Page 121 of Fang
Viv shakes her head. “You hush with that. This is what family does. You would be on this side if it was one of us sitting there.”
She’s right. I would be. Still, I feel like a burden.
Bailey takes out a first aid kit and goes through all my cuts and bruises. Then she looks in my eyes with a light.
“I don’t think you have a concussion from the accident, but Doc is coming by to check you out just to be sure,” she tells me.
A knock on the door has them stepping back. Viv opens it to show Fang on the other side.
I burst into tears again. He rushes forward, dropping to his knees in front of me.
“I’m so sorry, Cami. So fucking sorry,” he tells me, his head buried into my stomach.
I hear the door close behind him, leaving us alone.
“Jensen,” I sob.
“I’m here. I’m sorry I lost control like that. Savage said you were out cold, but I don’t know if you saw anything. If you did, I’m sorry. You should have never had to see me do something so barbaric. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I probably added to your trauma. You must hate me.”
“You came for me,” I manage between a sob. “You saved me.”
He pulls back, cupping my cheek as he wipes my tears away.
“I will always come for you. Always and forever,” he tells me.
I suck in a breath, trying to calm my crying.
“I love you. So much,” I tell him.
His face softens. “I love you, little dancer. Please tell me you forgive me. I’m going to get you all the therapy after this.”
I chuckle, feeling better. “There is nothing to forgive. It’s true, I don’t like violence, but sometimes it’s warranted. If you hadn’t shown up, he would’ve never stopped. You stopped him from ever hurting me again. I can’t be mad at you for that. I guess the difference is that your violence is because you want to protect me, not hurt me. I can live with that.”
“Thank fuck. I couldn’t have let you go. I would have stalked you,” he admits as he lays his head in my lap.
I run my hand through his hair. After a few moments, he looks up at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nod.
“Why is the floor wet?”
That sends me into a fit of laughter.
“The girls helped me shower,” I tell him.
He smirks. “I’m a jealous guy, little dancer. I don’t share. Not even with other females.”
“It wasn’t like that. It was more motherly. Like they wanted to take care of me.”
His smirk softens into a smile. “I know. They worry about you. They love you almost as much as I do.”
“Thank you for bringing them to me. For giving me this life.”
He pulls me in to kiss him. “Thank you for being mine.”
I don’t know how long we sit like that in the bathroom together, but I never want it to end.
