Page 26 of Eight Years Gone

She shook her head more adamantly. “Eventually, you’ll be gone.”

He opened his mouth to respond as they both looked toward the door when the guy Grace had made a date with walked in.

She glanced at Jagger, then smiled as she walked the man’s way. “Hi.”

The guy smiled back. “Hi, yourself.”

Jagger turned to leave. He wanted to be anywhere but there, but he stopped when he spotted the patch of nasty marks marring Grace’s skin as the shawl slid off her right shoulder.

“What’s that?” he demanded, quickly closing the distance between them. “What the fuck is this?” He yanked the cloth to the floor, tracking his gaze down the angry purple and red bruising that disappeared beneath Grace’s shirt.

Alarm filled her eyes. “Jagger—”

Rage consumed his heart as he looked at the man gaping at him. “Did you do this?”

“Yes—”

That was all the guy could say before Jagger grabbed him by the throat and walked him backward, slamming him into the wall where several vases fell off the shelves to shatter on polished hardwood. “You son of a bitch—”

“Jagger, stop it!” Grace pulled on his arm. “Ben didn’t hurt me! It’s from the gua sha!”

He slightly loosened his grip as he held Ben’s shocked stare. “What the hell’s gua sha?”

Ben swallowed. “Uh, it’s a technique for releasing muscle tension.” His Adam’s apple bobbed again. “The tool I use can break small capillaries under the skin. It’s a common side effect. I gave Grace a treatment last night on our date.”

Jagger stepped back, letting Ben go.

Grace hurried between him and Ben, gripping Ben’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Ben nodded as he took a step away from Grace to smooth his button-down. “I’m fine.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Jagger didn’t share the same apologetic sentiments as he headed for the back. He imagined Ben wouldn’t forget anytime soon that he better treat Grace right.

“Why don’t we talk later?” Ben said as Jagger went on the hunt for a broom in the small storage closet.

Moments later, he knew Grace stood behind him as he closed the door. He turned to face her, watching her clutching her arms in a white-knuckle grip as she crossed them. Some of the color had left her face, and her fantastic blue eyes were huge.

He’d frightened her. It had been a long time since he’d lost his cool like that. He was too well trained as a martial artist and as a United States military killing machine to go off half-cocked. But this was Grace.

“Jagger…” Her hand moved to her forehead. “That was… I don’t… You can’t do stuff like that.”

“It looks like he beat the hell out of you.”

“I know.” Her voice gentled as she adjusted the shawl on her shoulders again. “But Ben would never hurt me. He’s a chiropractor. He does gua sha treatments for many of his patients.”

He didn’t give two shits about who Ben was or what he did. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

She took the broom. “I’ll clean up. You should go.”

“Grace—”

She shook her head. “Please just go.”

He nodded, wanting to pull her against him—to hold her close and apologize for scaring her. But he grabbed his wallet and the keys he’d left on one of the shelves, pulling a couple hundred dollars free. “Let me know if this doesn’t cover the damages.”

She didn’t move to take it.

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