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“You wouldn’t understand.”
“No? Then mansplain it to me. I’m sure you’re used to doing that.”
“Pretty fuckin’ sure your brother explained the whole fuckin’ situation.”
She knew how the baby came to be, but she hadn’t been expecting to walk into the backlash from that situation today.
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Do stupid shit, win stupid prizes. ‘Nough said.”
“That about covers it.” She sighed and decided to assess him from the top and move downward.
She tipped his face up and gently turned it left and right, checking each bruise. He winced and cursed on a hiss when she poked and prodded his injuries. Nothing was broken in his face besides his nose and his lip. Both would heal on their own.
“Your nose has a simple break. Take pain killers and put ice on it for twenty minutes every hour or so to reduce the swelling. You’re lucky, it shouldn’t heal crooked and mess up your pretty face.” Or possibly formerly pretty face. She really had no idea what his face looked like now that he was older and it was a bit fucked up.
“Not worried about my face.”
“Maybe you should be.”
He almost snorted at that, but muttered a “fuck” at the pain, instead.
“Looks like the bleeding has already stopped. If it starts up again and won’t stop, go to the ER.”
“Yes, Nurse Ratched.”
She ignored his remark and leaned in closer to stare into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath stilled as his shuddered from between parted, partially swollen lips.
“What’re you doin’?” he whispered.
“Checking your pupils.” She straightened. Yep, just as she remembered. His eyes were blue. One just had a nice blood spot in it now. “They look normal. Are you dizzy? Have a headache?”
“Head’s poundin’.”
“Do you feel like you need to vomit?”
His Adam’s apple rolled up and down in slow motion. “Every fuckin’ day this week, but not ‘cause of the beatin’.”
Right, having a baby you knew nothing about just show up one day at your door probably felt like a kick in the gut.
“Can you see clearly? Or is your vision blurry?”
“Can see you just fine, Jem.”
Jem.
She ignored the goosebumps that swept along her skin at his low grumble. A man’s voice had never caused a physical reaction like this. Why was it happening now? With him?
She held her middle finger up in front of his face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I deserve that?”
She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know, do you?”
“Probably.”
She grinned. “Sit still.”
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
She leaned in again and ran both thumbs over his collarbones from the center of his neck to the outer points, checking for pain or anything out of place.
“Been gone a long time.”
Her fingers stilled, as did her heart. Did she imagine those whispered words? “What?”
“Didn’t say nothin’.”
She must be hearing things. She continued with her exam. “Any sharp pain where I just pressed?”
“No,” he breathed.
“Anything hurt besides your ribs?”
“Does the answer ‘everything’ fuckin’ count?”
She ran her fingers lightly down his left rib cage, noticing when he reacted to a couple tender spots. Did it again down his right side. When she got to the area already turning an ugly shade of purple, he hissed when she prodded him there.
After a few more gentle pushes, she straightened again. “Yep. Cracked. Bruised. But not broken, luckily. They’ll heal, like your nose. So will your split lip. You’ll have a couple shiners from your broken nose and plenty of bruises.” She took another step back and stared at his chest. This time for herself and not for his benefit. He had tattoos down both arms. A few tats on his chest. And she assumed his back bore the Fury’s colors.
“So, where is the reason for which you willingly got your ass kicked?”
“If you’re talkin’ Dyna’s mother, not sure.”
“Dyna?”
“My daughter.”
She didn’t think the baby had a name yet. Her brother must have been wrong. “Ah. No. I was asking about the baby. The reason I came home early.”
“Not sure of that, either.”
“No wonder you need help. You lost your baby already.”
“Didn’t fuckin’ lose her. She’s with the club sisters.”
“And none of them could help you out?” Or maybe they just didn’t want to. She remembered Stella from all those years ago, but didn’t know the rest of them.
“Not long term.” She wasn’t here long term, either. Hopefully, Judd made that fact known.
Not Judd, Judge. He’d made that clear in the phone call the other day. She could only call him Judge. She rolled her eyes now just like she had on the phone. At least Deacon hadn’t changed his name to something ridiculous.
Like Cage.
She helped him pull his blood-stained shirt back on as she talked. “Anyway, you’ll live. You just won’t enjoy living for the next few days, maybe even weeks, until you completely heal up.”
“Got a kid to take care of.”
