my ass into the shower on day three, I was feeling a hell of a lot better, even if I didn't look it.
Actually, I really didn't look it. My face was a mess of purple and yellow bruising, and my ribs made me cringe just to look at. No amount of concealer was going to hide the state I was in, though, so I just tied my hair up—careful not to tug on my healing head wound—then headed downstairs to find the guys.
"Hellcat!" Steele was the first to notice me enter the kitchen. "What are you doing out of bed?"
I gave a small shrug. "I slept for the better part of three days; I got bored. And hungry. Is that pizza I smell?"
"It sure is," Anna replied, pulling a fresh one from the oven and sliding it onto her chopping board. "But girl, you look a mess. Have you put any bruise balm on that face?"
I blinked at her in confusion. "That's a thing?"
The look of utter exasperation that she gave the boys over that comment was priceless.
"Unbelievable," the cook muttered. "Just because you three think bruises make you look cool, doesn't mean you should let Madison Kate suffer. Goodness me. Wait here, sweetheart." She patted me on the shoulder and hurried out of the kitchen, leaving the fresh pizza uncut on her board.
I wrinkled my nose at the guys in confusion, then winced as it moved my bruises. Yeah, if she had something to help, then I was all for it.
"Come here, babe." Kody reached out his hand to me. When I took it, he pulled me—carefully—into his lap rather than onto the empty bar stool beside him. He kissed my slightly less-bruised cheek and gave me a light squeeze. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got beaten the hell up," I replied with a snort of laughter, "but actually a shitload better than I was. What time is it, anyway?" I had no idea where my phone was and hadn't even tried looking for it.
"Dinnertime," Steele told me, grinning wide as he cut the pizza up in Anna's absence. He had flour streaked over his face and an apron tied around his neck, so I had to assume he'd been assisting.
Anna came back in carrying a little purple tub of cream and instructed Kody to spread it all over my bruises. He did as he was told, smoothing the peppermint-scented cream over my face with gentle fingers.
"We might need to move to the couch to do the rest," I told him when he finished rubbing the bruise balm onto my puffy cheekbone. He followed me over to the sofa in the open plan living area off the kitchen, and I pulled my T-shirt up for him to access my ribs.
Kody's brow furrowed as he worked—carefully avoiding the area where my ribs were broken—and I knew it was out of concern for my injuries. When he was done, I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him hard.
"I'm fine, Kodiak," I whispered against his lips. "It's just bruising."
He kissed me back, but his brow was still tense and furrowed as he smoothed my T-shirt back down over my peppermint-scented skin.
"You shouldn't be getting hurt like this, babe," he murmured in a low voice. "What fucking use are we if we can't keep you safe?"
I got it. I did. I’d felt the same fucking way when Steele was shot. But self-pity never changed the past, and there was nothing to be gained by entertaining what-ifs. So I bopped him on the nose with my finger.
"Stop it."
His brows shot up in surprise. "Uh..."
"No, seriously, Kody. Stop it. What's done is done, and you know what? It actually worked out for the best. We killed Kruger. The hit on me was canceled. We got rid of Zane and his slimy little lieutenants. I feel a hell of a lot better with Cass in charge of the Reapers, don't you?"
A loud crash of breaking glass cut off whatever he might have replied, and Kody all but threw me down into the couch. He covered me almost completely with his body, blocking my view of whatever the fuck was going on.
Not that I needed to see.
"Gas!" Archer shouted, the alarm in his voice clear as day.
"Stay behind me," Kody ordered. He rolled off me and deftly caught a gun that Steele tossed him from the cutlery drawer. "Cover your mouth and nose," he added, coughing.
It wasn't hard to see what he meant. Several canisters