ever yelled at her since we’ve been together. A tear slides down her cheek, and she uncrosses her arms, swiping at it angrily.
“There is nothing going on with Travis, you asshole! Isn’t it obvious how I feel about you? Jesus, Roman. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’ve just needed—”
I’m not processing any of her words. My gaze is honed in on her arm. Something intense seizes in my gut, churning violently. I feel it crawl into my chest, and I feel it squeeze my heart and lungs in a vise.
“What the fuck is that?”
She freezes, and when she follows the trajectory of my gaze, her mouth snaps shut, and I swear I see all the color drain from her face. Ignoring the pain that’s suddenly a living, breathing thing in my chest, I cross the room and reach out for her arm. When she flinches, I grit my back teeth together so hard, I swear I hear a crack.
She must realize she flinches, because she shakes her head, more tears falling. Her eyes glimmer with apologies, and her bottom lip trembles.
“I’m sorry. So sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t mean to do that.” My brows dip into a frown that feels like it embeds itself permanently on my face. “What happened to your arm?”
She glances down at her arm and holds it out between us. My jaw clenches with anger, and my nostrils flare. The bruise is clearly in the shape of a hand, which means someone grabbed her. Someone touched my girl.
Olivia continues staring down, and I can tell she’s trying to work through possible answers to the question, anything but the truth.
“Olivia.” The warning note in my tone is clear.
“It was Travis.” She whispers so low, I’m not sure I heard her correctly, but when she looks up at me, and I see the pain in her eyes, I know I heard her just fine.
“When did this happen?” I’m teetering on the edge of violence. So close to losing my shit. She must sense it because she stays silent. The way she’s been acting, her avoidance, it suddenly makes sense.
“The other night, when you said you were sick. That’s when it happened, didn’t it?” Her chin quivers, and I know I’m right. “That son of a bitch. I’m going to fucking kill him,” I growl, spinning on my heels.
“Roman, no!” Her hands clamp around my arm, and she tugs, trying to keep me still. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You can’t—”
“How the fuck could you keep this from me? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of you and Ryder! Or did you forget about him in your sudden bout of anger?” she challenges.
I grit my teeth. “Don’t do that. I always think about him. He’s the only fucking thing I care about.”
I regret the words, as soon as I say them.
She flinches but recovers quickly. “I’m handling it. That was why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to do something stupid.”
“How are you handling it? Please, enlighten me, because the fact that this fucker is even still breathing is unacceptable.”
“You can’t resort to violence for everything, Roman. This is my problem.”
“Like hell it is!” I snap. “He touched what is mine, and he’s going to fucking pay for it.”
Her eyes narrow, some color climbing back into her cheeks from how loud we’re yelling. “Yours? I’m not your property, Roman. I am my own person.”
“You’re mine, Olivia. Whether you fucking like it or not. And I don’t take kindly to people touching what’s mine.”
Her lips thin into a grim line. “Get out.”
I laugh. “You got another thing coming if you think I’m leaving, sweetheart.”
“You’re being an asshole right now.”
I step into her, sliding my hand around her slender neck, and I tug her into me roughly. She lets out a squeak of surprise but doesn’t fight me. “What else is new, babe? This is me. Fucking deal with it. Now, you’re going to tell me the story, the whole goddamn story of how that happened,” I say, jerking my chin toward her wrist. “No more of this bullshit distance.”
Her gaze narrows. “You can’t just order me around, dickhead. I want to be alone.”
My lips twist into a smirk. “Too bad. You either talk now, or you talk at my place. The choice is yours.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve cooled off.”