Flawed Heart: House Of Obsidian - Bella Jewel Page 0,43
and gauze to cover his wounds. It’s not Max, and as my vision gets clearer, I realize it’s Raide. The man Max was fighting. I go to sit up, fury washing through me, but he takes my shoulders gently and pushes them down.
“Don’t sit up that fast, you’ll hurt yourself.”
I open my mouth to demand he lets me go, but he gets in before me.
“Don’t be pissed at me. It was a fair fight, and he gave it as hard as he got it. I’m not here to hurt you; I’m watching you while Max gets patched up. Now calm down and don’t put up a fuss. You got hit pretty hard out there.”
“Is he . . .” I swallow, “okay?”
Raide grins, and gosh he’s good looking. “He’s fine. Max is a warrior.”
“I hope you sleep in a lot of pain tonight,” I grunt at him.
He chuckles. “Fair call. Now come on, sit up slowly.”
He helps me up, and I’m forced to hold his wrists for balance. My head is pounding. I release one wrist and reach up, rubbing a tender spot near my temple. “Ouch,” I mutter.
“You got hit good. Sent your man in there into a tizzy.”
“Max?” I say, my eyes scanning the room. We’re in a locker room, and it seems it’s just the two of us.
“Yeah, he got up and leapt out of that fucking ring like a raging bull. He put blood everywhere.”
“Oh,” I say.
“You got elbowed in the temple, so we need to keep an eye on you.”
“Wait,” I say, letting him go fully now. “Why are you in here looking after me?”
He shrugs. “I know Max. He’s helping me out. He asked me to watch you.”
I study his face. Gosh he’s beautiful—well, in a rugged kind of way. He has these amber eyes, that most intense, incredible color. His hair is dark, his skin is olive, and he’s got a few imperfections on his face, like a slightly crooked nose, but they only add to the flawed perfection that he is.
“I’ve never heard him mention you.”
He flashes a grin. “That’s because I don’t get mentioned.”
“What are you?” I groan, shifting. “A criminal or something?”
He runs a hand through his hair, and reaches down for the first-aid kit beside the bench I was laying on. “You could say that.”
I blink. “Dude, I was kidding.”
He studies my face. “I wasn’t.”
Right.
“Okay, I don’t want to know. You’re friends with Max, yet the two of you nearly killed each other out there, and now you’re saying you’re a mysterious criminal.”
He chuckles and lifts an alcohol wipe. “Max and I knew what we were doing. It would have never ended with death, and I’m not a bad criminal.”
“Aren’t all criminals bad?”
His eyes flash. “Do you truly believe that statement?”
I sigh. “No,” I mutter.
“Exactly. Now, sit still so I can wipe that little cut you’ve got above your eyebrow. Must have split the skin.”
He moves forward and starts wiping the wound. It stings and I grit my teeth, but suddenly find myself staring at his chest, feeling nervous.
“So, ah,” I say, trying to look away, but he’s just too big and right in my line of sight, “are you friends with Max so he can help you?”
“I’ve known Max a while, but yeah, right now he’s helping me. Max knows a lot of people. People I need to find.”
“I don’t even want to know,” I grumble. “And what was the fight all about then?”
He shrugs. “It’s always fun getting in the ring with him.”
“You put yourself in a ring to get beaten up, for fun?” I gasp.
“It’s a great stress-relief.”
“You’ve got issues.”
He laughs, throaty and deep. “I’m not denying that.”
He leans back and studies his handiwork, then cleans up the mess and stands. “You want some water?”
“Yes please,” I croak.
He goes over to the cooler and pours me a foam cup full, bringing it back. I sip it and he sits beside me, waiting . . . for what I don’t know? Maybe he’s waiting for Max to return.
“When will Max come back?”
“Once they’ve finished his face.”
I study his bruising, battered face. “Who did yours?”
“Max.”
I shake my head. “Right. Crazy.”
“So, you and him . . . you’re married.”
“We were,” I groan, shifting my aching body. Being thrown around a crowd of crazy people does not feel nice. “Well, we still are, but we’re not together.”
“That’s a fuckin’ shame. The man looks at you like you’re the reason he’s still living.”
I flinch. “I think you’re seeing it wrong.”
“No, lady, you