Dirty, Reckless Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 3)

When I do, it’s on wobbly legs that can barely hold me. I slide my phone back into my pocket, grip my keys in my hand, and start walking.

Levi

The loud rap on the front door of Jackson Brews makes me roll my eyes. “We’re closed!” I shout.

In a quiet town like Jackson Harbor, we don’t typically have people begging to be let in after last call, but when they do, they’re always trashed, and the last thing they need is another drink.

The knock comes again. Louder this time.

I curse, drop my mop, and spin to the door. “I said we’re . . .”

Ellie’s standing in the rain with her hand pressed against the glass. She’s soaking wet. I run to the door, flip the bolt, and pull it open.

From the light of the streetlamp, I can see blood streaming down the side of her face. “What happened?” I scan the street behind her for her car or Colton or any clue as to why she might be at my brother’s bar in the middle of the night, soaked through and bloody.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re closed. I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, don’t apologize.” I take her by the wrist and pull her inside, then close and lock the door behind her. “What happened? Are you okay?” I step closer and wipe the blood from her cheek.

Her eyes go wide, and she stares at the blood on my hand. “I fell.”

“You fell?”

She nods, and I force myself to take a deep breath. I want answers and I want them now, but she’s got that deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes, and I know she needs my patience more than the protective rage rising in my chest. If Colton hurt her, I fucking swear I’ll go after him so hard he’ll never be able to do it again.

“Come on. Let’s clean you up.” I take her hand and turn toward the kitchen, but I hesitate for a beat when she threads her fingers through mine. The gesture is nothing and everything. It’s instinct, and it means she trusts me. She needs me.

I push away the pinch in my chest and lead her back to the kitchen, positioning her on a stool by the long stainless-steel counter. Here, the fluorescent lights are burning bright and I can slowly take her in, survey the damage. The blood looked worse in the low light out front, but in here, I can see it’s all coming from a small cut on her forehead. There’s an abrasion on her cheek and her elbow, and she’s shaking—probably because she’s soaked from head to toe.

“Where does it hurt?” I ask softly.

Her wide eyes fill with tears. “Everywhere,” she whispers. “I thought he loved me.” Tears slip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks, mingling with the smears of blood.

“Colton did this?” Tension shoots up my spine, and my fists clench at my sides. “He hurt you?”

Ellie blinks at me, as if trying to understand my anger. She touches her cheek, wincing when her fingers skim over the wound. “I’m stupid. I fell.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“I back-pedaled down a set of stairs and landed on the sidewalk.”

The anger boiling my blood cools a notch and I nod, reaching for Jake’s chef’s coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. I find the first-aid kit and pull out some sterile cleansing pads for her face. “Explain, please.”

“Colt said he was going to meet Grant for a drink, and he left.”

I frown. “Grant Watson? He’s in Cincinnati this weekend.”

“It was a lie, obviously.” She lifts her chin, her brave face making me want to throw a punch at Colton all over again. “I woke up a couple of hours later and he still wasn’t home. He wasn’t replying to my texts, so I went looking for him.”

“This might sting.” I carefully lift the cloth to her face, and she hisses when it touches her cheek. “Sorry.”

?

??He was at the Tiffany Hotel.”

Frowning, I pull the cloth away. “Why?”

“With Molly. I saw them through the window.”