Page 81 of Heartless Sinner

One eye was swollen shut. The other wasn’t far behind.

My pulse stumbled. “What the⁠—”

Cedric slammed the door and left before I could finish.

I hopped off the bed and hurried over to Brooks. He was curled halfway into the fetal position.

“Up.” I nudged him with my shoe. “You’re going to get blood all over my rug!”

He squinted up at me through his one somewhat-good eye. “That’s your main concern?” he rasped.

“Yes. My rug has never thrown me off a yacht. You have. It has priority over you.”

He swiped two fingers over his cheek, then held them up. “See? All dried blood.”

I crouched for a better look. His black clothes were soaked in blood too. It’d just been harder to see from across the room.

“Still …” I waved toward him. “Your blood is literally everywhere.”

He groaned as he pushed himself upright, one arm wrapped around his ribs. “Do me a favor and help me out of the bloody clothes then.”

“Ugh.” I grabbed his elbow and hauled him up with an exaggerated groan. “You’re so ruining my night right now.”

He wobbled as he steadied himself, and I dragged him toward the bathroom. His boots left bloody smears across the tiled floor. I sat him on the closed toilet seat.

Once I was sure he wouldn’t tip over, I grabbed a washcloth.

“Who did the world a favor and beat the shit out of you?” I grabbed the bottom of his hoodie and peeled it over his head. “I need to buy them lunch tomorrow.”

“Not now, Daph,” he grunted, pressing his tongue carefully against his split lip before hissing.

I almost mentioned how lucky he was that I was helping him after his two homicide attempts on me in Calira.

But he’d called me Daph.

Not his princess taunt.

Not one of his usual insults.

Daph.

Damn him.

Neither of us spoke as I pulled off his shirt. My stomach turned at the bruises already purpling. They were everywhere. One stretched under his ribs like someone had taken a baseball bat to him. Another disappeared around his side. I was surprised he could move at all.

His breathing turned ragged as I knelt, tugged off his boots, and tossed them aside. I was wearing only pajama shorts, and the cold tiles stung my bare knees.

He dropped his head forward. “My head. My body. Everything fucking hurts.”

“What’d you do?” I pulled off his socks.

He stared at the ceiling instead of answering.

“I’m over here, cleaning you up. The least you can do is tell me why.”

“I finally got to beat the shit out of Cory.” His answer caught me off guard.

“Who won?”