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“He’s got Yamin. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to kill him.”
With one last kick to my ribs, Tommy pulled his daughter and they disappeared out the door as Freya started screaming at him.
The black around my vision worsened as the familiar deep thread of agony started in my head, but I had to go. I had to make sure she was ok.
“Holy shit,” Yamin ground out, trying to help me up, but I shook him off while I stumbled for the door, hip throbbing and eyes blurred with pain and blood.
“Tom!” I called from the doorway, hands clinging to the frame for dear life. “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”
“I’d never hurt my kid,” he hissed back, shoving Freya in the car. “She’s in deep shit, but I’d never hurt her. I thought you knew me better than that. Evidently we both knew shit.”
The tires squealed as his fancy little car drove away, Freya in the seat seemed torn between removing her father to save me the beating, and wanting to nurse me better herself.
“You’re one deranged son of a bitch,” Yamin finally said, watching me wilt against the doorframe now that they were out of eyeline.
I pushed myself back from the frame and stumbled to the couch, knowing that I was going to pay dearly for all the bloodstains I was leaving behind on the carpet and furniture.
“Fucking hell,” Yamin murmured, coming over to help get my legs up on the couch as the pain in my head started to take over.
“Pill. Nightstand,” I managed out, and he was gone, shooting off to get it.
He came back and shoved the pill in my mouth, then held up a glass of water, pressing it to my lips. Not that I needed it. I’d gotten pretty good at swallowing my migraine pills raw.
“I’m going to stay the night,” he told me, his voice sounding kind of wobbly. Guess the pain did weird things to my perception. “When you get up, I want to hear it all. Until then, sleep. I’ll make sure you don’t die.”
I gave a tiny, excruciating nod as unconsciousness dragged me down. One sheep… Two sheep… Three sheep…
Chapter 20
Ashton
When my tired eyes cracked open with the first beans of sunrise, I stared around the room wondering where the fuck I was. With each blink, I started to remember everything that happened since the last time I’d slept. It was like I’d lived an entire lifetime in the last twenty-four hours.
Freya, soft, hot, needy and delicious.
Tommy, pain, agony, devastation.
“Good morning, princess,” Yamin’s voice broke through my mental recap and made me turn my eyes to him, in my kitchen, making coffee.
It smelled a little burnt, but I’d kill for a cup.
“Gimme,” I told him, throat so dry my voice came out raspy.
He moved over with another cup already poured, a dash of cream in it, because evidently I was getting treated like royalty.
“Don’t get used to it,” Yamin said, and I didn’t even have to say anything. “I only feel bad for you because it looked like you got in a fight with a raccoon and lost. It’s sad.”
Taking the hot cup in one hand, I lifted my other and prodded at my sore eye sockets and the crusty scabs covering my nose, lips, and brows.
“You know I don’t have much love for Tommy and his machine gun temper, but dude, you could’ve laid that retired asshole out in one punch.”
“He needed it,” I assured him, waving my hand to dismiss it. “Had to make him feel big.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Especially after you fucked his kid.”
I shrugged.
“Alright, you’ve had sleep and there's coffee in your mitt. Get to it. What the actual fuck happened yesterday?”
