Page 63 of His Good Girl

She draws a shuddering breath and looks at me. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not, Marcee. I knew you didn’t really mean it, and there was no reason for him to hear it.”

“Well, someone better tell me something right now,” Finn barks looking ready to blow.

“Dad, uh, at Thanksgiving, I…”

Cutting her off, I tug at Finn’s hand. “Look at me, Finn.” Slowly, his eyes leave his daughter and focus on me. “The details of what was said are not important. She was understandably upset and said things; there was and still is no reason for it to go beyond that day.”

“Oh, Lexie, I don’t deserve you!”

Tears well in my own eyes as I reach for her hand. She takes it, squeezing gently before leaning in to hug me. “I love you, Lexie.” My throat is too clogged to respond, but I can see in her eyes that she knows. My heart feels ten times lighter knowing she and I will be okay.

Marcee leaves shortly after, promising to check in later. After an x-ray that confirmed only a sprained ankle, I was taken back to my room. If all goes well, they will release me after the evening rounds. I’m still sore, but the pain meds are a godsend, making it a dull throb now.

My eyes are so heavy and I fight to stay awake, but I know it's a losing battle. Finn looks exhausted. He likely has been up all night. “Hey, babe. Why don’t you head home too and get some rest?”

“Like hell am I leaving you here, baby. If you’re here, then I’m here.” His voice grows rough and his eyes turn glassy. My heart aches for this man as I imagine if this situation were reversed and he was the one hurt. It would kill me.

Instead of pushing him to leave, I scootch over in the bed and pat the spot next to me. He eyes the monitors and tubes hooked up to me, but I turn pleading eyes on him and he gives in. The bed shifts slightly as he crawls in beside me, wrapping me in his arms. A contented sigh leaves my lips. I plan to tell him how grateful I am for his presence but sleep overtakes me before I can get a word out.

It feels like I blinked then I’m being poked and prodded again. With an inelegant grunt, I open my eyes. A new nurse is checking my vitals. Finn is still next to me and out cold with his mouth wide open breathing loudly. I stifle a giggle and meet the nurse's eye who seems to be working to do the same.

“How are you feeling?” she whispers and I appreciate her consideration for Finn. I may be the patient, but I know the last day has taken its toll on him as well.

“Sore, but the pain levels are manageable." She nods, making notes in my chart before checking my vitals again.

“The doctor should be by in the next hour and then we’ll know if we can get you out of here. Fingers crossed, there's nothing worse than hospital food for dinner.” She grimaces then looks to the door before leaning toward me and says in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s meatloaf on the menu tonight and it is awful, dense as a brick and smells like wet dog food.” Something beeps at her hip and she straightens before waving goodbye.

I add a little something extra to my prayer of getting out; the picture she painted of dinner instantly makes me nauseous. Movement at my side draws my attention. Finn’s eyes are on me and warmth floods through my veins at the love and concern I find there. And damn, it has me seeing our whole future together, and I want that future so much it hurts.

56

FINN

As Marcee left the hospital, I asked her to run past the hotel and retrieve our things. Alexis needed a comfortable outfit to wear home. Her dress had been torn and covered in blood, so it was not an option. Alexis moaned with pure joy when she pulled on one of my long-sleeved tees. That had been one of my requests for Marcee, that she brought my clothes for Alexis to wear. Not only because it fills me with possessive pride seeing her in my stuff, but I also thought the extra room in them would be more comfortable to get on and off. To her credit, Marcee just agreed and went along with my requests.

Since my car is still at the hotel, I hire a car to take us home. Alexis tries to hide it, but I can see how much it hurts to move, and every wince sends a stabbing pain through me. I’ll never get the image of her on that floor out of my mind.

As we pull into my drive, I’m already working on how I can convince her to move in with me. After experiencing the very real fear of losing her, I’m desperate to never be away from her again. I want her at my side and in my bed every day for the rest of my life, and I only hope I can convince her to take that step.

I carry her to my—hopefully, soon to be our—bedroom, even though she insists she can walk. I need to feel her in my arms and take care of her. Guilt still plagues me over not getting to her fast enough or not bringing her with me to the bar. So many “what ifs” hang in my mind.

“Finn, wait.” She stops me as I head for the bed. “Shower first. I feel so gross and want to be clean before climbing into bed. Please?” Her voice is still rough and raspy from the damage. My heart lurches in my chest hearing it and knowing the cause. Unwilling to say no to anything she asks, I change course, taking her to the bathroom.

“How about I draw you a bath?” Her nose wrinkles and it brings a smile to my face.

“Ew. I have blood, hospital grime, and I don’t even want to think about what was on the club floor, no way am I sitting in a bath stew with all of that.” Before I can protest, she slaps a hand over my mouth. “I can shower, Finn. And if you are so worried, then join me.” I give her a you’ve got to be kidding me look at the sultry tone she uses. She laughs then grabs her throat and winces, breathing through the pain.

Fuck, I hate seeing her hurt. If she wants a shower, then she's getting a shower; there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.

“Okay, just wait here, and don’t move.” At her look of protest, I beg, “Please, baby, just let me take care of you.” Her eyes warm and I know she can see how badly I need this, so she nods, leaning against the vanity.

I sprint down the hall, grabbing the chair from Marcee’s desk so Alexis can sit in the shower. Her sharp gasp draws my attention, my pulse skyrocketing in fear that something is wrong. She's staring at herself in the mirror, mouth slightly open, and tears spilling from her eyes as she gently touches her bruised and swollen face.

One eye is swollen completely shut, and the whole left side of her face is black and blue. She runs her fingers over the bruises along the column of her neck. If you look closely, you can tell they are hand and finger-shaped. Steel enters her eyes at the sight of them, that's when she spots me in the mirror. She mutters, “I knew it was bad, but Finn, I look…It's…Why…” Her face crumples and I set the chair down, pulling her to me.

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know.” My voice breaks as my tears overflow. “I'll never understand how he could do this to you, but you’re still beautiful, and he still lost out on the most amazing woman.” She scoffs at my words but finally looks up, her face softening as she notes the chair.