Page 67 of Dash

“Thanks, brother.” I sigh, and my chest tightens. “If things get bad or something happens to me… promise me… promise you’ll take care of her.” I don’t say her name. I don’t need to. He knows who I’m fucking talking about.

His eyes slide to her. “She’s got you tangled.”

“Yeah,” I don’t bother to lie, “she does.”

He nods once, sharp. “I’ll take care of her, I promise. Ivy would fuckin’ make me anyway.”

I laugh softly.

It’s a few hours before I’m released from the hospital, long enough to make sure my brain isn’t soup, but not enough time for Dayna to feel like I’m not going to collapse.

I’m glad to get the fuck gone.

I can’t protect her in a place like this.

Too many variables.

Too many people with motives I can’t read.

Dayna hovers around me like she’s scared my head might explode if she looks away, but I’m more worried about how exhausted she looks.

There are dark smudges under her eyes, and she tries to hide it, but I see her wobble as we walk to the car.

I keep my hand wrapped around her elbow, just in case.

Diesel drives us back to her place, and by the time we get up to her flat, all I can think about is crawling into bed with her.

“Are you sure you should be walking?” she asks for the third time since we got out of the car.

I hear the thread of fear in her words. She’s freaked.

“I’m good, babe. I promise.”

She glares over her shoulder, walking slightly ahead, like she’s trying to race to the door so she can open it before I collapse.

“Is there an evolutionary reason why men think they need to pretend they’re fine after a traumatic injury?”

“Did you know that concussion?—”

She whirls on Diesel, who is walking behind me like a silent sentinel. “No.No!I appreciate the weird facts, Diesel, but I swear, if you tell me his brain is about to leak out of his skull, I’m tired enough and emotional enough that I’m just gonna sit on the floor and cry. If that’s what you want to deal with, then continue.”

His mouth clamps shut.

Smart man.

“I got it from here,” I say, letting him off the hook. “Thanks for making sure we got home okay.”

He stares at me like he is contemplating whether he wants to throttle me or throw my body into the canal.

“Call if you need anything.” He glances at Dayna, and I swear his eyes soften. “Bye, Dayna.”

She smiles and then shocks the shit out of me by hugging him. Diesel freezes like he’s had concrete injected into his veins but doesn’t push her away.

My jaw is lead before I realise I’ve clamped my teeth together. My girl hugging Diesel like she’s known him for years makes vicious jealousy stir in my gut. I want her wrapped around me, not him.

“Thanks for the emotional support snacks,” she says.

I watch as he walks away. “Did you two bond while I was unconscious?”

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