Page 83 of Anger

“Bother her again and it’ll be me you’re dealing with. And it won’t end with threats of legal shit. I’ll bury you so deep the world will forget you ever existed.”

Granger doesn’t so much as blink. The arrogant son of a bitch is too stupid to be scared. “Have fun with her. Hope her pussy is worth the war you just started.”

I step back, hating to be the first to break our stare.

Turning, I follow Blue to a back room. It isn’t until we walk through the door that I see the first bruise.

Grasping her shoulder, I gently turn her to look at me, and that storm brews again at the sight of her neck, her cheek and her arm.

“He’s a dead man,” I growl as I study the bruises I know all too well.

A hand over her throat.

Knuckles across her cheek.

A blow to her arm that blossoms in a swollen red, the bruise so new, it hasn’t had time to become black and blue.

“I’ll take the deal,” she says, her voice meek. She tips her finger beneath my chin to guide my gaze back to hers.

I can’t shake the storm of emotions from my head, a steady thudding of my heartbeat making it difficult to notice anything else but what sounds like the distant warning of war drums.

“Did you hear me, Champ? I said I’ll take your deal.”

I can’t hear anything but the taunting voices and the laughter, her bruises so similar to mine.

Drawing her closer, I direct Blue to sit on a chair in the room. I drop to my knees beside her.

There’s only one thing I know to do.

The only kindness that was taught to me.

Taking Blue’s arm, I glance up at her face and hold her stare as I lean in to softly kiss the bruise.

She doesn’t tug away, her eyes scrutinizing my face instead.

“What happened to you?”

My jaw tics, the tension inside ripping my self-control to pieces.

He’s only a hallway’s distance from me. It would be so easy to—

“Damon? Please answer me.”

Our eyes meet again, and I refuse to answer.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?”

Where her question has been soft, almost submissive, mine comes out razor sharp. My voice didn’t shake like my body does, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

My attention lifts to the red handprint over her throat then I push my body up to kiss that injury away too.

It’s the only thing that can be done once the new scars have been added to the old.

Blue stills in her seat on what I assume must be a decision between letting me close or pushing me away.

I know her that much.

What would happen if I kissed you?

---