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I hadn’t seen Trace get this angry in a long time…not since Aaron attacked me. Trace was an easygoing guy and it took a lot to get him riled.
“Trace,” I whispered, placing my hand on his taut arm. “I’m okay.”
Slowly, he turned his head towards me, and some of the anger drained out of him. He released the guy, but not before giving him a hard enough shove that he went sprawling to the ground. The guy looked up in disbelief. For a second I thought he might attack Trace but instead he chose to pick himself up and walk away. I guess he wasn’t as dumb as he looked.
“Stay here,” Trace growled, bowing his head as he walked away. The brim of the fedora hid his gaze from me and I chewed my lip nervously.
Within seconds he was back, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. “We’re leaving,” he took my hand and practically dragged me out of the building.
People stared as we passed, the blue lights in the bar making them look strange—almost alien.
We drove back to the motel in silence, his grip so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw was clenched. I wanted to say something, but I figured silence was better.
He opened the motel door, letting me in first. I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with the edge of my tank top. “Trace—”
“I’ll be back,” he said in a steely tone, slamming the door closed behind him as he left. I jumped at the noise.
My bottom lip trembled with the threat of tears, but I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t.
Frustrated, I tore off my clothes and changed into pajamas.
I climbed under the itchy covers; eyes wide open.
Let him leave.
I didn’t care.
Honestly, I didn’t.
Okay, I did.
And that’s why it hurt.
“Baby, wake up. Wake up,” someone shook my shoulders. But I didn’t want to wake up. I’d been dreaming and it had been so good. “Olivia, wake up. I need to see your face. Come on. That’s my girl.”
My eyes opened to see Trace smiling down at me.
Why the heck was the jerk smiling at me when he’d left me in a rage?
I scooted away from him, my brows furrowing in anger. “Leave me alone,” I snapped, glaring at him.
“Olivia,” he whispered my name, reaching over to turn on the light. “I went to the drugstore and got some things,” he held up a plastic bag, shaking the contents.
“You just…left,” I seethed.
He bowed his head, his forehead wrinkling. “I’m sorry. I was angry, but not at you, never at you,” his green eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness. “That guy hurt you, Olivia. It made me mad and I’m sorry you had to see me like that. But I’m not sorry for protecting you.” He reached a tentative hand out to me. After a moment, I placed my hand in his. “Come here,” he coaxed.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before scooting close to him.
He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers skimming over my cheek and hovering there.
Anger flashed in his eyes again.
“You’re going to get a black eye,” he growled.
I placed my fingers just below my eye and winced. The skin was surprisingly tender. I didn’t think I smacked the floor that hard. I guess I was wrong.
“I fell,” I frowned, “it’s not like he hit me or anything.”
