Both arms went around her then, lightly, vaguely remembering her saying her ribs hurt, and I had no idea which side. Better safe than sorry.
"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, but I knew she wasn't looking for an answer, so I stayed quiet. "I want to go to the police. I want to report this. He shouldn't get away with this. If I don't report it, I feel like I would be responsible for any other woman this happens to after me, you know? I had the power to stop him and I chose not to and someone else could suffer for that. But... if I lock him up, what happens to my store? I mean, I know the next owner has to do that thing where they honor the lease until it's done, but after that? If they want me out? I have no way to get another lease. Ethan was just honoring it even though he shouldn't have because, I don't know, I guess because he wanted to take advantage of my weaker position in our relationship."
She paused there and, figuring she was looking for a response, I gave a rumbling noise. Because I didn't want to lie to her. I knew that in all of six or so hours, she wouldn't have to fucking worry about dickhead Ethan anymore, but I didn't want her to know that. I didn't want to freak her out.
And, maybe even more so, I guess I maybe didn't want her to think of me differently because of what I knew I had to do.
She would find out eventually, but that would be after all was done. I would just have to steel myself for her response. Whatever it was.
"You can sleep on it," I suggested when she still didn't go on. "Those tapes aren't going anywhere. You'll still be bruised in the morning. I know a few of the cops on the force who are good guys and will listen."
"It is late," she agreed, snuggling in further and I knew I was going to get what I needed. She was going to let me get her to sleep and then I could exact vengeance and deal with the consequences after.
We stayed there silently until the water ran cold, both drying off. When she went to slip into Cy's shirt, I yanked it away. Maybe a part of it was something I had never experienced before- jealousy. I didn't want her in another man's shirt. The other part, though, liked the idea of having nothing between us in the bed. I didn't plan on anything happening, but if I was being honest, I had apparently been wrong about the spooning thing.
It ended up being pretty fucking nice.
I ran my fingers over her ribs, a smattering of purple there, not the red that would indicate she had done any real damage. They would hurt a bit for a couple of days, maybe less depending on how easily she bruised.
"Come on," I said, pulling her into the bedroom and letting her slip into the sheets. I got in too, watching as she moved to do the sheet up to her neck thing like she had done at my house. "I don't think so," I said, pushing her gently until she turned onto her side, automatically curling her legs up. I slid in behind her, cocking my legs up under hers, sliding my one arm under her pillow. The other went across her center. And, feeling like maybe the mood needed to lighten just slightly, I slid my hand upward. "Just one more thing," I said right before my hand cupped her tit.
And I got what I needed, what she needed too, a real, genuine laugh that rolled through her and into me, making my lips curl up.
"You're ridiculous," she accused, but there was a smile in her voice.
"Yep," I agreed, brushing her hair out of the way with the side of my face, not caring if I scratched more beard burn there, and kissing the side of her temple. "Get some sleep, pet. We'll talk in the morning."
It didn't take long, surprisingly.
I guess maybe the stress got to her.
All of half an hour later, she was out cold.
I held her a while longer for reasons I was choosing not to analyze, then I slowly slid out and redressed before heading out into the common room where most of the men were still situated.
"Time to fuck that bastard up," I said, heading toward the door, knowing at least one or two of them would follow me. Edison at least.
Not that I needed backup.
I was primed enough to handle this shit all on my fucking own.
That bastard was going to pay for putting his hands on what was mine.
I was so in the rage zone that I didn't even stop to think how fucking crazy it was to think of Kennedy as mine in the first place.