Play (Stage Dive, #2)(82)

“Are you okay?” asked Mal.

“Ah …” was about the best I could do.

“Anne, oh f*cking hell, I’m so sorry,” Reece babbled.

“Easy,” said Mal. My head was carefully lifted and placed upon a firm jeans-clad thigh.

“Hey. Hi,” I said, somewhat dazed and confused. I covered my battered eye with both hands, breathing through the exquisite agony.

“Pumpkin, what the f*ck were you thinking, running in like that?”

“I was saving you. Or something. You know …”

They had stopped fighting. It was sort of a success.

Excited whimpering came from the box beside me. A little head popped up, then disappeared. What the hell? To the whole scene basically, I couldn’t restrict the question to any one thing happening tonight on the front lawn. The grass was cool and damp beneath me. I lay on my back, staring up at the night sky. My brain pounded. Mal stared down at me, his eyes tight with concern, his face a bloody mess.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Ouch.”

“Anne, I’m so damn sorry,” said Reece, looking about as contrite and torn up about it as possible. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” Mostly. “Advil and ice would probably be good.”

“Yep, let’s get you upstairs.” Mal carefully brushed the hair back from my face.

Panting this time came from the box, along with a high-pitched yelp.

“It’s alright, Killer. Mommy’s okay.” Mal put a hand in the box and lifted out a wriggly little body covered in black-and-white fur. A fancy, studded collar sat around his neck, topped off by a big red bow. The bow was bigger than the dog. “Mommy was trying to save Daddy from evil Uncle Reecey, wasn’t she? A nice thing to do, but Daddy is still going to spank Mommy for being so silly and jumping into a fight. Yes he is, because Daddy’s the best.”

“Oh for f*ck’s sake,” mumbled Reece.

“Happy birthday; I got you a puppy.” Mal held the puppy near my face and a wet, pink tongue darted out, licking my chin. He had the darkest, sweetest little eyes. “I named him Killer.”

“Wow.” God, he was cute–the man and the dog both. “Mal, you can’t call something that small Killer.”

“He earned it. Killed one of my Chucks right after I picked him up this afternoon. Chewed a hole right through it.”

The puppy licked me again, nearly getting me on the lips this time.

“Gross, little dude.” I smiled. “I know what you do with that tongue.”

Mal smiled, then handed the puppy to Reece. “Here, carry him up. Don’t drop him.”

“I won’t drop him.”

“You better not.”

More grumbling from Reece and some yips from Killer the puppy. Truly, this night was surreal.

“Wait, Mal. What about your mom?” I asked. “How is she?”

His mouth firmed and his brows descended. “Not good. She doesn’t have long now.”

“What are you doing here?”

His bloody face screwed up and gave me a pained look. “That’s kind of a long story too. I’ll tell it to you upstairs.”

A car pulled to a screeching halt at the curb, and Nate and Lauren rushed out. I waved groggily at them. “It’s okay. They stopped fighting.”

“Ooh, look at the puppy!” cried Lauren.

“You two f*cking idiots. What did you do to her?” Nate squatted down next to me, scowling, studying my rapidly swelling shut eye. The world was a blur on that side. “How’s your head, Anne?”

He turned back to Lauren, who was still busy petting and cooing at Killer. “Lauren, leave the dog and call that nurse friend of yours. If we take Anne anywhere like this people will ask questions I’m assuming she won’t want to answer.”

“Sorry. Yes. Good idea.” Lauren pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

“No, please don’t,” I said. “It’s fine.”

Lauren hesitated, looking between me, Mal, and Nate.

“Really,” I insisted, trying to look perky. “I’m going to have a shiner, but I’m okay.”

“I’ll carry her,” growled Mal when Nate tried to pick me up.

“I’ll walk. Just help me up.” I held up my hands and Nate gently pulled me to my feet. Behind me, Mal jumped up. He gripped my hips, holding me steady as the world slipped and slid.

“Whoa.” My head spun round and round.

“Easy.” Mal stood at my back, letting me lean against him until I found my feet. “Fuck, Anne. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve never had a black eye before.”

“Could have lived without you getting one now because of me.” His lips brushed against my ear. “Let me carry you.”

“Okay.” Fighting was dumb. Mal and Reece fighting, and me resisting being carried.

Mal picked me up in his big, strong arms while I swooned like a proper romance-novel heroine.

“I’m thinking my career as a prizefighter has come and gone.” I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Man, I’d missed that. Mal just shook his head. I don’t think he was quite ready to see the humor in my getting hit just yet.