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“Fuck this.” Ty strode across the room with a fierce scowl, moving straight toward Kelsie.
“No, Ty—” Brenna started, but he ignored her, crouching in front of Kelsie.
“I’m going to carry you,” he said in a voice that brokered no argument. “You won’t be able to make it up the stairs. Swear on my fucking life I won’t hurt a hair on your head. I’ll also let you point out who hurt you so I can kill them if you want.”
“Ty…” This was a terrible idea. Kelsie would freak out if he tried to pick her up.
But the young woman stared at Ty with something akin to awe. “O-okay,” she said.
“Good.” He scooped her up like a damsel and strode from the room without another word.
Brenna stared after them in wonder. “What the hell?” she whispered.
“Don’t question it,” Lock said at her ear. “Ty’s a damn good man. She’ll be safe.” Lock gripped the back of her neck and gave a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
The warmth of Lock’s palm steadied her and provided strength beyond what she possessed herself. Within minutes, he had her bundled in the back seat of someone’s SUV. Lock sat beside her with his arm around her while Kelsie curled up in a ball on Ty’s lap in the front seat. Hopefully, she’d find some much-needed rest, but the way Ty frowned and kept glancing down at her killed that notion. She seemed to be gazing at nothing with the same vacant stare Brenna had come to recognize.
“Rest,” Lock whispered before kissing the side of her head.
The simple command unlocked something in her, releasing a wave of intense fatigue she couldn’t ignore. With a sigh for the comfort of sitting on something other than the unforgiving floor, she rested her head on Lock’s shoulder.
Within seconds, she faded to sleep, confident in her safety and protection in Lock’s arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“IF YOU DON’T stop hovering and growling at me like you’re plotting my death, I’m going to kick your sorry ass out of the room,” Pulse muttered as he probed Brenna’s sore ribs where he crouched next to the bunk.
She winced, making Lock clench his fists to keep from smacking Pulse’s hands away from her.
“Fuck off,” he grumbled, glaring at his brother, who might not survive what little remained of the night.
Brenna reached for his hand from her spot lying on a bed in the bunkroom. “Lock,” she said, chuckling slightly. “Let the man do his job.”
“He’s hurting you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not really. He’s checking for injuries.”
He grunted, making her laugh again. Hell, if jokes at his expense got her grinning and happy, she could laugh at him all fucking day.
“All right.” Pulse rocked back on his heels. He glanced between Brenna and Lock. “I’m pretty sure nothing is broken, but the only way to be positive is an x-ray. But, like I said, I’m not overly worried about broken ribs. I’m pretty sure it’s just bruising, which is no joke. It runs all up and down your side, which will make it difficult to do much physical activity. You’ll be hurting for a week or two.”
“Fun,” Brenna muttered.
Lock squeezed her hand harder.
“I’ll get you some painkillers. Ice packs will help too. That gash near your eye is nasty. I can stitch it up for you here. I have lidocaine to numb it and a suture kit to close it up, but it’ll scar. If you go to the ER, you can request a surgeon stitch it closed for you, and you’ll have a much lower risk of scarring.”
“I’m not going to the hospital. Besides, I think a scar will be pretty kickass.”
Lock rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”
That had Brenna frowning. “Would it bother you?”
“Huh?” He blinked.
Her face flushed, and she avoided his gaze.
Lock cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You mean, would a scar bother me?”
