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I had brought it on myself.

I put myself in the situation.

I got myself tangled up with the kind of men who did things like that to women without a second thought.

I wasn't worthy of her concern, of her love for someone who was a practical stranger- just a face to say hi to at the mail table.

"It wasn't that," I said, pulling back, scrubbing the sleeves of Lazarus' shirt down my cheeks, sopping up the tears.

"Ugh," she growled, shaking her head. "This goddamn part of town. No good all around. Alright. You go on in and get yourself an icepack. That red in the eye is harmless, just a busted blood vessel. It will be gone in a couple days. The swelling will be helped with the ice. The bruising, well, makeup," she said with a shrug. "Actually, I have some stuff I got for my last job interview that covers up tattoos," she said, waving her forearm at me where a elegant, whimsical blue and purple mermaid snaked up the skin. "Some of the old folks don't care for ink," she explained. "I have a client in ten. But after I am done today, I will stop over and bring it to you so you don't have to answer a ton of questions tomorrow about it. Just say you dropped something heavy when reaching into a cabinet or something."

"Thanks Erica." My smile I hoped was sincere because even if I didn't deserve it, I appreciated her concern.

"Don't mention it. See you later today."

So, yeah, I was expecting her seeing as I was pretty sure I heard her voice in the hallway a couple minutes before.

Which was why I didn't check the peephole.

Even if I had, what would I have done if I saw Lazarus there? Not answered? That wasn't exactly an option. He wasn't exactly the kind of man to let a flimsy door stand in the way.

He wasn't supposed to even be back yet.

After the run-in with Mitchell, Chris, and Sunny and the conversation with Erica, I had pretty much decided my only real choice, if I didn't want to keep being a punching bag, if I didn't want to be forced back into being a deadbeat junkie, was to run.

I had enough time to pack the stuff I couldn't live without and what little money I had in the world and get out of town before the guys found out and before Lazarus could know I was gone.

I had a suitcase packed and two boxes half-filled with essentials.

But I had obviously fudged my timeline.

Because I opened the door and there he was.

I won't lie.

Just the sight of him- his dark hair, his perfect eyes, his strong and lean body, yeah, there was a spark of desire that got completely eclipsed by the soaring sensation inside my chest.

The silence though was deafening as he looked down at me, as his dark eyes drifted over my eye. I had known enough of male anger in my time to see it seeding and taking root and sprouting through his system. It was in the tightness to his jaw, the way his brows drew low, how his hands curled into fists so tight that the skin on them turned white.

It withered, though, almost as quickly as it bloomed, leaving nothing in the wake but sad eyes as his hand went to his pocket, told someone that he found me, and put his cell away.

"Sweetheart, what the fuck?"

His voice was hushed, airless almost. Received? Maybe.

He didn't give me a chance to answer the non-question though, because his arm raised and his fingers settled at the side of my neck, making a tremble work its way through my insides then outward. They moved back around the back of my neck where there was still an achy feel to the hair that was yanked, and applied the smallest amount of pressure, but enough to force me toward his chest.

I'd say I fought it, I stayed determined to my plan to not muddy up his life anymore than I already had.

But that would be a lie.

The second the good side of my face pressed into his soft shirt, warm from his skin, smelling of both his soap and the outdoors, I simply melted into him.

His hands settled oddly at the sides of my hips. As if sensing the unasked question, his voice was low as he said, "I don't know if you're hurt anywhere else.

My eyes slammed shut against another rush of tears.

So so good.

Unable to help it, my arms slid around his back and held him as tightly as I could. Taking his lead from me, his arms wrapped me up too, hard enough to make breathing all but impossible, but I didn't care as I struggled to regain at least a small amount of composure.

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