“I don’t get it.” Danny studied Paul in concern, feeling a near-desperate need to fix a situation there was no easy fix for. “What’d he want?”
“What every abuser wants,” Paul said with a mirthless laugh. “He wanted me to cry uncle. He needs the satisfaction of knowing he beat me. He lives off it.”
“He did beat you,” Danny said, his eyes wide as he gave Paul a pointed look. “Badly.”
“No, he didn’t,” Paul whispered, not sounding conceited. It was just a sadly stated fact. “He never beats me. I just let him think he does and this time I didn’t feel like playing along. I didn’t ask him to stop. I didn’t beg for mercy. I just took it silently until he and my brothers wore themselves out.”
“And he kicked you out,” Danny said, the realization dawning on him. “They know you’re stronger than them. It scared ’em.”
“What difference does it make? Evie’s gone.” Paul walked over and sat heavily on Danny’s bed. “I’m all alone in the world. I don’t know how to be normal without her.”
“And what am I?” Danny growled, his shoulders stiffening in hurt he couldn’t hide. “I coulda gone to New York,” he reminded Paul, feeling a bit too raw to care about how obvious he was being. “I don’t love fishing that much.”
Paul looked up at him, his bruised, swollen face still beautiful, his blue eyes clear and shining with a strange purity that shouldn’t exist in the gaze of a man who had lived a life as difficult as his. “Can I crash here for a few days?”
“Sure,” Danny said, forgetting his anger when he realized Paul needed him. “You can stay as long as you want.”
“I can help out, run the horses, do work on the ranch. I could help your father on construction sites. I’ll work for free and I’m gonna call the coach tomorrow and see if I can set up housing—”
“Paul Guy,” Danny snapped, cutting off his rambling. “You can stay here. You don’t have to work for it.”
“But I will,” Paul said instantly. “I don’t mind.”
“But you don’t have to.” He stepped into Paul’s personal space, reaching out to touch his shoulder in a gesture that was probably too gentle. He wasn’t surprised when Paul flinched from the touch, a look of embarrassment passing over his face as he looked away. That was probably the most heartbreaking thing Danny could imagine, someone as kindhearted as Paul not knowing how to accept something as simple as a concerned touch from a friend. Danny’s voice softened as he said, “We should get you cleaned up.”
“I’m okay,” Paul argued. “It looks worse than it is.”
“It wasn’t a question,” Danny barked, knowing Paul responded to orders as opposed to options. It was the military upbringing. It left its mark and Danny knew he had to work within it. “Get up.” He tightened his grip on Paul’s shoulder, tugging in an insistent gesture for him to stand. “We’ll get you cleaned up and then you can go to sleep.”
“Fine.” Paul stood, pulling his shirt over his head, not even wincing over the bruising that had to be excruciating. It looked as if he shouldn’t be able to move. “I really am sorry for putting you out.”
“You’re not putting me out.” Danny went to the bathroom connected to his bedroom and flipped on the light. “The joys of a codependent. We live to fix the perpetually broken. Ask my mother about it if you don’t believe me.”
“I’m not broken,” Paul said defensively.
Danny studied him as Paul walked into the bathroom, showing off a massive, beautifully muscled back covered in bruises and cigar burns. “You’re pretty broken, Paul Guy,” he sighed, knowing he needed more than the small tube of antibiotic ointment he had in his drawer. “I think I need to go to the store.”
“It’s fine,” Paul assured him as he unbuttoned his jeans in the careless manner of a man who had been playing football for most of his life. “Really, I just need a place to lay my head for a few days until I can get the housing situation worked out with the coach. I’m sure he can get me a dorm room.”
“Your coach is gonna freak if he sees you like this,” Danny said imploringly, dismayed to find his fingers were itching to fix the damage. “Please let me try and patch you up a little.”
Paul considered him for a moment, as if hearing some sort of whining desperation in Danny’s voice before he nodded. “Sure, fine, I’d appreciate it,” he said with a soft smile. “Thank you.”