not entirely sure how it happened, but I tackled him. He went down, and his leg snapped.” His lids flickered a little. “Ugly sound, you know. Hearing a bone break.”
“What room is he in?” she asked. “I’ll go break another bone so I can hear.”
“Bloodthirsty . . .”
He yawned and sat up, blinking a little as he looked around. Then he focused on her. “Abby?”
Frowning, she moved to the side of the bed and laid her hand on his cheek. “Zach, baby . . . are you okay?”
He slid an arm around her waist and smiled at her. It was a slightly loopy smile, she decided. No. Very loopy. “They gave you something for the pain, didn’t they?” Zach couldn’t take anything much stronger than Benadryl without it hitting him like a fifth of whiskey.
He pressed his face against her belly and nodded. “Ribs hurt. Nothing’s broke, but it hurts.”
Smiling a little, she brushed his hair back from his face. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m here.”
He hooked his arm around her waist and held her tighter. “You’re here ’cause I need you,” he muttered, rubbing his lips over her and even through her t-shirt, she felt that teasing caress. “I want to get the fuck out of here.”
She didn’t really hear much of anything else he said.
You’re here ’cause I need you.
Bending over him, she closed her eyes and wondered just how much. How much did he need her . . . and was it because he needed the damn ride? Because they were friends?
Or was it more?
She really, really hoped it was more.
* * *
He woke in pain.
Pain every fucking where. His lip throbbed, his hands throbbed, every muscle in his body ached, and when he went to roll to a sitting position, his ribs screamed at him.
Fortunately, Abby wasn’t in there, so he didn’t have to worry about the fact that he might have almost whimpered a little as he made his way over to her bathroom. Bright morning light shone through the frosted glass window and he had an unrestricted view of his battered face.
Left eye was black and blue, with the bruising spreading down over his cheek.
Mouth was busted. Tats covered much of his chest but they ended just below his pecs and he could see the vivid bursts of bruises forming there. The jerks had whaled on him hard and the one time they’d managed to get him down, they’d kicked the hell out of him, too. He’d kicked the legs out from under one of them and used that brief second to get back to his feet and that was when he’d lunged for the other one.
Not more than a couple of minutes had passed before the cops arrived to check out the alarm he’d sounded, but one of them had taken off.
Whether or not they found that guy would depend on if the punk they’d arrested last night decided to talk. Regardless, Zach had every damn intention of pressing charges. This was the third time somebody had decided to break into his place and he’d been in there last night.
His gut twisted a little as he thought about everything that could have gone wrong.
Javi or Keelie could have been in there.
Abby could have been there with him.
“Stop it, man.” He turned away from his battered reflection. That what if game was a bad, bad thing to get started. Blanking his mind, he hooked his thumbs in the gray boxer briefs he wore and went to shove them down, but even that had him almost doubled over as his ribs screamed at him.
“Need some help?”
He shot Abby a dark look as she came into the bathroom. She wore a pale green chemise with skinny straps that just barely skimmed her hips and her dark red curls were still tousled. He wanted to bury his face against her neck and just stay there. For about forever.
Instead, he looked away. “I can handle the damn shower.”
“Cranky.”
He glared at her. “A couple of assholes broke into my shop, I get the shit beaten out of me, and there’s not an inch of me that doesn’t hurt. Yeah, I’m cranky.” Then, as she arched a brow at him, he groaned and looked away. “Sorry. Just . . . I need a shower and I’ll find some Motrin and . . .”
She sauntered inside, moved around him to open the cabinet just beyond his shoulder. She pulled out a bottle and popped the cap. She shook out