Page 96 of Her Greatest Mistake

BRAXTON

Cooper is kneelingabove me when I wake up from another unexpected nap, this time with my back against what feels like a brick wall. My eyelids are heavy as I blink, trying to bring his face into focus. There’s something wet on my ear, and my head hurts, a pulse thumping away inside of my skull. A burning in my hands has me lifting them in the air. Scraped skin and blood.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Braxton. I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance. How long have you been asleep? You’re bleeding,” he rushes out, frantic hands moving over me, eyes examining me.

I drop my head to his chest, exhaustion trying to pull me under again. “Let me go back to bed,” I slur.

A growl hits my hair before a set of arms is digging beneath my armpits and lifting me onto my feet. I frown, shaking my head.

“We’re going to the hospital. You definitely have a concussion.”

“No. My car. Did you see anyone when you got here?”

I manage to tie my words together, trying to dig my heels into the ground as he leads us to the SUV parked beside my car.

“No. And now I know you didn’t fall on your own. You need to file a police report as soon as you’re done at the hospital.”

“I don’t want to think about that right now.” I reach toward my ear and swipe away the warm liquid there. When I see the red on my fingertips, I gulp. “Iambleeding.”

Cooper maneuvers us so he can pull open the passenger door and help me inside. Once I’m sitting, he goes to the back of the vehicle and comes back a second later with a first aid kit.

“Let me check your head. I don’t like the look of you bleeding,” he states gruffly.

Knowing better than to refuse, I nod. “I’m going to miss the game tonight.”

“Yeah. You are.”

His touch is gentle on the side of my head, but I still flinch. Cooper doesn’t pay it any attention; he just continues to wipe away the blood on the side of my face and then starts to push through my curls in search of the wound.

“I tried to call him, but he didn’t answer, and now he’s going to think I bailed on him,” I whisper.

“No, he’s not. Now, hold this rag here, and let me clean your hands.”

I hold the first one out to him, grabbing the rag and applying the same pressure he was on my head, trying not to wince at the first dab of the peroxide-soaked wipe.

“We need to call the police about your car, at least. You need to get your window replaced as soon as possible. Did you have anything valuable that someone could have wanted to steal?”

Anger flares in his eyes each time I flinch or hiss out a breath. When he cleans the deepest cut, I release a whimper, and he grinds his jaw so hard I worry he’ll break his teeth.

“No. I don’t know why anybody would want to break into it in the first place. It’s old. Half the time, it doesn’t even start.”

“Switch hands,” he mutters, waiting for me to grab the rag in the newly cleaned hand and give him the bloody one. “I don’t think they cared about the car. It doesn’t make sense. You’re not wrong about it being unreliable.”

“Hey, I’m the only one that gets to insult her.”

He rolls his eyes. “Does this place have security cameras?”

“Yes. One that faces the parking lot and another at the back entrance.”

I only had them installed last week, and now I’m grateful that I did, despite the extra cost. Maybe we caught the guy.

“Alright, good. When we’re done at the hospital, you’re going to report the break-in and hand over the security tapes.”

I sigh, feeling the full weight of my exhaustion. “I’ll do it tomorrow. Not tonight. I’m tired.”

Cooper blows out a long breath. “Okay, love. You just scared me. I’ve never heard you like that before. And then when you stopped answering . . .”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, twisting my mouth.

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