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His hand landed on the tender spot on my upper arm that I’d been trying to forget about, and the stab of pain that lanced through me wasn’t something I could hide.
Daire dropped his hold immediately, looking down at where I’d covered myself with an oversized sweater. His jaw visibly clenched, and I felt my pulse begin to race as I tried to come up with a good excuse, one he wouldn’t question.
When he opened his mouth again, his words were practically a growl. “Tell me.”
“Daire, it’s—” I tugged at the cuff of my sweater to make sure it was in place.
There was no way he could see what was under it. No way he could see evidence of any crime. But Daire’s scowl only becamemore murderous, and it was clear he didn’t need evidence—he already knew what had gone down.
“What did he do to you?”
“I don’t know what you’re?—”
“Gavin.” Daire took a step forward, and my words got stuck somewhere in the back of my throat. “What did Joey do to you?”
My pulse pounded as I stared up into Daire’s determined face. There was no way he was going to let this go until he got the answer he wanted, and I didn’t want any part in whatever kind of vengeance I could see swirling in his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter.” I carefully picked up my laptop.
“The fuck it doesn’t. He put his hands on you. I wanna know why.”
“And I don’t want to tell you,” I snapped back, straightening to my full height. “If I wanted that I would’ve come and found you. Just leave it, Daire. We broke up. It’s over. The last thing I want or need is you tracking him down and making everything worse.”
I went to step around him and leave, but Daire held up a hand. “Wait.”
“I really don’t?—”
“Please?”
That one word had my feet freezing in place. I couldn’t remembereverhearing Daire say please or thank you to anyone.
His eyes were on my sweater, as though he’d be able to somehow see through it if he stared long enough.
“Talk to me.” He gestured to the couch and moved over to it.
My first instinct was to say no and head back to my place. No good could come from telling Daire, or anyone, about what had happened with Joey.
One of our group’s unspoken rules was: fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. Revenge was something we all thrived on. But usually it was in response to gossip or blackmail. How wouldthat revenge look against someone getting physical with one of us? I had no idea, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I worried my lower lip with my teeth, trying to decide what the smart move was here. Did I want to talk to someone about this? Yes. But could I trust Daire to keep it just between us? Iwantedto say yes. It wasn’t as though he was tight with any of the other guys. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hunt down Joey and?—
“Gavin.”
“Okay.” I walked back to the couch and gingerly took the seat beside him. “But if I tell you, you have to promise to keep it here. You can’t tell the rest of the guys. Not even Van.” He said nothing. “Daire.”
“Okay, whatever, I won’t tell them. Now what the fuck happened?”
He lounged back in the corner of the couch with a booted foot propped up on his knee, and to an undiscerning eye he looked cool, calm, relaxed. But when I saw his clenched fist resting on the arm of the seat, I shook my head.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want Joey’s death on my conscience, that’s why not.” I went to stand again, but a hand on my leg stilled me.
That was the second time tonight that Daire had touched me, and probably the fourth time in all the years we’d known each other. But the warm fingers resting lightly on my leg were enough to make me pause.
“I won’t kill Joey.”
