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For a moment, I was stunned silent. “You aren’t going to demand to know?”
“I’d like to know,” he said in that same gentle, easy voice, “but only when you’re ready to share with me. We have the rest of our lives. I’m in no rush.”
I slumped back into my seat with my arms crossed over my still damp chest, strangely thrown off my stride by his response.
That must have been the reason for me opening my big mouth and saying, “It was a drop of blood on my white blouse that drove me to finally leave him. It was a new blouse, very pretty with a big kitten bow. I really liked it.”
More silence, and I could hear him taking in a deep, slow breath before he asked, “He hit you?”
“No, I would have gladly taken a hit at that point. We were at some fancy fundraiser, and he spent the evening entertaining himself by shredding me. He’d whisper in my ear, and I’d have to pretend it was sweet nothings and smile while he told me how worthless I was. After a few hours of it, I couldn’t pretend to smile anymore, so I bit my lip instead. I bit it so hard, I needed four stitches afterward. When he noticed, before he played concerned boyfriend for the audience, he gloried in my pain, fed on it like some sick psychic vampire. I had a moment of bitter clarity—I could see right to the middle of his soul, and the man was rotten. I was letting this rotten, bitter, vile man hurt me. He didn’t love me, no matter how much he said he did during the good times, and those good times were growing few and fewer. That’s what I thought as I watched the bloodstain from my lip spread like a red watercolor flower on my white silk blouse…I let myself be brought to this point, and I hated myself even more than I hated him.”
I waited for Tyler to say something, but he stayed silent as he pulled into a fast-food place and got in line.
I waited some more for a reaction as he drove up to the window, but he merely paid for our food, then handed me the bag. “Here, eat this,” he said. “No arguments, you need to eat.”
His no-nonsense tone had me opening the bag and eating some hot french fries before I even knew what I was doing. The salt hit my tongue, and I suddenly found myself ravenous, scarfing down the food while Tyler kept switching his gaze between me and the road. I ignored him, instead focusing on the basic and consuming pleasure of filling a hungry belly.
It wasn’t until I sipped the last of the soda that I recognized where we were. “Are we going to your house?”
He put his arm over my seat as he expertly parallel parked his SUV. “Is that okay with you?”
I paused, studying his calm…almost empty expression and grew a little weary. “Are you sure? You can just drop me off at home if you’re tired or whatever.”
He slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his massive chest expanding and drawing my gaze. The harsh streetlights made his face look sterner than usual, but when his blue eyes met mine, they were once again soft and gentle. And when he reached out and took my hand in his own, it shook a little, reminding me that he was also human and had been through a heck of a night.
“Please. I could use your company right now. No pressure for anything else. I just…I want to take care of you. Please. I need this.”
“Of course,” I said automatically, wanting to give him whatever he desired.
He didn’t say anything else as he walked around to my side of the SUV then scanned the street before opening my door. It was moments like this, when I could see his awareness of the dangers of the world in a way I wouldn’t ever be, I was reminded of his law enforcement background. It seemed like there were three different Tylers—the police officer, the Dom and Security Chief at Club Wicked, and Tyler the surfer who loved his family and cats.
Cats that greeted us with gusto the moment we stepped inside his foyer.
Crouching down, he gave each of the meowing cats a quick scratch before standing and holding out his hand to me. “Come on, princess. We need to take a look at that scrape on your neck. You got yourself good. How did it happen?”
While I told him about everything that had gone down after he’d left, he led me up the two flights of stairs to the master bedroom and its big, blue and white glass tile bathroom. There was a large stand-up shower big enough for three people, with multiple showerheads, and a deep bathtub up against the far wall. It wasn’t a huge space, but Tyler had made the most of it and it was sparkling clean.
