Page 137 of Shattered Pieces

“Don’t talk. Type notes on your phone and show me,” he suggested, taking another look at my throat as he waited for me to type out that I wanted to see his doctor and not start a war.

That made him snort when he read it, but he took the ice from my hands and gently held it against my throat so my hands were free.

“I can get someone to look at it for you, but they’ll just tell you to ice it and take ibuprofen like any doctor would. That’s going to bruise like hell, babe,” he tsked. “What’s with the dust? You’re covered in it.” I typed out that it was from Skeeter shooting the wall above my head, and he seemed to take a deep breath before replying. “We’ll deal with it later. Do you want to hang out in the office for the day? You can go to my place, if you want.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Marco growled, irritated to be left out of the conversation.

“Skeet strangled her and took shots at her,” Hunter answered, letting me take over holding the ice packs again. His fingers brushed through my hair to remove some of the dust, and my stupid eyes watered.

“Take her to yours,” Faris suggested, leaning back against the bar beside me. “We’ve got everything under control here. You don’t have anything major to do today anyway.”

Preston didn’t seem happy about that idea, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I’ll be fine,” I forced out, but Hunter scowled.

“You’re not. Mark can handle things here and you can come to mine. No idea how you’re going to hide that from Josie later though.”

“Me either.”

“Stop talking,” he reminded me, stroking my hair for a second before turning to Marco. “Handle the trade this afternoon then meet me at my place.”

“Or you let me go after—” he started, but Hunter cut him off.

“Don’t do anything. Let her handle it,” he warned, motioning to me. As much as they pissed me off, I’d always liked how Hunter didn’t make decisions for me. Marco fumed but nodded, and Hunter took his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got the bike, so⁠—”

“I can drive. I’ll follow you,” I said as best as I could. It was obvious he didn’t like that idea, but he agreed and followed me outside once Faris had taken the ice packs off me.

It was a short drive, but I was starting to feel exhausted by the time I sat on Hunter’s couch, my limbs feeling heavy as I watched Hunter get me a bottle of water and a blanket.

“I’m not sick,” I joked, but he rolled his eyes and handed me the water.

“I know. Water will help cool your throat, and it’s cold in here.” He draped the blanket over my shoulders before sitting beside me, leaning back to study me for a second. “Should I let someone know you’re here?”

I scrunched my nose, knowing that could end up with visitors, but I knew he was right.

“I’ll text Ty and D,” I mumbled, pulling my phone out to text them both, letting them know I was with Hunter and I’d see them later.

Hopefully, they stayed away long enough for me to figure out how to tell them that Skeeter had tried to kill me twice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SKEETER

It was hard to hold it together until Rory left the house, my heartbeat pounding in my chest. I couldn’t kill her, the thought had made me sick, so when I’d taken that shot at her head on reflex for her suggesting she could go and fuck Hunter, I almost threw up.

What if she hadn’t ducked? That shot would have killed her, and I found myself slamming the door to keep her the fuck away from me.

My breathing was loud in the silent house, nausea swimming inside me. I hadn’t expected her to show up here, so I wasn’t ready for the emotions that hit me when she’d walked up to the door.

All the anger turned into pain, my stupid heart relieved to see her despite what she’d done to me. Did she actually take a look and see what she’d done? I was losing my damn mind because of her.

“Fuck!” I shouted once I heard the car drive off, dropping onto the couch and tossing my gun on the coffee table to bury my face in my hands. I’d wanted her dead until she was in front of me, then it all hit me at once.

How could I still love her so much?

Letting her go wasn’t going to be as easy as I first thought, not when my whole body relaxed on the inside at seeing her in front of me. I wanted to ask about prison, to look at her scars with my own damn eyes and run my tongue across them, but I had to be strong.

I should have known waving a gun at her wouldn’t scare her off.