Page 67 of Damaged Protector
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she asked, her eyebrows squinching together. Poor thing was confused.
“You were assaulted, sweetie.” A grunt from behind me drew my attention, and I saw Hawk pushing to his knees. Holy shit! He was recovering a lot faster than I expected. With a sense of urgency, I swiveled my head back to the woman on the floor to tell her to hurry the hell up, but what I saw shocked me.
She was laughing. Like, that hysterical laughter that was so deep it didn’t even make a sound.
“Katya,” I hissed, “this is not the time to fall apart. We’ve got to go!”
She finally gasped in a breath, her laughter becoming audible as she waved a hand in front of her face. “Y-you thought… and then the pepper spray.” That sent her into another round of giggles, and I was beginning to freak the hell out.
“Katya, please. We’ve got to get out of here before…”
“Before Hawk gets up?” came a voice from directly behind me, and my body turned to ice.
Oh hell! What did I do with that knife after I cut Katya loose? And am I even capable of stabbing another person?
I turned slowly to find him standing there with a bright red face and even redder eyes. Eyes that locked onto me for a long moment before turning to his victim. Then he extended his hand and helped her to her feet before wrapping her in a black satin sheet.
He, on the other hand, was still completely naked.
“You okay, Katya?” he asked, and I gaped at him in disbelief. Was he really asking her—
“Yeah,” she chuckled. “I’m good.”
“You want to explain, or should I?”
My eyes toggled back and forth between the two, and I began to think that perhaps I had made a grave error. They were chatting like they knew each other or something.
Katya flicked her fingers at him. “Oh please, let me. You go wash your face. You look like shit.”
He coughed wetly into his fist. “I feel even worse.” His head tilted in my direction. “That’s Mallori, my housemate.”
Then he strolled away, and Katya’s eyes followed him across the room. As did mine. “Damn, that man has got a superb ass,” she noted, and I couldn’t argue one iota. When he went through the door to the en suite, she returned her attention to me, her eyes kind. “Are you okay, Mallori?”
I massaged my temples. “I’m—I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think I fucked up.”
Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she covered her mouth with her fingertips before schooling her expression. “Maybe a bit. I assure you, Hawk wasn’t assaulting me. We were kind of… role playing, I guess you could say.”
“Shit,” I muttered, the word barely audible as I buried my face in my hands.
“Knife play is something I’m into,” she explained, and I raised my head to look at her. Her lips quirked up on one side, and she gave an unapologetic shrug. “And I might have a bit of a degradation kink. He was just giving me what I needed.”
“I am so sorry, Katya. I saw… and I thought… Jesus, you must think I’m an idiot.”
“Not at all.” Her face turned somber, and she tilted her head to the side. “Something happened to me once. A long time ago.” Her eyes defocused as she stared at something from her past. “I wish someone had stood up for me then. Anyone.”
That last word was delivered in a mere whisper, and I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around this virtual stranger and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Katya. I understand.”
After a brief hesitation, she returned my embrace, holding me as tightly as I held her. When we pulled apart, I glanced around the room. There was a huge bed with a metal headboard and a black satin fitted sheet that matched the one Katya was wearing as a dress. A number of cabinets lined the charcoal-gray walls.
Hawk returned before I could even fathom what was in all of those. His wet hair told me he’d taken a quick shower, and thankfully he’d put on some gray athletic shorts. He looked marginally better, though his lips and eyes were horribly puffy.
Because I had sprayed him in the face with a toxic chemical. I’d never felt shittier in my life.
His expression was stoic, unreadable, and I knew he had to be so freaking angry with me. Hot tears filled my eyes and spilled over the barrier of my eyelids before I could stop them.
“I am so sorry,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t have to see him like that. Hurt. Because of me.
I was surprised—for about the millionth time tonight—when a rough thumb stroked gently beneath my left eye. “Are you okay, Little Bee?” The concern in his voice made me feel even worse, and my lips trembled when I answered.