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Except when Justin’s fist connected with flesh and bone, he didn’t stop. He rained blows on Rob’s face, not hearing his shouts, not recognizing Kylie’s frustrated screams.
They fell to the ground, scrabbling like wild beasts in the packed snow. He didn’t feel the cold, didn’t notice the wind-driven flakes pelting his face. Hell, he barely saw Rob’s watery green eyes swelling shut.
All he could see was the smug smile of the man who’d wielded a belt on his mother.
Never again.
“He didn’t hit me. He never hit me. Justin.” Kylie yanked at his arm, pulling him back. “It’s my fault he’s here. I called him to tell him I was okay—”
Shock rolled through Justin’s system. “You called him?” His attention switched to her for a moment, just long enough that Rob’s mammoth fist rammed directly into his eye.
And everything went black.
Five
Kylie paced back and forth between Justin’s living room and his kitchen, lacing and unlacing her fingers. The police had come and gone, and both sides had agreed not to press charges. Rob had asked her if she’d lost her mind to get involved with such a wack job, and at the moment she wasn’t sure she could argue. The look on Justin’s face when he’d leaped at Rob—
She shuddered. She’d never seen that much fury before. The kind of fury that could kill.
At first, discovering all the new sides and aspects of Justin had been fun and exciting. Alluring, even. Clearly she hadn’t scratched the surface of him in college. But this was a hell of a lot.
Then again, she’d been the one to jump into bed right away with Justin. He’d only been protecting her honor, whether or not she needed it.
She swallowed and pressed her palm against the pain drilling into her temple. She’d gone from the pinnacle of pleasure to the depths of terror with barely a minute to breathe. No wonder a mariachi band had taken up residence in her skull.
Her body still hurt from yesterday, though nowhere near as much as it had last night. She kept flexible from Pilates and yoga, so she’d bounced back pretty quickly. Not to mention she’d gotten big-time lucky that her fall hadn’t been worse.
But now it seemed like her luck had dried up.
On her trip back into the living room, she stared at the man sulking silently on the couch. He was bare-chested, and his dark hair stuck out in twenty different directions. Then there were the twin bruises that shadowed the entire left side of his face.
She winced. His cheek must be throbbing.
“Do you want more ice?” she asked, not coming any closer than the doorway. She wasn’t afraid of him for herself, not physically. Even in the midst of freaking hand-to-hand combat, he’d eased her out of the way with the care of a grizzly cradling a baby bird in his paw.
“No.” The ice pack sat in his lap, melting all over his jeans. The splotch of wet ran all the way down one thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. “I’m fine.”
She couldn’t take this tense silence between them anymore. “You sure look fine.” She strode forward until their knees bumped and bent down to grip his chin, turning his face toward the fireplace. She’d rekindled the fire, and that was the only thing that chased the gloom out of the gray day.
He hadn’t wanted lights. Or medical attention. Or for her to even stay. That pissed her off the most.
“You look like hell,” she said finally, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling. She couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment. “You hit the ground pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“Justin—”
“Did I badger you when you went off half-cocked on a snowmobile you had no clue how to ride and got into an accident? Did I lecture you? No. I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”
She slapped her hands on her hips. “I was fully cocked, thank you very much.” To her surprise, his lips twitched, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “And I had a clue how to ride. Sort of. I’ve gone out a few times, just not alone. I wasn’t thinking straight. But you were.”
“Was I?” His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wiping her suddenly damp palms on her freshly laundered jeans from last night, she sat next to him. She made a show of tugging the pretty plaid throw off the back of the couch. Once she’d wrapped herself in fleece and the comforting scent of his soap and woodsy shampoo, she lifted her eyebrows. “So tell me.”
“Just like that?”
“I told you about me and Rob.”
