He looked like dog meat. His face was bloody and bruised. One eye was already swollen shut. There was a cut on his ear and a gash in his head.
Trent’s lip was busted and his teeth were stained red. I could tell by the way he favored his side and breathed shallow breaths his ribs were probably broken. Or maybe just cracked.
Like one was better than the other.
I wasn’t sure where else he was hurt, but I knew he was in places I couldn’t see.
The helplessness I felt when my headlights bounced over a stumbling man in the parking lot just minutes ago washed over me all over again. The way his legs just buckled and he sat there supported by his car.
Alone in the dark. Bleeding.
If that hadn’t been bad enough… I realized it was Trent.
It made me sick inside.
The absolute panic that gripped my chest to see such a strong, capable guy down like that ripped me open. It was an image I would never be able to erase from my mind.
It would haunt me forever.
At first, he seemed disoriented, making me worry he might have a concussion. Or maybe it was just the pain.
Clearly, he was jumped and taken by surprise. There was no other explanation. Trent wouldn’t lose like this in a fair fight.
When he told me he wanted to go home, his words were like a jagged knife to my gut. I worried he needed the kind of medical attention I wasn’t able to give, but how could I argue with such a heartbreaking request?
I was hoping he looked worse than he was because of all the blood.
The gash along his hairline was probably responsible for most of the blood. Head wounds bled excessively. Maybe once he was cleaned up, he wouldn’t look so bad.
That was a lie.
It wouldn’t matter how much better Trent looked when he was clean. Seeing him in pain at all was worse than taking an actual beating myself.
If only I had been there.
“Braeden!” Ivy yelled and disappeared from the top of the stairs.
“C’mon, frat boy,” I said gently and turned us toward the living room.
“I’m not one of them,” he ground out. “Never again.”
The muscles in my jaw clenched so forcefully I heard them grind. Omega did this to him?
Probably that little pecker Conner. He should know not to start wars he couldn’t win.
“Here.” I unlocked my jaw and tried to speak without malice. As pissed as I was, this was not about them right now. It was only about Trent. “Sit down. Easy.”
I used both my arms and wrapped them around his waist to guide him down so he wouldn’t jar his injuries too bad. When he reclined against the cushions, a breath hissed from between his teeth.
“Damn, T,” I said, taking his chin in my hand and staring at the damage. “How bad are you hurting?”
“Not so bad when you touch me.” He smiled.
Well, I thought he did. Half his lip was too swollen to turn up.
Yet he still smiled at me.
“I love you.” The words tumbled out, faster than I’d ever driven a car.
His eyes flared, even the one swollen side opened wide enough for me to see the surprise.
“I really fucking do.” I admitted, my voice low, just for us.
“You’re better than any hospital would ever be, Forrester.” His hand lifted and grasped the front of my shirt. He started to say something else, but Braeden pounded down the stairs and rushed into the room and around the couch.
I released Trent’s chin and moved back just enough so B could feast his eyes on the mess.
“Oh, hells no!” Braeden roared. His fists clenched and he paced a little in front of the coffee table. “Who did this?” he demanded, harsh.
Ivy raced into the room, carrying a large white box with a red cross on the front. “Here! I got this.” At the side of the table, her feet stopped like she stepped in glue, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Trent.”
“I’m okay,” he vowed. “I’ve taken harder hits on the field.”
Ivy sniffled and tried to swallow back her tears. She didn’t do a very good job, but I couldn’t blame her. I teared up looking at him the first time, too.
“We got a family situation,” Braeden growled into the phone pressed to his ear. I knew he had to be talking to Romeo. “You better get your ass here.”
“I just need a Band-Aid,” Trent said. His tongue seemed thick, because his words were slightly slurred.
Ivy set the kit on the table, flung open the lid, and scrounged around. She came up with a dark-brown bottle with a white cap and a clean white cloth. “Let’s clean you up.” She rushed around the table toward him and reached out.
“Don’t touch him,” I snarled and moved forward to block her.
“Whoa.” Braeden cut in and swiftly pulled Ivy back so he could squeeze in front of her. “We got a problem?”
“I’m sorry, Ives.” I was immediately contrite. “I’m just tense. Finding my… best friend lying in a parking lot—”
“Don’t apologize,” she said and stepped around B to extend the supplies. “Here.”
I took them because even though I felt bad for snapping at her, I still didn’t want anyone else to clean up T.
“I’ll get some ice and pain relievers,” she said and went quickly from the room.