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Out of nowhere, Bennett comes swooping in, fist flying, and hits the guy straight in the face, knocking him to the ground in a heap of man muscle.
I blink at Cayden’s slackened form and then up at Bennett, who is shaking out his fist and cursing. “Why in the hell did you do that?”
Chapter Nineteen
All I see is red. Fucking red everywhere. “That’s Cayden,” I snap at Katy, and just what the fuck is he doing here? And how did he find her?
She stares at me as if I just lost my mind. “I know. I just met him.” She tilts her head as realization creeps across her features. “Wait. How do you know him?”
I grab her with my good hand—since the one I hit him with burns like a bastard, though that hit was totally worth the pain—around her waist and growl, “He’s my ex-best friend.”
“The one who was fucking your ex?”
I nod.
Her face drops. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Only that’s not why I hit the motherfucker. He was talking to Katy with a familiarity I didn’t appreciate. More than that, he was touching her, and for that alone, I had to hit him. He shows up here out of the blue and now he’s touching Katy?! My Katy? No. Absolutely not. Not her. Not ever.
“Help me move him,” Katy demands, bending over and grabbing Cayden by the arm. He groans, his body shifting and his eyes slowly blinking open. “Now, Bennett. You just punched a man out on your floor, and if anyone sees this, deserving or not, you could get fired.”
I make an aggravated noise in the back of my throat because I’d just allow Cayden to lie here bleeding like a pussy, but I grab his other arm and help her drag him toward the empty patient room across the way.
“Put him on the bed. I need to examine him.”
“Forget that?—”
“Now,” she demands, giving me a look that says don’t argue.
I lop the dead weight of his body on the bed, but when she moves to help him, I yank her hand away from him because as much as I don’t want his hands anywhere near her, I don’t want her hands anywhere on him.
“You”—she points toward the recliner in the corner of the room—“sit there and do not speak or move. You need ice for your hand.”
“Katy—”
“I said do not speak or move. Who punches someone, Bennett? You’re a freaking surgeon and an adult. If you broke your hand or can’t operate, how will you explain that? I’ll be back.”
I grunt and sit in the chair as Katy leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. Cayden groans again, and I roll my eyes. “You deserved that. You deserve worse than that, actually. I should have broken your fucking nose.” No one else touches my girl, and certainly not you, you piece of shit.
“Again you mean.”
I roll my eyes a second time and lean back, flexing and clenching my fist to test it. It’s not great but not terrible, and I doubt anything is broken. “I didn’t break your nose that time.”
“Yes, you did. When you tackled me during touch football.”
“You’re a dick. What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, buddy.”
I scoff and toss my ankle up on my knee. “Buddy? What are we? Six? I’m not your fucking buddy.”
“You knocked me down in front of my new girlfriend.”
In a flash, I shoot to my feet and start to charge when the door opens, and Katy comes in carrying two pink hospital pitchers filled with ice along with two towels. “Sit down, Bennett.” She puts the pitchers on the tray by the foot of the bed and goes about making me an ice pack. “Put this on your hand and do not argue with me.” She starts to grumble to herself. “Honestly. A freaking surgeon punching someone. Who does that?”
I take the ice pack from her hand and put it on my fist.
