Page 40 of The Fighter

What a fucking embarrassment. He probably felt some sort of obligation to make sure I wasn’t permanently injured. He was a good guy, after all. As soon as I healed up, he’d find the quickest way to get me out of his door. And then he’d move so I wouldn’t find him again. My life was a fucked-up mess. Con wouldn’t want to deal with that bullshit. It was time to toughenup. I had to move on once Con kicked me out. After this, I still had to fight if I wanted to keep my sister alive.

I still had to beHusk.

The tide had shifted a little though. It was harder and harder to find Husk and easier and easier to recall Tav. I was fucked if I couldn’t get my head on straight.

Con sighed and rose from the bed. “I don’t think you remember, but Nik and I got you into the tub last night and cleaned you. I’m going to go get you some breakfast.”

Hecleanedme? I shifted beneath the blanket. Yep, I was naked. The embarrassment truly never ended. I ran my hand over my face, my chest, prodding sore areas. I frowned at a bandage on my arm. “What’s this?”

“Blood draw.”

“What?”

He pulled on a T-shirt. “My doctor was here. She checked you, and I told her I wanted bloodwork done.”

Hisdoctor? Who the hell had a doctor who made house calls? “Why the fuck do I need bloodwork?”

He had that line between his brows, Con’s subtle sign of irritation. “You were in that filthy warehouse. It wasn’t the first time you’d been around open wounds. I want to make sure you’re healthy.”

I stared at him.

He turned to walk out of the bedroom. “I’m going to get you breakfast so you can eat and then rest up. You need sleep to heal.”

I rubbed a particular sore bruise on my face, needing the pain to ground me and wake me the hell up. I couldn’t lounge in this bed all day. I was on borrowed time so as it was. Devlin would be wondering where I was. Fuck, had he seen me leave with Con? Would he retaliate against him? And why the hell was Con at the fight? I struggled to sit up, grunting through the pain in my ribs.I ran my hands over the wrap around my mid-section. “Con, I appreciate this, but I can’t be here all day. I have to get back to my apartment?—”

“No.”

I froze, one hand braced on the mattress behind me, the other on my stomach. “What?”

He leaned against his dresser. “You’re not going back to that apartment.”

My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“Nik’s already back from there. He cleaned it out, so all your possessions are labeled and in boxes in the spare bedroom here.”

My head was killing me, my face hurt, my whole body was one mass of agony, and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. “Con, what exactly are you saying?”

He pointed to the floor, as if that meant something. “You’ll now be staying here.”

I couldn’t process. “…Here.”

“Yes,here. You lived in the slums, and Nik said that apartment was a shithole.”

I deep breathed as my brain began to fit the pieces together. “Let me get this straight. After the fight—which, we need to talk about whythe fuckyou were there in the first place—you brought me here, had a doctor check me over, draw my blood. Did she take a fucking DNA sample too?” Con’s face darkened, but I didn’t take the hint. “Then, you sent your goon to where I live. Never mind the fact that I have no idea how you fucking figured that out. You had him pack up my shit, bring it here, and you’re now declaring this my home. All without fucking asking me about it.”

Con spoke through gritted teeth. “Excellent summary.”

Excellent summary. Excellentfuckingsummary.“You can’t do this, Con!” My voice had risen, something I rarely did but he had to see. He had to know, goddamnit. “You can’t just take overmy life because you want to fuck for a week. Because after you throw me out of this fucking million-dollar apartment you live in, I still have a life. It’s shitty, and I hate it, but there are things you don’t know, people that depend on me. So I still have to come out on the other side of this whole or I’mfucked.”

I thought he’d back down, or at least compromise. But no, oh no, not Con. He advanced on me, puffing out his chest, balling his fists, face like thunder. “That’s what you think?” His tone held an icy warning. I tried to stay upright, but my neck wouldn’t crane back that far, so I fell to the bed on my back with a groan as he towered above me. “That’s what youfuckingthink? That I’m doing all this because I want afuck?” His face was red, his entire body pulsing with currents of rage. He slammed his fists into the mattress on either side of my head and lowered his face inches from mine. “If all I wanted was a fuck, I’d go out and get one with a hell of a lot less complications,Husk.”

I flinched. The name felt like punch to my solar plexus. I reeled with it, absorbing the blow before anger took over, flooding my body like lava until all reason and caution fled. Every anchor I had that kept my emotions in check was adrift today, just out to sea, so I was completely at the mercy of the frothing, raging waves. I surged up out of bed, managing to stay on my feet, and Con took one step back as I gripped his throat with my bandaged hand and shoved him against the wall. He hit it with a grunt and a wince of pain, but the fear and anger were clouding my judgement. He swallowed against my palm, and I tightened my grip as I leaned in to sneer in his face. “Don’tfuckingcall me that. I haven’t told anyone my name forfive years.” My voice was loud, too loud for how close we were, but I couldn’t stop myself as the pain of that name on his lips sliced at my chest cavity. “But I told you, and that’s who I am to you. I’m Tav. And if I’m not now that you saw me fight, then let me walk out of here with what little pride I have left.”

Con’s breath hitched, and his hands came up, hovering near my face before he dropped them to his side. His exhale wafted across my face, minty with a hint of coffee. “I’m sorry?—”

“Because this is your fault!” I shouted now, right in his face, and he didn’t stop me or push me away. “It’syourfault that I can’t sleep. That I can’t eat. That someone calling me ‘Husk’ makes me want to tear off myfuckingskin.” I raked my other hand down my chest, fingers curled into claws. The pain centered me, and only then did my energy flag. I loosened my grip on his throat, unable to take my eyes away from his reddened skin, the consequence of me losing my temper. I let my hand slip down to grasp at his shirt. I couldn’t shout anymore. My throat felt like it’d been carved with razor blades. My head pounded, and I was pretty sure I was two seconds away from my knees buckling. Needles pricked at the back of my eyes. Was I about to cry? I hadn’t cried in years. I couldn’t look at Con anymore as I said the last thing I needed the say. Because surely he’d kick me out now. “You made me remember Tav. You made me miss him. You made me want to be him again just so I could be with you.” I heaved a breath. “I wish I could hate you for that.”

My voice cracked just as the muscles in my right thigh decided to give out. I would have hit the floor on my hip if Con didn’t reach out and wrap me in his strong arms before lowering both of us to the floor. And as he shoved my face into his neck, he spoke in that confident Con voice that only held a bit of a tremor. “I’m sorry. I’ll never call you that again. I’m so sorry.” He spoke into my hair as he dropped kisses along my temple, my ear, and the side of my neck. I shook in his hold, unable to process this emotional whiplash with my bruised brain. “I’m sorry. You’re still my Tav. You’ll always be my Tav.”