“A few weeks.” The doctor didn’t look pleased to be shut down. He obviously didn’t believe her. Not that it fucking mattered.
“Wynter, we have to call your uncle.” Fucking Cassio, always wanted to do the right thing. Goddamn him!
Wynter’s head turned back to us, her bruised eyes looking somehow defeated. “No. It’d bring war.”
“Did the DiLustros do this to you?” Cassio asked sharply.
“It’s none of your business,” Wynter rasped, narrowing her eyes, though by the expression on her face, that little movement pained her.
“Wynter, I’m Áine. We can help you. Whatever you need. Someone to talk to, anything.”
Wynter slid her legs from under the sheet off the bed and slowly sat up, all the while the nurse and the doctor protested. Ignoring them, her head tilted back and she stared at all of us unblinking.
“If you say anything to my uncle, I’ll deny it.” She let the words sink. “I’ll blame you if I have to. I’m not going back to Uncle and Mom until I’m healed.”
Cassio growled at her and I took a step closer to Wynter, in case the idiot tried something.
“Try something, Cassio, and you're a dead man,” I warned.
Silence and tension was thick in the room. Nothing new. It followed me everywhere.
“Please, I don’t want anyone dying on my account,” Wynter begged, realizing her words were taken as a threat. “I just want to stay away from my family for now.”
Cassio let out a soft groan, clearly disagreeing with that request.
“You’ll stay at my place until you’re ready to go back,” I told her firmly, glaring at my friends and daring them to say anything.
Wynter’s bruised and swollen lips curved into a smile and I saw the resemblance of that girl that hugged fellow skaters offering comfort. This woman would never be tough.
“Thank you, Sasha.”
She had the kind of smile that’d break hearts. Just like someone broke hers.
CHAPTER30
Wynter
Iwatched Sasha remove his holster, then pull his shirt over his head, revealing his muscled and tattooed torso. My heart didn’t even skip a beat.
“Wyn, you really have no qualms staring at a man's body,” Sasha remarked sarcastically.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” I teased softly.
I’ve been with Sasha at his place for the past two weeks and grew accustomed to his unique brand of humor. I was almost completely healed. Physically, at least. Nightmares plagued me and emotional scars refused to heal. I wasn’t helping myself by not dealing with it. Except, each time I even thought about what happened, panic would tear through my chest, cold and dark, and my breathing would shallow.
So when Sasha had offered to teach me how to fight, I eagerly accepted the offer. I saw it as a way to heal. I’d get stronger and I’d never be caught vulnerable again. Not like that.
Uncle Brennan had gone ballistic. The only thing that kept him from attacking Sasha was Davina. Thank God for her. It had been the longest I’d gone without seeing my best friends. I missed them terribly, but I kept delaying the reunion with them. It would have been hard to explain the marks on my face.
“I’m far from shy,” Sasha responded dryly. “Though most women avert their eyes in respect.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure they do,” I muttered. “They are probably gawking with their mouths wide open.” Sasha shook his head, disbelief crossing his expression. “Anyhow, I’ve seen plenty of athletes changing in my lifetime. You’re nothing special.”
Okay, a tiny lie. I had never seen an athlete built like him. Maybe if I dealt with MMA fighters, but certainly not figure skaters.
Sasha grinned that shark smile that I grew used to and hinted that the next thing out of the fearless mobster’s mouth would be something inappropriate or just reckless.
“Trust me, Wyn. Everything about me is special.”