Chapter Two
Henry groaned as he opened his eyes. Fuck, he must have drunk too much last night and gotten into a fight.
“Great, you’re awake.”
He knew that voice. What the fuck was Lydia doing near him? Lifting his head up, he groaned at the sudden explosion in his head. The events of the previous night swarmed him, and he sat up taking in his surroundings. Last night he’d not recognized any of the men who’d attacked them. They’d gotten to him before he could draw his weapon. Henry had lost his temper when he saw one of the men attack Lydia.
Glancing around him, he saw he was on a bed with one of his hands tied to the headboard.
“What the fuck?” He saw Lydia was sitting with her hand bound in the same position as his, and they were both on the same bed. There were a couple of lights in the musty smelling room.
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” She rested her head back, and he saw the dark purple bruise on her cheek.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Do you even know who did this or why?” she asked, rolling her head toward him. “My head is really hurting, and I stink.”
“No, I’ve not got a clue who they are or what they want.” His head and ribs were killing him. One of his hands was free and he lifted his shirt to see the bruising spreading across his chest and stomach. He’d put up a fight, but three against one had been insane odds to win. Henry winced at the pain.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I will be. I’ve had a lot worse done to me before.”
“They were not exactly friendly, were they?”
He kept staring at her face. When he got his hands on the man who hurt her, he was going to kill him.
“No, they weren’t. Does it hurt?” he asked, reaching out to cup her bruised face.
“It hurts everywhere. He threw me against the wall.”
The low lighting made it a nightmare to look, but he wanted to check her out in case she had any internal bleeding.
“I want you to shuffle off the bed and stand up. Lift your dress up and show me where it hurts,” he said.
“I’m not getting naked for you to mock me.”
“I won’t mock you. I need to know that you’re okay. Please, do as I ask.”
“No, I’m not showing you my fat body.” She glared at him, the fire spitting at him from her brown eyes.
“Look, you’re not fucking fat, okay? I said some mean shit to you to get you to leave. You’re not fat. You’re perfect. Now hike your dress up so I can see if you’re hurt.” He’d been mean on purpose. The scent of lavender had invaded his senses the moment she stood beside him in the bar. He didn’t like how easily she affected him. Seeing the barman who didn’t have a single scar on his body or within his body, Henry had lashed out. Men like Richard the barman could have whatever he wanted. For so long he’d been satisfying his need with faceless whores whom he paid to give him what he wanted.
Jealousy.
The emotion had taken him completely by surprise, and he hated how vulnerable it made him.
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m deadly serious. I got rock hard from seeing you in that dress, and believe me, I’d come inside a whore’s mouth twenty minutes before I saw you.” She groaned, looking sick. “Yeah, I know I’m disgusting, but this is who I am.”#p#分页标题#e#
“I don’t need to know about your sex life. I’ve never been mean to you.”
“You tried to break Donna and Caleb up.”
“She was innocent to everything he’s ever done. I was looking out for her. Why can’t you see that?” Lydia asked. “You’ve hated me from the moment you shot and killed Darren. This has nothing to do with me.”
“Just stand up and show me your fucking body so I can stop worrying. I don’t want to have to be on Caleb and Donna’s shit list because you’re dead.”
She growled but did as he asked, moving to the edge of the bed. He saw her stand and slowly work her tied hand across the headboard.
“You better keep your nasty as shit comments to yourself.” She reached across her body and started to work her dress up her body.
He was a horrible man as he started to get aroused. She wore silk stockings and suspenders that went to her mid-thigh. The small black panties settled over her crotch, and he would have given anything to see if she was bare or had a small thatch of curls. She was turning him the fuck on with need.
Lydia presented her back to him. “Well, can you see anything?” she asked.
He’d not been paying attention. The panties she wore were in fact a thong. The thin piece of material nestled between the cheeks of her ass, and he’d give anything to be that small piece of fabric. Forcing himself to look away from the tempting curves, he checked out her back. She was badly bruised from being thrown against the wall, but he couldn’t see any signs of her bleeding or damage. He was no doctor, but through his years as a fighter, he’d learned some valuable lessons.