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“You fucking his bitch again?”
“Nope. I won’t fuck that again. I did let her suck my dick, though.”
“No choice this time, Jag, we’re going to the ER.”
Jag is getting sewn up as I text Morrison to meet me. I ask the ER doc how long it’s gonna be, and he tells me an hour at least.
It isn’t long before Morrison texts me that he’s out front, and I tell Jag I’ll be back. He’s half asleep and doesn’t give a shit. His rib is cracked, but he’s hopped up on pain pills.
I open the door to Morrison’s car and get in.
“He okay?”
“He will be, but this shit is done. That mother fucker is done.” I punch his dash.
“Dude, not the dash.” Morrison rubs where I hit. “Save it for the fucking pussies who jumped Jag. How many are we looking at, by the way?”
“Four, five, he wasn’t sure.”
“Fuck,” he says and looks down at his shirt. “I’m gonna fuck up the threads.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Movement in the room wakes me from my slumber.
“Hendrix?” I greet groggily, looking over at the clock that reads five-twelve.
“Go back to sleep, Livi.” His voice is gravely with fatigue.
I sit up, looking through the dark at him. “You’re late,” I simply state, trying to keep my girlie emotions in check.
Where has he been? The bar has been closed for hours. More than where has he been, who has he been with? My mind races.
He walks into the bathroom, the light catches, and I see his face is different shades of purple. Quickly scanning down his exposed torso as he changes, I see the red marks of irritation around his ribs even through the tattoos.
Sliding out of the bed, I follow him to the bathroom. His hands are busted, and his knuckles are covered in abrasions, swollen, and clearly irritated.
“Hendrix?” I question from the doorway of the bathroom as he continues to strip and climb into the shower.
What happened? I mentally ask myself.
“Livi?” he replies.
“Why are you banged up?” I ask as fear builds inside me.
Did someone attempt to rob him? Jump him?
“Go back to sleep. You have to work tomorrow. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“That’s all you’re sorry for?” I rub my butt. ‘Keep it real’ is my current inspiration. How fitting.
He raises an eyebrow at me, but this only sets my temper off more.
“You come home late, clearly you have been in an altercation of some sort, and all you say to me is ‘I’m sorry I woke you up?’ How about, ‘Livi, I wasn’t mugged tonight, but about these cuts and bruises…’?”
He smirks at me.
“Well, were you robbed? Do we need to call the cops? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“Livi—”
“Don’t you Livi me! You’re hurt. We need to get you looked at.”
“I’ve already been to the hospital once tonight. I’m not going back.”
“What!” I shriek. “You went to the hospital and didn’t call me? I can’t believe you wouldn’t want me to be there.”
“Chill, Livi, and let me get a word in.”
I put my hands on my hips and tap my foot, waiting for him to continue.
“Jagger got jumped tonight. After I got him to the emergency room and stitched up, Morrison and I went and took care of it. I’m home now. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you have to work at the hospital, so go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few.”
“Is Jagger okay?”
“Yes, Livi. Now, please, go to bed.”
I blow out a breath. He wasn’t mugged. Scrapper. He was in a fight for his brother.
One thing I love about the Caldwell brothers is their loyalty to each other. They are a family.
My frustration builds. I understand why he did it, but his attitude coming home bothers me. Coming in at five in the morning like it’s okay bothers me. Coming in and not explaining what is going on bothers me. There is so much about this situation that bothers me.
Go back to bed. Go back to bed. The more I stand here, and he dismisses me, the more annoyed I get.
Fine, I decide, I’ll go back to bed.
I lay there, unmoving, as the bed dips a short while later, and Hendrix climbs in. He pulls me to him, and as much as I want to fight it, I can’t. He is home. He is safe. A little banged up, but it is not nearly as bad as it could have been.
I fall back asleep, but all too soon, my alarm goes off, and I quickly dismiss it. Moving off Hendrix, I get up slowly, trying not to wake him.
I watch him as he sleeps. He has a black eye, a cut on his nose, but otherwise, he is looking much better than just hours ago.
Finally, I move efficiently and leave the room without waking him.
