“What’s going on?” I demand, entering her kitchen.
Shelby jumps up from the chair, her hands out in front of her. Austin sits at the head of the table, her elbows on the dark surface and face in her hands, her hair is down and blocking my view of her.
“Get the hell out of here, Cole!” Shelby growls.
“What happened to her?” I demand, ignoring her order. She looks fine. Maybe she is just really hungover.
“Don’t act stupid,” Shelby snaps. “We all know you did this to her.”
“He didn’t do it,” Austin replies in a tired voice.
“Me? I didn’t do shit …”
“You expect us to believe that?” Shelby snaps. “Last time she was here, she needed fifteen stitches because you took a knife to her arm.”
“You what?” Becky demands from the other side of the table.
My teeth clench. “I’ve hurt her, yes, but I didn’t do this. Hell, I don’t even know what this is. Why the fuck is she here?”
“I’m calling the cops,” Shelby says, turning to the kitchen counter where her cell phone lays.
Deke grabs her shoulder, pulling her back. “No, you’re not.”
“Why, Deke?” she snaps. “Did you help him? Will you go to jail too?”
“What is going on? What are you guys talking about?” Becky asks, her blue eyes going back and forth between us. “Deke, what have you done?”
“He didn’t do it,” Deke says, ignoring Becky’s questions.
Shelby narrows her eyes on him. “You’d take his side …”
“He didn’t do it!” Austin snaps. She drops her hands from her face, and they slap down onto the table. She looks up at us. Becky closes her eyes and turns away.
“Fuck.” Deke hisses.
My heart stops when I see her. She has three cuts on her face that Shelby has stitched up along her right eye. Her skin bruised and swollen. Her right eye purple.
“You don’t know that,” Shelby argues. “You said the guy was wearing a black hood. It was dark. And Becky was asleep. It could have been Cole—”
“No,” she interrupts her. Then she looks me in the eyes. “Cole is a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it with the lights on, and his eyes on mine. He wouldn’t hide.”
I hold her stare, but my stomach knots at her words.
“Who did this?” Becky asks as tears well in her eyes.
Austin looks at Deke, then back at me. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit! You know. Who the fuck hurt you?” I demand. The shock wearing off. The anger seeping into my veins.
“Cole …”
“Who did this to you?” I snap.
She just stares at me. Her eyes are bloodshot, and they look glazed over, and I wonder if Shelby was able to give her anything for pain since she probably still has alcohol in her system.
I walk over to the table, kneel, and cup her cheek. “Who, sweetheart?”
She sighs. “It was Kellan.”
My jaw tightens.
“Why would Kellan want to hurt you?” Shelby asks skeptically.
I stand and start to pace. He’s gonna fucking die.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Austin,” Deke begins. “But can you prove it?”
She nods. “My phone.”
“What about it?” I snap, that need for blood growing stronger and stronger. The feel of it on my fingers. The smell of it in the air. It’s been too long since I’ve beat a man with my bare hands.
“He took it.”
“Why would he want your phone?” Shelby asks.
“Last night, I told the guys I had insurance in case they tried to fuck me over. Then this morning when I woke up, I took my phone with me to the bathroom. He grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the mirror. I passed out from the hit. When I woke up, my phone was missing.”
“He’s fucking dead …” I growl.
“Positive?” Deke demands, interrupting me.
She nods.
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t Cole …” Shelby points at me.
“Deke and Cole are the only two who know that I have a retina scanner on my phone. They know that they can’t get into it. Kellan does not.”
I come to a stop and look down at her.
“Whatever he wanted he’s not gonna get.” She sits back in her chair. “Plus, I’m not dumb enough to keep that shit on my phone.”
She stands from the table, and I walk over to help her out, but she pushes me away. “I’m going home to go back to bed.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Deke urges.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m tired … hungover … and a bit bitchy.” They open and narrow on his. “I wanna go …”
“Come with me,” I offer.
She looks up at me. “No.”
She’s still mad at me.
I cup her face, and her eyes search mine, but I still see the hesitation in them. I’m not sure what I can do or say to get her back. If words are even good enough. But I have to try. Especially now. I don’t want to hurt her. I have to protect her. I’m all she has.