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“Mostly just pictures I took of my bruises in the mirror, but one night after a particularly bad fight, I had to go to the hospital because I knew he’d done damage that I couldn’t treat myself. I went to a hospital in Maryland because I knew they might call the cops even if I told them not to. I convinced them not to, but asked them to take pictures and document my injuries-”
“What kind of injuries?” I asked.
Ethan’s eyes flashed to mine and he shook his head.
“What kind of injuries, Ethan?” I asked, softening my voice. He held my gaze for a long moment before speaking. But he refused to keep looking at me.
“He broke my arm and two ribs. I needed stitches here,” Ethan murmured as he touched a spot behind his ear. “I was bleeding…rectally…but it didn’t stop on its own so I was worried he’d done more damage than usual…”
As Ethan’s voice fell off, I felt my body lock up so tight that I knew I needed to get out of there.
“Ronan, I think Ethan needs a break,” I cut in before Ethan could continue his story.
Ronan’s eyes met mine and I knew that he knew what was going on with me, but he merely nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Ethan, do you want to go check on Lucy?”
Ethan nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“How about we meet back here in fifteen minutes or so?” Ronan suggested.
I managed to keep control of myself as I nodded. I was out of the room like a shot as soon as the other men stood up. I had one destination in mind and as I made my way there, I was supremely grateful that I’d been in the house enough to know where things were.
Ronan and Seth’s home gym wasn’t huge, but it didn’t matter because it had two things I needed in the moment. One, it was in the basement which afforded me the privacy I needed. Two, it had a weight bag that could take the brunt of my anger. I didn’t bother with gloves as I approached the bag. I didn’t even need an image of Eric’s face, which I had yet to actually see but that I vaguely remembered from the news reports years earlier, to spur me on as I slammed my fist against the heavy bag. No, all I needed was the image of Ethan’s battered body and the sound of his broken sobs as I’d held him in that fucking shower.
Within minutes, my body ached from the relentless punches, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t at all surprised when Phoenix appeared and silently went around to the other side of the bag and held it so it wouldn’t swing as much when I slammed my fist into it. Five minutes later, sweat was dripping down my face and my entire body burned.
Unfortunately, so did the rage.
“Better?” Phoenix asked as he stepped around the bag to watch me as I snagged a towel off a rack against the wall.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I think you need to go change,” he said softly. “I’ve got an extra shirt in my bag over there,” he added. I followed his gaze to a black bag sitting on a shelf near the door. It didn’t surprise me that the man had already made use of the gym. He was built like a fucking tank.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I went to the bathroom attached to the gym and stripped off my sweat-stained shirt. I turned on the tap and got my towel wet so I could wipe away the worst of the sweat. A quick dunking of my hair under the cool water helped counter some of the heat and tension still running through my body. By the time I returned to the gym, Phoenix was waiting for me, bottle of water in hand. I took it and drained it with just a few swallows. I wasn’t surprised when he handed me another bottle.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked in irritation. “Don’t pretend that shit doesn’t piss you off too,” I added.
Phoenix looked at me patiently before saying, “We’ve heard “that shit” before. First time you’ve needed to take the fucker out before the vic is even done telling their story.”
“He’s not a victim,” I interjected before I could even consider what I was saying. I didn’t know why the term bothered me so much since I knew it hadn’t been meant as a criticism. But just knowing how much Ethan had likely left out of his story and remembering how he’d fought back that day I’d woken him from his nightmare had started making me thinking of him as a survivor.
I felt a wave of discomfort go through me as Phoenix studied me. I’d worked with the man several times and knew how good he was at reading people.
