With a finger to her chin, he guided her eyes to his. Once they connected, she took in a big rush of air, held it for a few seconds, and released it on a shaky exhale. It was like watching a fighter come to after getting knocked out—for a few brief moments, he’s dazed and confused. Then reality sets in and he realizes what happened in those last seconds.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “What have I done?”
“You punched a bastard who deserved it.”
She glanced down at her hand, knuckles red and starting to swell, and trembled. “But I d-don’t— I—”
He grabbed her face in his hands and forced her to look into his eyes. “Baby, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. That guy’s a fucking asshole with no respect for women, who said something I wouldn’t say to my worst enemy.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “He’s a fighter; he’s used to getting hit. What’s really going to hurt in the morning is his ego when the guys find out a female civilian is the one who busted his face.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “It might be worth showing up for training in the morning just to watch him shrink like a violet when you walk through the door.”
A laugh escaped her lips. It was weak, but he’d take it. Anything other than that look of fear and shame in her beautiful eyes. Tucking her into his side, he led her away from the crowd to where he’d parked his Jeep.
She was quiet on the drive, staring up at the night sky as though contemplating the stars in the universe. But he knew her better than that by now. She was trying to wrap her mind around what happened. Trying to rationalize her actions and probably holding them up against her rules or even creating new ones as a result. Either way, he left her to it. She hadn’t completely closed off from him as she allowed him to hold her uninjured hand, so he was content with that much for now.
As soon as he got her into their bungalow, he directed her to sit on the couch while going to the kitchen for the first-aid kit under the sink. He grabbed the ice pack, broke the seal, and shook the contents on his way over to his gym bag, where he grabbed one of his blue hand wraps. “Apparently they should call you Red Viper in and out of the courtroom. That jab was lightning fast, woman. Remind me to never piss you off.”
Sitting next to her, he picked up her injured hand and slowly helped her to straighten her fingers. She hissed in a quick breath then stole a glance at him through her lashes as a slight flush tinged her pale cheeks. He hated that she felt she couldn’t show any weakness around him. It made it damn hard for a man to take care of a woman who kept trying to prove she didn’t need him.
He carefully checked her range of motion and strength while she gritted her teeth against the pain. When his inspection was done, he gingerly set the ice pack on her bruised knuckles and began securing it with the wrap.
“You’re lucky,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I don’t think anything is broken, but it’ll be sore as hell for a while. The good news is it’ll turn a different shade every day for about a week, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to color coordinate your accessories or handbags or whatever you girls do.”
She started to laugh, but it got off with a wince that she then tried pawning off as a blink.
“You know, it’s okay to show me that it hurts,” he said. “You don’t always have to be so strong.”
Exhaling and letting her shoulders relax, she trained her eyes on her hand, focusing on his movements as he wrapped it. “It’s just… I’ve never…” She shook her head. Either she was unable to put her thoughts into words or couldn’t bring herself to say them aloud.
“I know.” After securing the Velcro, he rested his elbow on the back of the couch and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I get it. You never wanted the violence that touched you as a kid to be a part of your life as an adult. But, V, just because you punched some asshole doesn’t mean you are a violent person.”
She made a sound that said she clearly didn’t agree. “Just a person with violent tendencies, right?”
He stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“I don’t feel like going for a walk.”
“Sand between your toes and the ocean breeze on your skin will do you some good. You’ll feel better afterward, I promise.” Her eyes moved to the bedroom, clearly wanting to bury herself and her worries with the promise of sleep. But she needed to stop burying her past behind her rules. She needed to deal with it. At least a little. “Come on, Red, don’t leave me hangin’.”
Vanessa let out a resigned sigh and gave him her left hand to help pull her up. He offered a smile, which she weakly returned, then he led her out of the bungalow to the edge of the water.
He intertwined their fingers as they walked in silence, the warm saltwater rushing over their feet to stretch over the sand before it was forced to retreat and try again. The waning moon hung high in the dark void above them, lighting their way along the beach.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“You managed to restrain yourself tonight, and I ended up losing control.”