him, but it also broke his heart. Women like Marissa, who cried for attention over imagined slights, couldn’t hold a candle to Sloane’s strength.

The bruises caught his attention again. How much more had been done to her that she hadn’t mentioned?

Shit. Had she been raped? Maybe he shouldn’t have worried so much about staying under the radar and taken her straight to a hospital.

Callum’s vision clouded, an edgy, twitchy feeling coming over him. He wanted to kill someone. First, Nikola Kozak, then everybody who’d ever known or supported him.

He wished like hell it was Nikola who’d lost half his face rather than Jakob. It still wouldn’t have been enough to make him pay, but it would’ve been a start.

Sloane stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and he tried his best to bury his rage. She blinked sleepily, her lips curving into a soft smile as she snuggled closer. For a brief moment, he let himself enjoy the way she molded against him. But then she stilled, sensing his tension.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“For what?” he asked, frowning. So help him, if she apologized for what Nikola had done to her…

“For asking so many questions last night,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “About Amelia. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.”

Guilt punched him square in the chest. He’d been a jerk last night, shutting her down instead of explaining. She hadn’t deserved that. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“You weren’t nosy,” he said softly. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing. Sometimes it’s just…hard to talk about her.”

Her expression softened, relief flickering in her eyes. But then her gaze sharpened, and she tilted her head as she studied him. “Are you mad about something else?”

He took a breath. He didn’t want to ask her the questions he was about to, but he needed to know. Both for personal and professional reasons.

Callum hesitated, weighing his words. Trying to figure out some way around this.

But there was no way around it.

“Sloane,” he said carefully, “I need to ask… While you were with Nikola, did he—” He swallowed hard. “Did he rape you?”

Her eyes widened in shock, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “No,” she said quickly, sitting up, clutching the oversized T-shirt. “No. He didn’t. I swear.”

He had to be sure. He grabbed her hands. “Angel, if you were assaulted in that way, it would not be your fault. You wouldhave absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. But we would probably want to get you to a hospital. If not here, then…”

---