Shane (Damage Control 4)

And my resolutions about pulling back and my doubts—they just fall to dust, because something’s wrong.

It’s dark inside the apartment and cold, as if nobody has bothered to turn on the heater all day. Something bright in a heap on the floor catches my eye.

Shane’s reflective vest, the one he wears at work. A small puddle has formed around it.

I step past it in my high heels, smoothing down my short, black coat over my mini dress. My long earrings tickle my jaw as I lean on the doorjamb to Shane’s bedroom, trying to see in the gloom.

Nothing is moving inside.

“Shane?” I turn around, frown. “Is anyone home?”

Then I hear a pipe creaking, and the faint sound of water running, and for some reason, the bad feeling worsens.

When I try the bathroom door, it opens soundlessly. “Hello?”

He’s on the floor, crouched in a corner of the shower, naked, long hair in his face. The water is running, and he’s wet and shivering, keeping just out of the spray.

Heart in my throat, I kick off my shoes and step inside to crouch in front of him. “God, Shane. What happened?”

He lifts his head slowly, and my fears are confirmed.

He doesn’t see me. His gaze passes over me, locks on something over my head, and he tries to press back into the tiles, his face white as a sheet.

And oh shit, this is worse than I thought. A bruise spreads over one side of his face, he has dried blood on his lips, and now I see more dark bruising over his ribs and one arm.

Jesus.

Reaching up, I turn off the shower, and as quiet descends, I wonder what the hell to do. Was it ever so bad before? Should I call Seth this time? Not sure how to handle this. How to make sure he’s okay.

But Seth and Manon are either on the way to the wedding, or already there. If I call, I’ll bring them back, cause them to miss the wedding. Disrupt everyone’s evening, an important event in the life of the brotherhood—but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if it’s to help Shane.

Unless I can help him snap out of it, find out what sent him back into the black hole of his past.

“Shane. Listen to me. You’re at home. You’re okay.” My voice breaks, because all I want is to hug him but I don’t dare touch him yet. “You’re in your apartment. It’s just me and you.”

He knocks his head back, and I wince at the thud. “Please, don’t.”

“It’s me, Cassie.” My hand hovers over his forearm. “Remember? We’re going to Zane’s wedding today. I came to pick you up. Told you to wear something nice. You said I should come up and check—” I swallow hard. “Shane. Use the pendant I gave you.”

I’m not sure he can hear me—but then his hand creeps up to his throat, wraps around the star pendant. His nails are dark with dirt and blue with cold, his knuckles scraped bloody.

What in the world happened to him?

I start when he reaches for me and grabs my hand. “Cass.”

“Yeah.” My pulse kicks in my ears as I kneel in the cold puddle of water, let him squeeze my hand until my bones creak. “You’re hurt. Let me have a look. Please.”

“It’s nothing,” he says, but his voice is hoarse and barely audible.

“Did someone hit you?”

He glances around him, e

yes widening, though he tries to hide it. Hide that he’s seeing his surroundings for the first time. “No… Not sure.” He swallows, licks the blood from his lips and clutches the pendant harder. “I fell.”

“At the construction site? Who brought you home?”

He’s still squeezing the hell out of my hand, his eyes tracking something I can’t see. “I took the bus.”