Burn (Breathless #3)(27)

Her shoulders sagged and she nearly dropped the keys that dangled precariously from her fingers. She tightened her grip and then pushed her chin upward.

“Let me by,” she said through clenched teeth.

To her surprise, he dropped his hands and let her go down the steps, but he followed closely behind, giving her no option to go in and shut the door to prevent his entry.

She sighed as she unlocked her door and pushed it open. She felt better the moment she was inside. Her own space. It was laughable that she felt safe here after what had happened with Michael. But now that she knew just what he was capable of, she’d never make the mistake of letting him within a mile of her.

She dropped her purse by the door and walked into her tiny living area. Ash closed the door, sliding the deadbolt into place, and then he too entered her living room. A room that suddenly seemed way smaller with him in it. He stood there, staring at her, his gaze relentless as he did a thorough up-and-down of her body, stopping once again on the bruise on her cheek.

His eyes grew cold and she shivered.

“I haven’t heard from you,” he began.

She flushed guiltily and lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see all she wanted to hide.

“And now I’m thinking there was a reason you haven’t called me.”

Slowly she nodded, still not meeting his gaze.

“Josie, look at me.”

His voice was soft. Gentle even. But it was definitely not a request. It was a command. One she felt compelled to obey.

Slowly she lifted her head so their eyes met.

“Who did this to you?”

Gone was the gentleness, replaced by an edge of steel to his tone. His entire body vibrated with fury and it made her hesitant to tell him what had happened. How she’d ever thought him not dangerous or perhaps charming or affable she had no clue. Because the man standing in front of her right here, right now, looked capable of terrible things.

And it wasn’t that she was afraid of him. No, she knew instinctively, even as she was shrouded in fear over what had already happened to her, that this man would not hurt her. But he was angry. Angry didn’t even begin to describe what she saw in his eyes. And he absolutely looked capable of killing someone. She found herself not wanting to tell him, because she feared not him, but what he’d do.

“Josie, answer me,” he said through his teeth. “Who. Did. This. To. You.”

He wasn’t going to allow her not to tell him. And though she didn’t fear reprisal, she knew she absolutely had to obey him. He wouldn’t allow her to duck the question. She firmly believed he’d stand here all night, do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

She closed her eyes and exhaled in a long, weary sigh, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Michael,” she whispered, her voice so low she could barely hear it herself. Maybe she hadn’t even really voiced it.

“Say that again?”

The words whipped from his lips, snapping through the air with enough force that she felt them. She chanced a glance up and immediately flinched at the look on his face. It was . . . terrifying.

“You heard,” she whispered in only a slightly louder voice.

“You’re telling me that motherf*cker put those bruises on your face? That he split your lip?”

He advanced and she rapidly took a step backward, which only seemed to piss him off even more.

“Goddamn it, Josie, I’m not going to hurt you! I’ll never f**king hurt you.”

The words were explosive. Not exactly soothing and yet she took comfort in the vehemence with which he made the vow. So much so that she took a step back toward him so they now only stood a foot apart.

His entire body still vibrated with rage. His green eyes were nearly black, the green just a thin ring around the dilated pupils. And then he raised his hands, slowly, as if he feared frightening her. He cupped her face in his palms, his touch infinitely gentle, and she didn’t know how he could possibly pull that off when the rest of his body was taut with fury and his expression was so black.

But that touch was so exquisitely tender that she literally melted into his hands. She felt no pain even though her face was still painful to touch several days after the incident. He brushed his fingers over the bruise and then traced the split at her lip, so lightly that she nearly didn’t feel it.

“I’ll kill him.”

Ash’s voice was absolute. The resolution in his voice made her blood chill in her veins because she believed him. In this moment, she believed him absolutely capable of killing the man who’d hurt her. Her pulse leapt and her breathing accelerated as panic shot down into her belly.

“No! Ash, please. Just let it go. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Why I haven’t called.”

She would have said more, but he put his finger over the uninjured part of her mouth to silence her.

“Let it go?”

His tone was deadly.

“You want me to f**king let it go when that motherf*cker put his hands on you? What the f**k happened, Josie, and I want every goddamn detail. Nothing left out. I want to know when this happened. I want to know how many times he hit you. And above all, I want to know why the hell you didn’t immediately come to me or call me, the instant this happened.”

Her mouth went slack against his finger. And then, as if he changed his mind entirely, he pulled away, turning to survey her living room, glancing toward the open archway to her bedroom.