Page 56 of Inflame Me
Tanner’s body tightens in my arms, and I squeeze harder.
“By hurting each other?” She shakes her head.
Dagger’s hand comes to Tanner’s face, and she stops moving as he looks down at her. “I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay, but everything is fine.” Dagger looks up at me, lifting his chin. “Thanks, brother, I needed that.”
I just lift my chin in recognition.
“I don’t understand you at all,” Tanner says, putting her weight into me, and I take it.
I lean down to her ear. “Sprite, everything is fine.”
Her head turns to mine and she gasps. “Oh, God, you’re bleeding.” She tries to scramble out of my arms, but I don’t allow her to move.
“It’s all good.”
“But …” she sputters. Then I can feel her back straighten. “Come inside so I can clean you up.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the building. I allow it because she needs to have the break, and I truly need to get cleaned up before we head back to the clubhouse. If the cops stop me looking like this, I’ll be pulled in for questions.
X is still pumping, the dancers on stage doing their thing. For as tiny as Tanner is, she sure makes a quick path, taking me back to the dressing room. I lift my chin at Doug the guard at the curtain who says nothing as we pass.
“Oh, my God, Rhys!” One of the brunette dancers rushes up to me, placing her hand on my arm. Tanner says nothing, but the tick in her cheek tells me all I need to know. I brush the bitch off and move to the bathroom. Tanner follows and looks under the stalls while I lock the door. She says nothing of the confrontation, but I can tell she wants to.
“Yeah, I fucked her. I’ve fucked most of the women here. They’re easy.” I have no issues with my past. Why should I? I am who I am.
“Whatever. Sit.” She points to the counter, and I quirk my brow. It’s cute how she thinks she’s going to tell me what to do, but I appease her and sit. Fuck, this woman has me in knots.
She grabs paper towels, wetting them, and then begins to swipe the blood from my face. I watch her intently, noting each movement as she works wordlessly.
The redness on her cheek is beginning to bruise. It’ll be nasty in the morning, but I’ve unfortunately seen her with worse.
Her brows narrow as she takes in each cut and scar on my face and neck. My tattoos hide most of the scars, but when someone is up close, they aren’t hard to miss. Each one of those scars made me the man I am today and don’t bother me in the least.
“Wash your hands,” she orders, stepping back from me and throwing the wad of towels into the trash.
I hop off the sink and wash them. They burn, but no matter. I blot them off with the paper towel she’s holding, and I can tell the gears in her head are moving so fast I swear smoke will come out of her ears at any moment.
“I get it,” she says quietly.
I toss the towel away then lean my hip on the sink, giving her time to sort whatever is in her head out.
“He was pissed. Judging from the guys lying on the ground, it didn’t help him, so you did.” Her emerald eyes meet mine, shining. “You helped him.” I shrug. “Don’t do that,” she orders and steps into my space. I uncross my arms and put my hands on her luscious hips. “You fought with him to let him get it out. It’s strange, but I get it.”
I pull her into my arms, her face resting in my neck, her arms around my waist. I’m learning fast that this is one of my favorite positions for her.
“It’s good, Sprite. He needed to get it out.”
“And you just let him …” Her voice trails off with a slight tremble. I squeeze her tightly and feel the wetness from her tears hit my shirt. Fuck me.
“Sprite, it’s okay.”
She shakes her head, her hair rustling back and forth as I glide my hand up and down her back. Crying women is really not my thing, but with Tanner, my body just knows what to do.
I let her have her time, getting out everything that happened throughout the night. Once her body is boneless against mine and I’m holding all of her weight, I pull away and look into her red-rimmed eyes. She sniffles.
“Sprite, let’s get back.”
She nods.
My body needs to rest. I’m not as young as I used to be. I can take anything handed out to me, but I would be a fucking liar if I said my body didn’t ache from the blows.
