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“What happened?” Trey asked.
“Misunderstanding,” Dahlia muttered.
Trey ground his teeth. “With who?”
“My ex-roommate, Belinda.”
“She did this?” Trey asked.
Dahlia clamped her lips, averting her gaze across the room.
“Dahlia?”
“Her boyfriend was there, and two other guys from their band.” Dahlia sighed. “She said she had to get the rest of her stuff. But she’d gotten everything when she moved out, so I was questioning her, and well, let’s just say they lost their patience. They pushed their way inside.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! Who the fuck opens their door for people who aren’t supposed to be there? What the fuck were you thinking?” Rogue snapped.
Dahlia pushed to the edge of her seat and pointed to her face. “I didn’t think this would happen!”
Trey grabbed her wrist, pulled it down to her lap, and didn’t let go. She peeked over at him and then bowed her head.
He kept his focus on her without looking directly at Dahlia. But she was staring up at him. He could feel it. When he heard the faint sniffling, he ground his teeth, fighting against the intense heat rushing through his veins.
“You need to pull your shit together and tell us what the fuck happened!” Rogue shouted, and Trey immediately tensed, knowing that coming at her harshly wouldn’t get them anywhere. Dahlia was clearly upset and needed consoling, something Rogue was incapable of.
“I’m sorry, Rogue. Does my trauma offend you?” Dahlia hissed.
“Look at me,” Trey said, cupping her jaw, and she immediately obliged. She sniffled, trying to stop the tears, but they were relentless and beyond her control. She brushed her palms under her eyes, smearing what was left of her mascara.
“Why is he yelling at me?” she whispered.
Trey brushed her hair away from her face, looping it over her ear. “’Cause he’s an asshole!”
Trey rested his hands on her knees, sliding his thumbs over her skin. Soothing and comforting had never been his strong suit, but he’d try. For her.
“Ignore him and look at me.”
Dahlia gave a subtly nod as he zoned in on her face, noticing her faint swollen lip, which only infuriated him more. Unlike Rogue, he wouldn’t direct his anger at her. Trey remained silent, giving her some time to breathe and calm down. It also gave him time to do the same. Seeing Dahlia in this state had Trey’s possessive and protective side coming out in full force.
“Am I interrupting?” The high-pitched voice was all too familiar and not welcome, at the moment.
The last person this situation needed was Sloane Baxter.
“Get the fuck out!” Rogue snapped.
Trey glanced over his shoulder, catching Nash’s deep stare at Trey’s hands on Dahlia. That would be another issue he’d have to handle, but first he’d deal with Sloane.
Sloane widened her eyes and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Oh, you want me to leave. Are you sure?” Sloane stepped to the side but wasn’t retreating. In fact, she was slyly advancing into the room, eyeing Dahlia.
“You need me to explain, ‘get the fuck out?’” Rogue asked.
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to leave or everyone did. You didn’t clarify.”
Oh, Christ! Trey did not need this right now.
Rogue’s jaw squared, and his pupils dilated until it appeared his eyes had turned black. Trey may have been teetering on losing his patience with Sloane, but Rogue had completely lost his. Trey dropped his hands from Dahlia’s legs and stood, rounding the chair and putting himself in between Rogue and Sloane.
“You want to take a fucking poll?” Rogue shouted.
