Page 46 of Rage
She inches back, and I see her cheek is red. My heart stops. “Who hurt you?” I choke out.
“The fighter’s partner saw me rush outside by myself.” She looks down briefly. “She slapped me because they lost a lot of money.”
I pull her into me tighter. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” If I had known Rose was here, I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. I would have lost the fight. But for once, I wished I’d lost—I’d rather I’d lost than for her to get hit because of me. That realization sends a shiver up my spine. I love this woman.
“Sophie got there and grabbed her.” Rose’s eyes water as they roam my face. She stands on her toes and gives the tender side of my face a soft, lingering kiss. “Can we go home and put an ice pack on that?”
I blow out a breath. I look forward to getting away from this place and spending my time alone with Rose. I’m surprised she’snot angry with me. I deserve it. As Viper said, they came here to support me, and she got hurt because we’re close.
“That sounds good,” I reply, hating that she’s sad and worried about me.
Her body relaxes as I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me, and we walk toward the truck together.
FOURTEEN
ECHOES OF HURT
Rage
A loud gaspand a jolt of sudden movement rips me from my slumber. My head pounds relentlessly, each throb like a jackhammer drilling into my skull.
Rose is sitting up in bed, blinking against the dim light, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she pants, her hands gripping the blanket tightly. I push myself upright, my body heavy with sleep. I scan the room, searching for whatever might have startled her, but everything is eerily quiet. When I turn back to her, I see a wild look in her eyes, and my stomach tightens.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice thick with worry.
“I had a bad dream, that’s all,” her voice trembles.
I reach for her, to hug her, but she recoils, so I pull away. “What did you dream about?” I ask.
She shakes her head. Her lips are pressing hard against one another.
Dread lingers. “Did you dream of me hurting you?” I ask softly.
She frowns, then nods her head, and I swear my heart cracks and I’m bleeding out. My hands itch to hold her, to comfort her. “I’d never hurt you,” I say, my voice raw. I hope she hears the truth.
Tears well up in her eyes. “I know. It was just a stupid dream. I’m sure it was from seeing you fight last night. I’ll be okay.” She looks away. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad by pulling away. It’s just that the dream felt so real.”
I tug at the roots of my hair and lie back down. “The last place I wanted you to be was at the fights. The Russian and all his support people were there, and even if they weren’t, it’s not a safe place to be, especially for women.”
Rose rests her head on my chest. “I’m sorry,” she says, doing swirls on my stomach with her fingers. “I realize now that it wasn’t a good idea. Sophie said that I need to decide whether I’ll accept you fighting or not. She cares about you. I guess she doesn’t want to see you get hurt if I end up deciding I can’t accept your lifestyle.”
“Sophie needs to keep her opinions to herself,” I say.
“I can’t see Sophie doing that.”
I snort. “Yeah, me neither. Have you made a decision on whether you can handle the fights? Put up with the club?” It’s a different world here. I get it if she can’t, but just the thought of losing her makes me shudder. But with me fighting, the violence is triggering. Have I selfishly put her into another bad situation?
She’s quiet and sits up a bit to make eye contact. “How did it feel when you saw me hurt?”
A range of emotions hits me. “I felt fuckin’ terrible seeing you hurt, and I wish I hadn’t put you in that position.”
“Well... I saw you on the floor after you took that hit.” She briefly looks at my bruised face and cut lip and frowns. “I ran to you with no thought of my safety, but Viper held me back. As soon as you got up and won, I ran outside and was heaving.I was so worried and stressed about you and triggered from the amount of violence, I started to retch.”
At least Viper held her back. There’s a heavy sensation in my chest again as I consider that maybe I’m not good for her. As much as I’ve tried to change for her, the fighting is making her have nightmares. Making her physically sick by being worried. “I’m really sorry.”
She sighs. “I know you are.”
I take note that she never said whether she can handle the fights, but I don’t blame her. I’ll be torturing her every time I choose to fight. What type of person does that make me if I’m still struggling to decide if I can quit or not? I’ve made out like I’m better than her ex. I may never cheat, but I’m still putting myself first over her feelings, and that thought makes me feel like shit. She deserves better than me, and that thought is crushing me.
