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Her long black hair was pulled into a messy bun, unruly strands sticking out haphazardly around her head. And her face? A complete disaster.
Her left cheek and jaw had taken on a new color. They were a bluish-purple tint, a drastic improvement over the raw, reddish black of a week ago. The left side of her forehead was still a little puffy, but the swelling had gone down enough that it no longer hurt every time her expression shifted. She could also open her left eye now. Not all the way, but she’d take any progress as a win.
The right side of her face had fared better, relatively speaking. Still, there was considerable bruising toward her ear and six tiny stitches on the edge of her lower lip.
Preston’s eyes flashed in her mind. Tropical blue and spotted by flecks of green, they were the first part of him she had fallen in love with. They were also the last thing she remembered seeing before losing consciousness. In those final moments, they’d been anything but beautiful. The calm blues had transformed, raging at her with the fury of an ocean storm.
Somewhere in the background of her memories, a familiar song played softly, mocking her.
“Take my hand. Take my whole life, too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
While his eyes had raged, so had his fists. The hands that had once held her close had instead rained down upon her. She’d tried to fight back, but it had quickly become too much. When he’d kicked her, her breath had seized in her lungs, and she hadn’t been able to move. The intensity of his rage had convinced her he was actually going to do it this time. Her husband was really going to kill her.
And he nearly had.
The sound of the front door opening brought Alex back to the present. She squared her shoulders, ignoring the uncomfortable pull of her tender muscles.
“You’re safe here,” she murmured to her reflection. She placed a protective hand over her abdomen. “We’re both safe here.”
If only she believed it.
CHAPTERTWO
Quinn O’Conner sat in his usual corner booth at Ray’s Diner and stared out the window, watching the boats at the marina across the street bob up and down with the tide. The smell of bacon and fried food should have comforted him, but it didn’t. His jaw was beginning to ache from grinding his teeth, but he didn’t care. He was brooding, the meal in front of him forgotten.
No. He was beyond brooding. He was thoroughly pissed.
Joe had done it again. The fucker.
When his childhood best friend had called him a few days earlier and said he was sending over a friend to crash at his place, Quinn had assumed that Joe was being straight with him. But after one look at Alex, he’d realized Joe had purposely withheld details about this particular “friend.” He’d bet his life on it. And to Quinn, lying by omission was still lying.
As if he didn’t already have enough to deal with, now he had Alex Garcia to worry about. Because something had his gut screaming that trouble was coming.
Well, he wasn’t going to be swayed by her broken and bruised appearance. He was done playing the hero to alleged damsels in distress. No matter how badly his first instinct was to throw a protective bubble around her—and then beat the living piss out of whoever had knocked her around. He’d been deceived before. And hehatedthat damn fool-me-once saying.
Should he keep an eye out to protect Alex from whatever trouble she’d come here to escape? Or wasshethe trouble?
He didn’t fucking know. And though he’d tried to convince himself that he didn’twantto know, he couldn’t lie to himself. He was curious. And that seriously pissed him off.
Letting out a deep breath, he slowly worked his jaw side to side. If Joe were in front of him, he would have said some choice words. He loved the guy like a brother, but still...
Quinn’s foul mood further soured when an auburn-haired blur noisily plopped down onto the seat across from him, then yanked the menu out from under his elbow.
“Dude, what’s with the scowl? And gee, thanks for waiting for me to order,” the woman grumbled as she flipped through the menu. She absently nodded to the entrance. “In case you care, your face is not at all pretty right now, and itmightscare off those tourists that just walked in. If they leave because of your ugly mug, I can guarantee you Ray will be more than happy to kick your ass. I’d even hold you down for him. In fact, I would pay good money for the privilege and—”
“Take a breath, Roxie. You’re giving me a headache,” he interrupted, even though he knew it was useless.
“You know, Quinn, that mumbling, I’m-the-strong-but-silent-type thing you do gets really annoying.” She glanced up from the menu. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you that if you keep frowning like that, your face will stay that way forever? You’re what, thirty-seven, thirty-eight now? It’s a little too early for you to look like a constant sourpuss.”
He stared at the woman across from him. Roxanne Elizabeth Jameson. They’d known each other their entire lives—and she’d been a pain in his ass the whole time. Along with Joe, they’d grown up in each other’s homes, experiencing their happiest and darkest days together. They knew one another better than they knew themselves.
So, as he studied Roxie’s expression, he recognized that she wouldn’t let up until she got her way. He shook his head, and the corners of his lips curved up.
She raised her arms in victory. “Aha, half a smile! Success!” After a moment, she grew somber, pinning him with her green eyes. It was only years of practice that had him not squirming under her scrutiny. “Seriously, what’s with the face? You look like you want to slug someone.”
“You volunteering, Roxie?” He could deflect all damn day.
“Don’t be a smart-ass, Quinn. It’s not attractive.” With a roll of her eyes, she reached across the table and stole a handful of fries. “Spill it.”
