Page 402 of Rock Me All Night
"Home. Please don't hit anyone."
Surprise spreads over his face. "You sure? Guy needs to learn his fucking lesson, or he'll do it again."
I shake my head. "I don't want something to happen to you."
"I can knock that guy unconscious before he gets one punch in."
"But if someone calls the police..." I stare back into his eyes. "You could get arrested. Convicted. That will fuck up your life. Your tour. Your reputation."
"I don't care about that."
His voice is earnest. He really wants to kick the guy's ass. But for me or for some macho need to prove himself?
His breath is warm against my neck. His fingertips are soft against my chin.
My legs shake. I wrap my arms around him for balance but it isn't necessary. He keeps me pinned to the wall.
Anyone else, I'd be terrified. But with Tom, I know he'll take care of me. I know he'll protect me.
Tom's expression softens. He slides his hand to my waist. "Come on, kid. I'm a lot more concerned with getting you home than with teaching that little asshole a lesson."
"Matthew can do it for you," I offer.
"Yeah." He holds my body against his. "But only if you want him to."
"No violence on my account."
He nods. "You okay to walk?"
"Yeah." Still shaking but my legs are finally ready to cooperate.
Tom leads me to the street. He hails a cab, helps me into the backseat, and gives our address to the driver.
He pulls the safety belt over my waist. "You're doing a bang up job helping with my bad boy rep."
"Thank goodness."
"You really commit to your work."
"I try."
"Anyone can try. You accomplish shit."
My laugh eases some of the tension in my back.
Tom slides his hand under my chin. He nudges me gently.
I look up at him. His green eyes are filled with concern. The intensity of it takes my breath away.
Inhale. Exhale. There. I've got it, more or less.
Tom leans closer. "Your ex, he hit you?"
I don't have it in me to deny it. No. That's not it. I want to share this part of myself with Tom. "Not at first. At first, he was sweet with a bad temper. He'd blow up over the littlest things, but he wasn't violent." I swallow hard. "Then one day... he was. We'd been together about six months when he slapped me. We had been fighting. I'd said awful things. I thought it was my fault."
Tom wraps his arm around me.
"He apologized. I told myself he meant it. The next time it was worse. But his apology was sweeter. Flowers, chocolates, crying until I told him I forgave him. I really thought that he loved me, that he just got a little carried away sometimes. Even when it was so bad I was showing up to swim practice bruised enough the coach called my parents."
