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She takes in his size, his cut, the tattoos, the bloody knuckles.

Then her eyes find the bruises on my arm.

“Oh, honey.”

“I’m okay.”

Striker makes a low sound behind me.

I turn. “I heard that.”

“Wasn’t hiding it.”

Ruth’s mouth tightens. “Who did that?”

“Nobody did anything. They grabbed me.”

Thomas takes another step closer. “They?”

“Three men,” Striker supplies.

I glare at him. “Traitor.”

“One woman against three men?” Ruth asks.

“I had it under control.”

Striker looks at me.

I point at him. “Choose your next words carefully.”

He actually considers it.

“You were doing great.”

I narrow my eyes.

“Right up until one of them had both your arms.”

Thomas hides a laugh behind his hand.

“I liked you better when you were quiet,” I tell Striker.

“No, you didn’t.”

Heat crawls up my neck.

Ruth notices.

Of course she does.

Thomas turns toward him. “So you handled them?”

“Yeah.”

“All three?”

“Yeah.”