Hold on Tight (Sea Breeze #8)(33)

“You,” I said, pointing at Dewayne with the hand that was attached to my good arm. “You went to Cam’s office today! How dare you question my decisions? When you’re out here with”—I glanced at the female who had thankfully pulled her shirt up over her chest—“her.”

The girl frowned at me. “Who is this?” she asked in a pouty voice, and I realized her lips were pumped full. Ugh.

“I was protecting you. Someone needs to. You agreed to a date with a stranger at the grocery store, Sienna. I was making sure he wasn’t a psycho.”

“You had no right! I’m not bringing him around Micah. Not until I know him. So that means he is none of your business.”

Dewayne raised his eyebrows and took a step toward me. His expression darkened. “Yeah, it is. I want Micah’s momma safe.”

Well, crap. I would not melt because he was being a protective, possessive bear. Just because I hadn’t known what it felt like didn’t mean I had to like it. Dang it.

“What about her? You’re in Micah’s life. Is she safe?” I asked.

Dewayne didn’t even glance back at her or explain. He had been about to screw her right here in front of everyone, but now he was ignoring her. “I don’t even know her name, Sienna. This is just fun, baby. I’ll never see her again.”

“Excuse me,” the girl said, now more than annoyed.

My heart had decided to do a little flippy thing from him calling me baby. Which was ridiculous. He thought I was average, and now I knew why. I didn’t wear enough makeup or show enough skin for him.

“It’s what I do, Sienna. I don’t do relationships or dates. You were going on a date with the guy. I had to make sure that he was a good man.”

Okay. I didn’t understand this world at all. Dewayne was still a man whore, apparently. I had never seen him in a relationship with a female. Which was a shame because the territorial thing he did and the way he called me baby was pretty amazing. Even in his barbarian way he made me felt special. He was good at that.

Cam cleared his throat behind me, and I realized I had forgotten him in the car. I turned back to him and gave him an apologetic smile. “Cam, you know Dewayne,” I said, then glanced back at Dewayne. “So, did he pass inspection?”

Dewayne didn’t move his eyes off me. He held my gaze for a moment too long. The female with him said something, but I was completely lost in his eyes. I had always loved his eyes. “Yeah, Little Red, he’s safe.”

He hadn’t called me Little Red in so long I had forgotten about the nickname. But that wasn’t what struck me the most. It was the way he said “safe.” As if he’d been let down by me. Hadn’t he wanted me with someone safe?

“Take care of her,” he said to Cam, then turned around and took the girl’s arm, and they walked back to the club.

Cam touched my sore arm, and I jerked. Crap, I had forgotten about that. It was still throbbing. “It’s dark out here, but this looks like it’s gonna be a helluva bruise. Let’s get you home and get some ice on it. Unless you can’t move it and you need me to take you to the hospital.”

I made myself move it, and I could easily enough. I just winced and teared up.

“I’m good. I just need some ice,” I assured him.

We didn’t talk much on the way back to my house, and I figured this would be the end of Cam. Not that I could blame him.

* * *

The knocking on the front door broke me out of my thoughts as I stirred the sugar in my coffee. I walked to the door, wondering if Micah had already woken up and wanted to come home. I wanted to see him. When Tabby had told me he’d fallen asleep and asked if he could sleep over, I hadn’t wanted to say yes. I had never been apart from Micah at night.

But the way Tabby’s eyes lit up with hope made me give in, and I went home alone. Without Micah sleeping in his room beside mine, I hadn’t slept well. I missed him. I wasn’t sure how he would feel about waking up without me.

I opened the door to find Dewayne instead. Not who I wanted to see this morning. Not at all.

“We need to talk,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. He may own a lot of things, but this house was mine.

I left the door open because I didn’t like the idea of being closed up inside with him. I was mad at him. My arm had a black-and-blue bruise on it in the shape of his massive hand. I had taken ibuprofen last night and kept my arm on ice. Didn’t seem to help. It hurt and it looked awful.

“Last night—” he said, then stopped as his eyes zeroed in on my bruised arm. I watched as he went pale, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out. It was ugly, but it wasn’t that ugly.

“Holy f**k,” he swore, walking over to me and taking my wrist gently in his hand so he could lift my tender arm and look at it. “I did this,” he said.

I just nodded. Who else did he think had grabbed me like he wanted to break me last night?

“I need to be shot,” he said as he gently touched his fingertip to the marred skin. It was like a feather and, instead of hurting, caused me to shiver. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Know that. I would never hurt you. I didn’t know it was you last night when you slapped me, and I had drunk too damn much. My mind was slow, and it took me too long to register that it was you. God, Sienna, I’m so sorry.”