Page 138 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

Calisto held her out away from him a bit, just enoughthat he could look her over. His dark eyes raked over her form, and he wipedthe tears from her face with his bruised, cut hands.

Emma blinked.

“What happened to your hands?”

Calisto pulled them away from her face, dropping themdown to his sides like he wanted to hide them. It was too late. Emma hadalready seen the swollen damage.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

Too quickly.

“Give me your hands,” she demanded.

When he didn’t do as she asked, Emma grabbed his rightwrist and pulled his hand up to look at it in the light from the bathroom. Shesucked in a hard breath at the sight of his injured hand. His knuckles wereswollen, cut on each one, and an angry red. His pinky was slightly off to theside, and it didn’t look right.

“It’s broken, I think,” Calisto grumbled.

“Oh, my God.”

“Doesn’t hurt a lot.”

“How can it not hurt?” Emma asked, staring up at him.

“I took a Vicodin and washed it back with some vodka.”

Jesus.

Emma’s fingers ghosted over Calisto’s knuckles again.She dropped his hand, and grabbed his other. It was in the same condition,minus the broken pinky finger.

“Here, I’ll get you to hold onto this for me,” Calistosaid.

Emma waited as he dug in his pants pocket and pulledout something that was hidden in his fist. Turning his hand over, Calistoopened his palm to showcase the golden ruby ring that he always wore on hispinky.

“I won’t be able to put it on for a while,” heexplained. “And if they were to cut it off at the hospital when I go in, Iwould have a fucking fit.”

Emma plucked the ring from his hand, her palm closingtightly around it to keep it safe. “I’ll hold onto it. Now, tell me whathappened.”

Calisto spun on his heel and stalked back into thebathroom. Emma followed right behind. She waited him out as he turned the wateron and stuck his hands underneath with a hiss. The water turned pink whenCalisto clenched his hands into fists, and his cuts opened up all over again.Blood washed down the drain.

In the light, she finally got a good look at him.

Blood was splattered up his white dress shirt. He hadthe same red dots all over his neck, jaw, and face. His arms were stained withblood right up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he had run a bloody handthrough it.

On the counter, a cigarette burned and smoke curledupward in spirals.

Calisto plucked it up and stuck it between his bloodylips and took a drag.

Emma’s chest tightened.

He was bloodied, dark as hell, and quiet standingthere.

It made her stomach twist—it wasn’t a bad thing.

What had happened to make him come home like this?

“Calisto?” Emma asked.

He pulled another item from his pocket, and handed itover. Emma unfurled the crumpled piece of paper, and pain sliced through herheart at the face on the page. Her attacker looked exactly the same in thepicture, right down to the scar beneath his eye.