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“Hayes was here when I left,” I tell her.
“I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see him.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, princess.”
Another vehicle pulls into the drive behind the doctor and darts around to enter the garage.
Dom jumps out of his SUV and rushes over to where we’re parked. He almost rips the passenger door off my car to get to June. “You!” he growls at Simon in the back seat. “You fucking did this.” He goes toward the back of my car and June reaches out to stop him.
“Dominic. If you know what’s good for you, you will not make another fucking move.” June slides her feet out and presses them to the ground. She’s wobbly but remains upright.
I dart out to steady her. “Leave him alone, Dom. Things could have been worse without him.”
June moves between Simon’s door and Dom, pressing her small frame in to block Dom from doing anything else. “Get out of my way,” she tells him. She glares at him with a force that could wreak terror in any man.
Dom surprisingly takes a step back, giving her the space she demanded.
She shuffles out of the way and struggles to open the door.
I grab it for her and watch in wonder as Beckett steps out of the backseat of my car.
“Let him through or I’m leaving.” June marches toward the house.
I motion for Simon to follow her and head in behind them, blocking the path from Dominic. There's no telling what he will do, and this isn't the opportune time for him to completely lose his shit. We’re dangling by a thin thread as it is, and we cannot afford for him to set June over the edge. He’s already done enough, and it’s a wonder she’s here at all. She has more patience than a fucking saint.
I spot Coen the second June opens the door.
His eyes widen and his entire face tenses. “What the fuck happened?”
That’s pretty much on par with how I reacted, too. Although, I don’t know if I have that harsh of a wrinkle between my brows. I may have a few years on him, but damn if our job doesn’t cause him a hell of a lot more stress. Or maybe it’s just that I handle mine differently than he does.
“Step aside, Hayes,” I call out to him before he can cause any trouble.
We all funnel into the large area between our sitting room and kitchen. It's definitely the most trafficked part of the house, being that it's located near the garage and has most of our food supplies. Our second-floor kitchen has most of our backup rations and shit that doesn't fit in this fridge, but it's seldom anyone is up there for anything more than grabbing a drink or snack in the middle of the night because they're too lazy to walk downstairs.
June gravitates toward Simon, and he to her. It's clear he's the only one she wants to be around, and I don't blame her at all for that. But it doesn't make my heart hurt any less.
I go the rest of the way in and stand next to Simon, providing somewhat of a buffer between him and the rest of the idiots. If anyone is less likely to murder him, it’s probably me. It’s not that it hasn’t crossed my mind from time to time, but he’s proven himself these past six months, and whatever hatred I had toward him back then has faded into a distant memory.
He’s mostly tolerable at this point.
And if that’s howIfeel about him given our minimal interactions, it’s no wonder June has developed feelings for him. The two of them spend nearly every day together. He gets to be himself with her, even when he’s playing the role of bodyguard. He doesn’t have to lie or deceive her. Honestly, I kind of want to trade places with the dude and give up my role in the company to spend every waking moment with her. Hell, all the sleeping ones, too.
I fucking hate leaving the house before she’s up and coming back when she’s fast asleep. I still go in there and kiss her good morning and good night but it’s nothing compared to her falling asleep or waking up in my arms. Some nights I crawl into bed with her, but knowing how difficult getting a good night’s rest is for her, I don’t want to disturb her any more than I already do. And sometimes it takes me longer than I like to scrub the blood out from under my fingernails and come completely clean from the things my job forces me to do. It feels wrong to slide into bed with an angel when I’m nothing but a devil.
“Who needs my medical attention?” Dr. Murphy breaks the awkward silence.
Everyone points to June who remains in place, her arm hanging limply at her side, dried blood coating the skin around Simon's make-shift tourniquet.
“Very well.” Murphy approaches her. “Is there somewhere more private we could go?”
“Yeah,” June speaks. “This way.” She turns, but not before grabbing onto Simon’s hand and tugging him down the hall with her.
I feel the tension radiate from Dominic and Hayes but neither of them does a damn thing about it. They turn to me once the three have disappeared from sight.
“Details, now,” Dominic growls.
I sigh and recall the information Simon gave me. “Well, she’s fucking pissed at you, to say the very least.”
