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“I’m sure you did. Can you look at me?”
When he doesn’t move, I reach over and turn the burner off, “please.”
He turns around and confirms what I heard.
There is another bruise on his beautiful jaw and his eye is swollen again.
“I heard everything,” I say as I take a step closer to him, grabbing his hand.
“You did?” His eyes widen.
“I’m not using you,” I assure him.
“I know you’re not. I don’t know what his problem is,” he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry he hurt you, because of me,” I whisper.
“Sweetheart, I will always keep you safe,” he says.
“I feel safe when I’m with you,” I say, taking refuge in his arms as he holds me.
Kingston
She didn’t need to apologize, this wasn’t her fault. I’m upset that she heard all of it. I’m not going to let it ruin the day that we’ve planned for her, though.
When she said she felt safe with me, my heart soared.
I turn the burner back on and finish the bacon as she scrambles some eggs. She makes our plates, warming one for Thorn. I fill a mug of coffee for her and we sit down at the counter to eat. We eat in silence, which is okay. It was getting hard to talk. Lane might not have broken my jaw, but I sure can feel the bruise. I thought it was my eye socket, but it’s my jaw that hurts the worst. I will get it checked out if it’s still hurting later.
I wanted today to be perfect, and hopefully I can remedy this.
I take our plates to the sink and start to wash them when a phone rings.
“It’s not mine,” Briar says and I realize it’s mine.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Kingston, it’s Thorn. Can you please walk out of the room?” He sounds worried.
“Business call,” I lie to Briar and I step outside.
“What’s up?”
“Someone has been in our apartment. The door was open when I got here and her tip jar is broken, all of it all over the floor. I don’t know if any of it is missing,” he says.
“Okay, we are not going to say anything about this to her today. Grab a couple bags and stuff as much as you can into them, things you will need. Grab what you can of her tip jar, put it in a plastic bag, and then come straight here.”
“Okay, thank you,” he hangs up.
I step back inside, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.
“Anything wrong?” she asks.
“No, just one of the guys asking if he can train tomorrow,” I lie.
“On a weekend?”
“I need to train a new fighter and sometimes we train six days a week,” I lie again.
