Uncomfortable.
The thought is terrifying. I know what it’s like to feel uncomfortable in my own home, and I don’t want to make Tobias feel like that.
I look down at the food, guts churning. I think I screwed up. Will he be unhappy with the way I’ve taken over his kitchen—and his closet?
As Tobias walks in, the knife I’ve got gripped in my hand slips, dropping toward the floor.
And my bare toes.
It connects, and I make a weird gasping, yelping noise.
I can’t even get a good look at what damage has been done before my whole body is in the air, lifting off the ground. Just like in my office, Tobias hefts me easily, dropping my ass onto the counter this time. One strong hand lifts my foot toward his face for inspection, expression pinched in what looks like anger.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Familiar words pour through my lips in an attempt at damage control. My latest effort to smooth over my misdeeds before?—
Tobias’s touch is gentle as his thumb skims across thebruise blooming over my big toe. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot before straightening to his full height. He looms over me, dark eyes studying my face.
His jaw flexes, then he takes a deep breath, eyes closing as he blows it back out. His demeanor seems calmer when his lids lift, and I relax a little.
But all that relaxation is gone when he says, “I think I’m gonna need you to tell me what he did to you.”
17
Tobias
We can’t keep going like this.
Ican’t keep going like this.
I’ve been dreading finding out what brought Brooke back to me, but the not knowing is becoming worse. It’s giving me room to imagine all the things Matt might have done to the beautiful woman staring up at me with fear-filled eyes.
It’s her fear that’s becoming too much to bear. The way she jumps at every loud sound. Cowers if my voice raises the smallest bit. Panics any time she thinks I’m going to be unhappy.
Like tonight.
After giving her toe another look to make sure there’s not a cut I missed, I return my attention to where Brooke sits on the counter in front of me. The added height puts us almost eye-to-eye, which forces me to see all the emotions flashing through hers.
It cuts through me that she’s afraid. That she’s suffering. It knocks me down a peg. Levels the belief I had that I could fix it all for her.
Brooke shakes her head, the movement jerky. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She does, but I’m not calling her out. Not when I’m asking her to do something she very clearly doesn’t want to do. “I want to know what that prick did that made you leave like you did.” I lean closer, needing to breathe in the scent of her skin. “Tell me how he hurt you.”
Because I know that’s what happened. He put his hands on her. I feel it in my bones.
And it has me planning all the ways I can break each of his. One by one.
My thoughts are filled with violence, but my hands are careful as they reach for her, smoothing up her arms before cradling her face. “Please.”
I must be some sort of sadist to be begging for information I know is going to cause me extreme and lasting pain. But If I can’t fix this, the very least I can do is make sure she doesn’t have to deal with it alone.
Brooke’s chin quivers, the edges of her eyes shimmering in the kitchen lighting. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Fuck. I thought hearing about some asshole hurting her was going to be the worst part of this conversation, but that was very shortsighted of me. Learning what happened isn’t going to be nearly as painful as discovering all the ways it broke her.
“There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.” I shake my head. “Not with me.”
Brooke’s lips curve in a hint of a smile, surprising me. “You’re just saying that because you ruined a pair of pants today, aren’t you?”
