Page 40 of A Breath of Life
“Your nose is broken.”
“I know. I’m fine. It… was nothing.” He tried to dislodge from my hold, but I refused to let go, keeping him in place.
“You’re not fine. This isn’t nothing, D. What the fuck happened?”
“I…” He fumbled, not completing the sentence. Again, he tried to move my hands from his face.
Reluctantly, I released him.
He stepped away and scanned the apartment, an angry stitch appearing between his brows. Tonguing the cut in his lip, he shook his head. “I need a minute.”
“Diem, answer me.”
His scowl deepened as he stared at the balcony window. “I… got jumped, okay. I’m fine. Let it go. I need a shower and a few painkillers, then I’m going to lie down for a bit.”
“You got jumped? Who? Where? What happened?” I knew I shouldn’t push. He told me to back down, but come on. Someone had messed him up.
Disregarding me once again, he moved to the balcony door and skimmed the street below. Jaw tensing, he thumbed the lock and tugged on the handle a few times as though to ensure it was secure.
“Diem?”
He drew the curtains, pulling the seam flush before turning to face me. Without sunlight streaming through the window, shadows filled the room and fell across his face. It amplified the bruising, making it more menacing.
Even in the low light, I didn’t miss the brewing storm building behind his eyes. “You are not to go anywhere without me.”
“What?”
More sharply, he repeated, “You don’t leave this apartment without me, understand?”
I balked. “No, I don’t understand. What’s going on? Is someone after you?”
He clenched his fists, loosened them, then clenched them again. Even with dense scruff covering his neck, his bobbing Adam’s apple stood out as he thickly swallowed. “Please listen for once. I’m not feeling well, and I really need to lie down.”
I gaped as he stumbled past me and aimed for the bathroom.
“What the fuck? Diem, stop. You can’t vanish for, like, seventeen fucking hours or whatever it was, show up beaten to a pulp, then demand I stay inside without telling me what the hell happened.”
This was a prime example of communication breakdown, a stumbling block between us since the beginning.
Diem paused at the bathroom door and leaned heavily on the frame, pressing his forehead against the wood as he closed his eyes. A nerve in his jaw ticked as he gritted his teeth. I was pissing him off again, but I couldn’t help it. Why was he being so cagey?
I approached cautiously and touched his lower back, doing all I could to tone down the sass. “D? Talk to me.”
On a strangled exhale, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. An odd mixture of fury and sheer devastation filled his storm-colored eyes. “Not right now, okay? I can’t. I had a rough night.”
“You’re freaking me out.”
Diem closed his eyes again, and I could see him battling for control. When he reopened them, the fury was buried, not gone but shoved away where he didn’t think I could see it.
With a trembling hand, he reached out and feathered the backs of his fingers over my cheek. The delicacy of the touch made my heart stutter. “I love you, Tallus. Don’t be angry. I hate making you angry all the time.”
“I’m not… D, I’m…” I didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t my Diem.
“I’d kiss you,” he continued, tonguing his lip again, “but I still taste blood, and—”
I rose to my toes and kissed him anyway, softly, so as not to aggravate the injury. When I pulled away, he ran a thumb over my lower lip, wiping away the saliva. “You shouldn’t do that. What if… We haven’t talked about… that stuff.”
“I don’t care, Diem.”
