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“Go home, Katherine. I don’t want you here.”
Tightening her grip on the counter, she fought back the hurt his words inflicted and lifted her chin. “I thought lies weren’t allowed between us, sir.”
“Go. Home.”
“Fuck. You.”
“Excuse me?”
Swallowing past the dryness in her throat, she pushed away from the counter and stalked over to him, jabbing a finger in his chest. Some dark part of her cheered when he wobbled on his crutches, even as she reached to steady him. “I said, fuck you if you think I’m just going to leave you here, alone, when you’ve been injured. Would you leave me?”
“Of course not, but that’s—”
“I swear on all that is holy, if you say ‘that’s different’ I will stab you.” Anger had worked its way past the fear, righteous fury boiling in her veins. “You may be my Dom, and you may be the one who makes the rules, but I thought we were partners. I won’t have you pushing me aside because your ego is a little bruised.”
“It’s not my goddamn ego!”
She was close enough now to see the fear he was trying so desperately to hide behind his anger. “What is it, then? Talk to me, Austin. I’m not going anywhere until you do.”
“I’m done, Kit. I fucking ripped the tendons to shreds in my knee.”
“That's what the doctor said?”
“I don't need a doctor to tell me what I already know, Kit.”
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she weighed her words carefully. “What exactlydidthe doctor say?”
“Does it matter?” he snapped, bitterness coating his tone.
“Yes. If the doctor didn’t flat out tell you that you're done, then how do you know you’re done? Maybe you just need some time to heal and some physical therapy and you'll be good to go.”
“I've been injured before, Kit. I know the drill.”
Inhaling deeply, she reminded herself he was injured and hurting and scared, that the sharpness in his tone didn't really have anything to do with her. “Then help me understand why this time is different.”
“Doc said I might have torn my ACL. That means surgery, especially if I want to play again. And there's no guarantee that will even work.”
“Might have is a far cry from definitely. Don't go signing your own death warrant before they figure out exactly what's going on.”
The anger seemed to have faded, leaving behind just the fear she’d glimpsed in him earlier. “But what if ‘might have’ becomes ‘definitely did’? What if they can't fix me this time?”
“Oh, honey.” Cupping his face, she drew him down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.”
“What am I gonna do, Kit? This, the game, it’s all I have.”
“No, it isn’t. You have me, and I already said I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank god.” Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Thanks for not walking out on my sorry ass.”
“Never. But try kicking me out again, and I won’t be held responsible for what happens.”
“Hmm.” The corners of his lips lifted and when he opened his eyes, her breath caught in her chest at the wicked gleam in them. “Noted. In the meantime, I owe you for swearing at me. Is that how you talk to your Sir?”
“It is when he’s being an idiot.”
He laughed, a deep belly laugh that soothed her rattled nerves. “Fair enough. But once I’m healed up a little, I’m going to spend a week reminding you who’s in charge.”
“As long as you don’t ice me out again. Deal?”
