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Was this our fault?
Did he hurt her because he saw the way we looked at her?
Did he know we cornered her on her way back from the bathroom?
Didwedo this?
I brush my bloody hand through her hair gently, needing more contact than I deserve right now. I never got the chance to clean up from the fight, and while I loathe the thought of that fuckers blood on my woman, I can’t drag myself away from her right now. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to.
Elias paces restlessly in front of us, his eyes flicking to her every so often to remind himself that she’s here and that she’s safe. Hurt, but safe. We haven’t spoken since she slipped into her restless slumber, wanting to give her the chance to rest before the doctor gets here.
The doctor and Crew.
I have no idea why the leader of the Legion is making a house call because he never has before. Anytime he’s loaned us one of his doctors, he just sends them our way, and we never speak about it again, but this time he’s coming, too.
“You need to sit down,” I whisper, watching Leighton’s face to make sure my words don’t startle her. It’s strange caring for someone to this degree, because I never have before. Not my ex-wife. Not any woman I’ve ever dated. No one. Except for my mother all those years ago. The woman I watched my father beat to death when I was twelve. Maybe that’s why.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t you think it might freak her out if she wakes up, and you’re pacing around here like a fucking wild animal at feeding time?”
He huffs out a sigh and collapses into the armchair Leighton was in not too long ago.
“Are you sure we can’t wash the blood off her?” I ask.
He shakes his head and moves his eyes over her body. It’s mostly covered right now by blankets and one of my shirts, but what lies beneath will be imprinted on my soul for the rest of my fucking life. The cuts. The bruises. The brutality she faced. I’m fucking scarred from it, and that fucker never even touched me. “Crew said we should wait.” He sighs and presses his eyes closed. “He also said we should think about getting some photos of her injuries, in case we need them down the road.”
“No,” I growl, my hand pausing in her hair.
“I know. I said that, too. But then he asked what the fuck we’re going to do when the police commissioner comes knocking on our doorstep demanding we give his daughter back. Or when the fucking governor of New York starts poking around. If we can prove what Jason did to her, then we have leverage.”
I look down at Leighton. The bruises on her jaw are deepening, the cut on her hairline still weeping with blood. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to be beaten by that asshole. How can I agree to have documented proof that this ever happened? And how can we ask that of her?
“I know, Wy. Believe me, it makes me fucking sick to think about it, but I think he’s right. The police rarely poke around in our business because of our direct association with the Legion, but do you think Jason is just going to let this go? Do you think her mother is going to allow her daughter to embarrass the family by slumming it with the likes of us?”
I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. We need leverage. We need a reason to keep her with us, and we need to be able to keep her away from Jason at all costs. It seems a small price to pay to ensure her safety. “Okay,” I concede.
“We need to ask Leighton. I won’t do it without her permission, but I think it’s the right thing to do.”
I brush my fingers over the bruise on her cheek, noticing how hard the area feels compared to earlier tonight when we had her trapped between us. “Is this our fault?”
Elias is quiet for long moments, so long that I start to question whether I spoke or just thought about the worry that’s been playing in my mind.
“Do I think his act of violence tonight is a direct result of our presence? Yes. I think he saw how we looked at her, and how she avoided looking at us, and put two and two together. But do I think this is the first time he’s hurt her? Do I think that if we hadn’t been there tonight that he would never lay hands on her again? No. Men like that hit women to feel strong, to feel superior, and that pissant would constantly feel like he’s in his father’s shadow. Hitting Leighton is his chance to taste that power.”
I’m well aware of the reasons men hit women, but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow to think that we did this. She was hurt as a direct result of our actions.
Before I can voice the thought to Elias, there’s a light knock at the door.
Leighton startles awake, her eyes wide and afraid as she looks around the space with panic. I think she’s going to be jumpy for a while, but I’ll do anything to make her feel at peace again.
CHAPTERFORTY
LEIGHTON
My eyes flick open at the sound of knocking.
Where am I?
