It swelled at the disturbing thought we hadn’t seen the last of him.
Not by a long shot.
Ras
Isabella led me up the front steps, through the front door, and into the front room.
“Isabella?” Esme called from the kitchen. “Is that you and Clint?”
“Yeah.”
“Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
The fact she showed no concern meant she couldn’t have known what’d taken place outside.
Isabella deposited me in her father’s big armchair.
Her eyes moved to one side as she thought our current situation over.
“Hey, Mom…?”
“Yeah?”
I took Isabella by the arm and gently shook my head.
“Don’t get her involved.”
“She’s treated me no end of times over the years. She might not be a trained nurse but she’s a hell of a sight better caregiver than I am.”
“They’re only splinters. I won’t die.”
“You might by the time I’m done with you.”
I rubbed the inside of her forearm with my thumb and spoke softly.
“Don’t.”
Esme fussing over me like a mother hen could only make matters worse.
She paused a moment, her eyes flicking between mine, and her resolve broke.
“Hello?” her mom called from the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”
Isabella still hadn’t decided how she would respond yet.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I just… Never mind.”
Esme turned back to whatever she was working on and hummed a happy tune to herself.
“You don’t want Pop to know about this either, I take it?” Isabella said.
I shook my head.
“It’s better that way.”
Isabella didn’t look so sure it was but she would follow my lead.
“Then we’re going to have to get you upstairs. One of them could come wandering in here any moment. Let me grab the First Aid kit.”
She opened a cabinet in the corner of the room and took down the little green box.
She clutched it under one arm as she yanked on my forearm with her free hand.
I couldn’t put my splintered hands down on the armrests to shove myself up onto my feet.
I limped slightly—not from taking a direct injury to my legs but because the blows I received to my head made me a little dizzy when I walked.
We headed up the stairs, made even more difficult by the fact I couldn’t grasp the handrail.
A cool sweat broke across my brow by the time we reached the top of the stairs that had nothing to do with the exertion.
It appeared the fight had taken more out of me than I realized.
We got to the hallway we shared, with her room on one side, and mine on the other.
She made to lead me into her room and I fought against her to head toward mine.
“I don’t want to make a mess in your room,” I said.
“It’s always a mess.”
“I mean, I don’t want to get blood on your things.”
“Better on my things than on my brother’s. He’s very touchy about his things.”
“Then he’s going to really love what I did to his t-shirt.”
Her eyes floated down to the tear along one side.
“Now how did that happen?”
“I’m not sure. Liam must have done it at some point.”
Isabella pressed me against the wall and peered up at me.
“Look, this whole thing is going to go a lot easier if you just let me take control.”
“Control of what?”
“Of taking care of you.”
“What if your parents wander in and see we’re in your room?”
“You think it would be better if it happened in my brother’s room instead?”
I hesitated.
Her eyes flashed victoriously.
“Follow me and stop being a baby.”
I groaned as she led me into her room.
It was larger than mine, with an extra wardrobe along one wall.
It was painted faded pink that might once have been described as vibrant.
It wasn’t the color I would associate with Isabella, who struck me as a more down-to-earth earthy browns and forest greens kind of girl.
But I guessed the little girl who grew up in this room had changed when she moved away to the city.
She placed me in a wingbacked chair in the corner of her room.
Then she dropped to her knees and opened the First Aid kit and rooted around inside it.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need medical attention.”
She braced her hands on her hips.
“Why is it every man doesn’t think he needs help when he needs it more than anyone else? Listen to me, buster, you’re getting my help whether you want it or not.”
She leaned forward and pecked me on the nose.
The instant her skin touched mine, there was another shock between us and a sharp crack that sounded loud in my ears—most likely because it occurred so close to my ears.
My eyes lit up, and so did hers.
Something was going on between us.
We both knew that.
Something neither of us could quite explain.
“You’re going to get my help whether you want it or not,” Isabella said. “Now, open your hand.”
“Which one?”
“Either.”
I extended my right hand to her like a flower opening first thing in the morning.
She gasped when her eyes came to the shards of wood jutting from the soft skin of my palm.
She tutted and began to pull the splinters out one by one and placed them on a piece of tissue on the floor.
“You don’t need my help,” she chastised, shaking her head. “Just like a man.”
I shut my eyes and let her get on with it.
The first blow Liam had dealt me had been the strongest, but not the worst.
It hit me so hard it made my neck turn sharply in its socket and if it wasn’t for the thick muscles on my shoulders, I thought he might have broken something.
He might still have and my body hadn’t registered it yet.
The second blow caught me across the temple and the softer flesh of my head.
Due to my recent crash, it stood to do the most harm.
The last thing I wanted was to lose the few memories I’d gained with Isabella the past couple of days.
I never wanted to forget the softness of her skin, the feel of her lips against mine.
The look in her eyes when I approached her.
It was too valuable.
I couldn’t
