Afterglow: A Brother's Best Friend Romance, page 3
There is no way I’m calling my family. They would lose their minds and also call the cops.
I grab my phone off the coffee table, calling the only person I can think of who would rescue me and keep it quiet. Thankfully, I got his number when he helped my brothers move me in.
“It’s the middle of the fucking night,” Dax grumbles, and it almost makes me laugh. Shit, is that a sign of a concussion?
“I need help.” I sob.
“Where are you?” he asks as my vision turns spotty.
“Home,” I whisper, finding it harder to talk.
“On my way,” he states and ends the call.
I lie down on the floor, my eyes slowly fluttering shut no matter how hard I try to keep them open. I’m aware it’s not smart to fall asleep right now, but I can’t stop it. It’s like there are cinder blocks tied to my eyelids, forcing them to shut. Finally, my body stops fighting, and the world goes black.
Chapter 4
Dax
My blood is boiling as I make my way to Izzy’s house. I should call Riley. She’s his little sister, but if she called me instead of him, there’s a reason for it. The memory of her voice breaking, the fear that was so prevalent there, replays in my mind over and over again while I race through the city. Whoever is responsible for making her sound like that will have hell to pay if I have it my way.
It was most likely her stupid boyfriend, Leo. I never liked the guy, but it’s not like I can control who Izzy dates.
The sleazy asshole has everyone fooled except me. I see through his bullshit like he’s made of glass. Before Izzy, he went through a string of subs, all singing his praises even after things ended. That’s why he was allowed to continue going to the club. I still don’t buy it, though. I’ve always been one to trust my gut, and it’s telling me he isn’t as good as everyone claims he is.
I’ve seen evil in someone’s eyes before. That same gleam hides behind Leo’s gaze.
Pressing my foot harder on the gas pedal, I push my Darko GTE to its limit. Obviously, I’m traveling well above the speed limit, but I don’t give a fuck. I pray there aren’t cops out tonight, not that I can’t afford the ticket. I just don’t need to waste any time getting to Izzy.
It doesn’t take long before I pull into Leo’s drive. Fortunately, I had the address saved in my phone from when we all helped Izzy move.
I glare at the giant gaudy house while climbing out of my car. This place fits Leo’s personality to a T. Izzy’s? Not so much.
As I hustle past the garage, I pause briefly, peering in and letting out a sigh of relief that Leo’s car isn’t here. I’m certain I could take him in a fight, but I don’t want little Izzy to see that side of me.
I don’t bother to knock when I get to the door, and I’m thankful it’s unlocked. I’d kick it in if I had to, but that would be a bigger headache. A shudder runs down my spine, and all the air whooshes out of my lungs when my eyes land on Izzy. Her body is lying limp on the floor in a puddle of blood.
“What the fuck?” I growl out and rush to her side. “Izzy, open your eyes,” I encourage, blowing out a sigh of relief when she stirs. “That’s it, open those pretty brown eyes.” I keep my voice soft and my panic on the inside to help her stay calm. If she sees me freaking out, she’ll do the same.
She blinks open her eyes but winces when she tries to move.
“Stay still. Let me check you over.”
She freezes, and her eyes go wide as she stares at me. It’s then that it dawns on me I used my Dom voice on her. I’ve never done that before. She’s my best friend’s younger sister, making her strictly off-limits, but for the moment, it serves my purpose, so I’ll unpack these weird thoughts later.
I grab a penlight from my coat pocket, thankful I have one in almost all my jackets.
Her pupils seem to be responding properly, which is great, but I don’t like the bruises forming on her face.
“Where is the blood coming from?” I ask gently.
“I hit my head on the coffee table,” she mutters.
Heads bleed like a stuck fucking pig, so the amount of blood isn’t honestly too concerning. What is worrying me is the potential of her brain bleeding. I carefully roll her to her side to make sure the wound isn’t still open. Once I’ve confirmed that, I roll her onto her back again.
“We need to get you to the hospital,” I say, but she shakes her head.
“No. They’ll call the cops. I’m not ready for that conversation,” she whimpers.
She tries to sit up but winces again, so I lean in to help her. I hate seeing her in so much pain.
“This isn’t something I’m going to let you talk your way out of. Head injuries are serious, Izzy. I’ll deal with the fucking cops, but you have to go…” I pause, staring into her eyes, letting her know I’m not fucking around, but she doesn’t look convinced. “You could have broken bones, a brain bleed, and probably a concussion. Please let me take you to a hospital,” I beg, something I never do.
“You promise I won’t have to deal with the cops?”
I nod.
Most of the time with adult abuse victims, they encourage the person to press charges but don’t force their hand. They might call in a social worker, but I’ve been known to smooth talk one or two.
“I need to get my stuff.” She tries to stand, but her motions are wobbly. There is no way she’ll be able to do this on her own.
“Let me help you.” I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. “What do you need for tonight? We’ll come back tomorrow for the rest.”
“Honestly, I don’t have much. Two suitcases should be enough for everything. I’d prefer never to step foot in this place ever again.” My brows pull together in confusion. We moved a hell of a lot more than that over. “Leo made me throw out most of my stuff,” she supplies.
I grind my teeth together. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” I growl out and set Izzy on the bed.
Pulling out two suitcases from the closet, I toss them on the floor and pack her stuff, following her instructions on where her clothes are. I’m sure one of the bags is Leo’s, but it’s not like I give a flying fuck that we’re taking it. The fucker should be in jail. Losing a suitcase is nowhere near the punishment he deserves.
Once all her stuff is packed, I haul the suitcases to the car and pop them in the trunk before returning for Izzy. I carry her out of the house, careful with each step I take. She doesn’t fight my touch or that I haven’t let her walk since I got here. It’s clear she’s utterly exhausted.
I drive to the best hospital in town, knowing she’ll get the best care there. It’s also not a hospital Riley works at, so we won’t have a run-in with him.
As I drive, I keep a close eye on Izzy, praying that fucker didn’t do extensive damage to her brain.
Once we arrive at the hospital, I gingerly pull my best friend’s little sister out of my car and carry her inside.
“Oh my goodness.” A young lady sitting behind the desk gasps as I walk in with a barely conscious Izzy. “What’s wrong?”
“She has a head injury. She’ll need a CT scan and X-rays stat.” Her eyes go wide. “I’m a doctor,” I explain.
She picks up the phone and talks to someone briefly before hanging up and handing me a clipboard with papers attached. “Fill this out. Someone will be out right away.”
I thank her and make my way to a chair to finish the paperwork as quickly as possible. I fill in the information to the best of my ability, hoping it’s good enough. Izzy tries to help, but she keeps wincing in my arms, and pain is written all over her face. It makes my stomach knot with concern.
Once the paperwork is turned in, I sit again and play the ridiculous waiting game that no one likes to play in the ER.
“Isabella Thatcher?” a nurse calls.
I stand up, letting out a sigh of relief when I find my friend, Vanessa, standing there.
“That’s us,” I reply with Izzy still in my arms. I haven’t set her down since we arrived.
Vanessa grabs a wheelchair, instructing me to set Izzy in it. But, weirdly enough, I don’t want to let her go. Why? I have no fucking clue.
Reluctantly, I listen to Vanessa and tentatively set Izzy down.
“What happened?” she inquires.
When I don’t respond, she narrows her eyes at me briefly and nods, not pushing me for answers I won’t give.
“Who’s on tonight?” I ask as we walk down the hall.
“Dr. Vetter.”
He’s a good man and a great doctor.
“I’m going to take your vitals, then a doctor will be right in with you,” she tells Izzy once we are in a room.
Izzy nods, but her eyes are glazed over like she’s in a faraway land. She’s probably in shock. Her hair is a fucking mess, and her clothes are covered in blood. The sight breaks my heart. I can’t believe this happened to her.
After numerous tests and a thorough exam by Dr. Vetter, we are left for observation as we wait for the results.
Hours pass before I can take Izzy home, but at least I have a clear conscience. There was no bleeding in her brain or broken bones, only a minor concussion. She’s lucky.
I hold her in my arms the entire elevator ride to my penthouse apartment, her head resting on my chest. I’m oddly aware I like having Izzy in my arms. That’s something else I’m going to have to unpack later.
When we left the hospital, I wanted to take Izzy to her parents’ house, but she begged me not to. It’s not like I don’t have the space. It shouldn’t be a big deal for her to stay with me while she heals. I’ll be able to keep a close eye on her this way and monitor her vitals. I want to make sure she’s healing properly. That’s the only reason I agreed to her crashing at my place. Not because I’ve suddenly developed this overwhelming need to have her close and protect her.
So many things to fucking unpack.
Once inside the apartment, I take her directly to a spare room, lay her on the bed, and tuck her in. She doesn’t argue. Probably a mixture of hurt pride and the good pain meds they gave her at the hospital.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” I whisper.
Her head bobbles up and down, but she doesn’t respond.
When I turn to leave, her arm darts out to grab my hand, stopping me in my tracks. Her touch is warm and welcoming, making my heart race a bit.
“Thank you again,” she murmurs. “I still can’t believe I was so stupid to get myself in this situation. I should have moved out when I spotted the small red flags after we moved in together.”
Shaking my head, I sit on the side of the bed, her hand still on mine.
“This is not your fault.”
A single tear trickles across her cheek, and I instinctively reach out to wipe it away. When my thumb touches her cheek, a jolt of electricity runs through my arm, making me pause. Izzy’s eyes go wide. Did she feel that too?
I pull my hand away and stand to leave, knowing she needs rest. That’s the only way she’ll get better.
Leaving her feels wrong, but staying doesn’t seem right either. I pinch the bridge of my nose once I’m out of the room and gently shut the door.
I don’t do complicated things in my life. Yet Isabella Christine Thatcher is stirring things inside me that I never in a million years thought I would be feeling. This has trouble written all over it. I should be calling Riley right now and getting this gorgeous woman out of my house. That’s the last thing I want to do, though.
I want to keep Izzy in my house for as long as she needs and be the person she leans on.
Her family might think she’s the princess they treat her as, but I know underneath is a kinky girl needing to be released. I can’t be that guy for so many reasons, but I can be her friend.
At least I hope I can.
Chapter 5
Izzy
Morning light peaks through the small gap in the blinds, waking me. I wince, my head throbbing when I sit up, and the room spins a little.
Good fucking morning.
Memories of last night come flooding to me, and I shudder. I still can’t believe I’m in this situation. I saw the red flags, and I ignored them.
I’m a fucking idiot.
I move carefully and toss my legs over the side of the bed before forcing my tired bones to a standing position. I pause when my stomach rolls, threatening to bring up anything that might be in it. After a few deep inhales and exhales, I make my way to the connected bathroom on wobbly legs. If I’m going to throw up, that would be a much better place to do it instead of the middle of the nice guest bedroom.
I whimper when I glance in the mirror. Ugly bruises cover my face, my eye is swollen, and I look like shit overall. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I examine my appearance. I force myself to turn away, not needing to see myself like that anymore.
I take care of business and head down the hall to find Dax. I’m in need of some more pain meds, and he didn’t leave any on the bedside table last night.
As I look for him, I take in his penthouse apartment. I’ve never been here before. Dax and I aren’t friends, so I had no reason to. He’s Riley’s best friend. That’s the only reason he’s in my life at all.
When I get to the open kitchen-living room space, I pause as my eyes roam over the area. This place is a lot barer than I figured it would be. It’s almost as if it was decorated like this when he moved in and didn’t care to change it. There is no personality whatsoever. Nothing to let people know Dax lives here. Someone else could easily move in, and they’d never know he used to own this place.
“You’re awake.” Dax’s voice startles me, and I squeal and grab my chest before spinning to find him in a pair of sweats and a black shirt. “Sorry for scaring you,” he says, but his words don’t fully register. My brain is too focused on staring at him.
Even in casual wear, this man is hot enough to bake cookies off of. His hard pecs press against the dark material, and his pants sit low on his hips. If he stretched, I’m sure I would get a nice view of a perfect V.
How is he so fucking sexy?
“How are you feeling?” he asks with a smirk after I stay silent for a beat too long.
Shit, he caught me checking him out. Heat covers my face, and I force my eyes to meet his, immediately regretting it. His eyes are easy to get lost in. I had forgotten that.
I blink and glance up at the ceiling before remembering to reply to his question.
“Like I got beat up.” I know it’s a lame joke.
Dax’s face drops, clearly not amused at my dark humor. “You should take some more pain meds.” He heads for the kitchen.
I follow, watching him grab a glass, fill it with water, open a bottle of pills, and pour two into his hand. He hands me both, and I pop the pills into my mouth and wash them down with the cold water.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually.” I try to smile, but it hurts.
“Why don’t you go lie down on the couch? I’ll make us something to eat. You’ll need lots of rest to give your body time to heal.”
I nod, remembering everything the doctor at the hospital told me last night.
“How long do you think the bruises will take to fade?” I ask. I won’t be able to be around my family until they’re gone.
“It can take up to two weeks.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“Trying to figure out how you’ll avoid your family for two weeks?”
“Yup. I’m assuming the more they heal, the easier they will be to cover, but I’ve never been an expert at makeup.”
“You don’t need makeup,” he says, making me blush.
It’s been years since I’ve had a crush on Dax, but it’s already obvious to me it won’t be hard to rekindle those emotions.
“I was thinking about calling Caidance. I’m sure she’ll let me stay with her for a while.” I pull out a stool on the island and sit down.
“Why?” Dax huffs out, his brows pulled together.
“Well, obviously, I can’t go home, but I’ve also been thinking it isn’t fair to force you to house me until I’m better.”
“You aren’t forcing me to do anything,” he states firmly. “I want to take care of you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re Riley’s little sister. Riley’s like a brother to me, so that makes you family,” he says, grabbing a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon from the refrigerator.
Yup, that reason makes perfect sense. It’s always how Dax has seen me. Riley’s little sister. It is how everyone sees me. To others, I don’t have my own identity outside of my family. It fucking sucks.
“Fine, I’ll stay,” I concede after a moment but make a mental note to text Caidance, filling her in on what happened.
“Good g—” He cuts himself off, but I’m pretty sure he was about to say, ‘Good girl.’ “Good, good,” he corrects himself. “I’ll give you a tour of the place later since I’m not here much during the day. I want you to feel at home while you’re here.”
I nod, not really having words. My heart is fluttering in my chest at the mere idea of Dax calling me ‘good girl,’ but we don’t have any sort of dynamic, so any kind of honorifics would be out of line.
Stupid old crush.
“You’re on summer break from school, right?” Dax asks while cracking eggs into another pan.
“Yup. I start my master’s this year. I’m super excited for clinical experience.”
His lips turn up a little, the look alone making my heart flop around in my chest like a happy fish.
Leo had been talking about me dropping out, not loving how I was pursuing a career in occupational therapy.
“It’s hard work, but you’re doing it. I’m sure your parents are proud.”
My stomach rolls at the mention of how my parents feel about my career choice. I wish they were proud of me.
“I mean, it’s not a doctor like Riley or a dentist like Harley or a lawyer like Grayden or a brain surgeon like Marcus is in school to be,” I mutter. “But I love occupational therapy. There isn’t anything that would stop me from pursuing this career.”
