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“I’m so sorry I asked.” Guilt pulls at my chest.
“Stop. I won’t hear it. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Brothers, eh?” She laughs again, and I smile because I know what she means. I love my brother, Brett, more than anything. He’s always put me first, too. He was out looking for me that day Gareth dumped me. He shouldn’t have even been walking on that road. I’m the reason he was.
My smile slips.I’m the reason.
“I hate to break up all the fun,” Logan says. “ButMissFoxyFarnhamjust messaged me back.”
“What did she say?” Jasmin straightens, her voice suddenly filling with energy.
I straighten up too, grateful for the change to a lighter topic.
Logan’s eyes light up and his brows shoot up his forehead as he reads the message. “She said, I have a girlfriend, not a boyfriend.” He grins as his fingers fly over the screen typing out a reply.
“Please tell me American men aren’t such dicks?” Jasmin says loud enough for Logan to hear, but he’s far too busy studying his phone, his cheeks glowing.
I bite my lip, pushing Gareth firmly to the back of my mind.
“I wish I could.”
Jasmin and Logan drop me off at the main estate gate, after buzzing it open for me, and I walk up the main drive toward the turn off for the cottage. It’s still light. After Dax’s warning the other night, had it been dark, then I would have asked them to drop me at the front door. But I like the walk. It’s not far. And the estate is beautiful. The main drive is lined with these weird-looking trees called monkey puzzles. They have long textured branches that hang down like monkey tails. I guess that’s where they get the name.
I step back so I can stare at one of the trees.
That’s when the main gate whirrs and a silver Range Rover without the estate logo on the side glides through. It drives right up to me, only slowing to a stop because I’m standing in the road. If I wasn’t, then I get the distinct impression it was about to drive past me.
I look through the windshield and lock eyes with dark brown. Dax stares back, his eyes holding mine as he swipes his thumb across his lips and licks the corner of them.
I walk over to the driver’s side window and wait as it slides down just enough that the top half of his face is visible through the tinted glass.
“What happened to your face?” I stare at the beginnings of a bruise shading the contours of Dax’s cheekbone and unease gnaws low in my stomach. Something isn’t right. “Roll the window down. Now.”
His eyes flash with something before he presses the button, and the glass slides all the way down.
“Dax?” I gasp as I take in his face. His cheekbone is bruised and his lip split, blood staining the crease at the corner of his mouth.
“It’s nothing.” He looks through the windshield, his hands flexing on the wheel. His knuckles are grazed, his right ones swollen.
“Where have you been?”
He shakes his head with an empty chuckle. “This isn’t your fight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He snaps his eyes to mine and they’re dark and glistening. “It means go home.”
“No!” I’m fed up with him ordering me around, thinking he knows best. My family sent me here, thinking they know what is best for me. Other people are always telling me what to do.
Be kind to yourself, Rose. You need time, Rose. It wasn’t your fault, Rose.
I march around the hood of the Range Rover and yank the passenger door open.
“What are you doing?” Dax grits, his jaw tensing as I climb into the passenger seat and slam the door shut.
“Hanging out with a jerk, it would seem,” I mutter as he glares at me.
“A jerk?” he growls.
“Yeah.” I look at the fresh blood running from his lip again. “One with a face that’s too pretty to be banged up like that. Now drive, please.” I fold my arms and face straight ahead, waiting for him to argue, to contradict me. To make me get out of the car and leave me here as he kicks up gravel and dust in my face.
