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than that had to stay hidden.

His eyes widened since my silence lasted too long.

“Been a little busy since it all went down, G-Rock. Besides, I knew you had to work and—”

“That’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t want—”

He stepped closer, and his scent hit me. It was the men’s Ocean scent from Bath and Body Works. I knew because he’d asked me to grab it for him a few months back when he had heard I was hitting the mall. “Avoid that place like the plague, Cassie, so I’d owe you big time if you’d do that for me,” he had said.

Now he cut me off to say, “I don’t fuckin’ care about what you ‘didn’t want,’ Cassandra. Brock said there was gunfire. A fuckin’ gun goes off in your apartment, you call me.”

I should’ve paid more attention in biology, but then again it wasn’t like adrenaline spikes were critical knowledge for general bio; so whether it was my adrenaline drop-off or just the fact that Gabe rehashed it in a blunt way, tears sprang to my eyes and a sob forced its way out of my throat.

“Shit,” he muttered, and he pulled me to him in what had to be the best hug... ever.

Dammit! This was not where I needed to be.

I took a deep breath and got myself together. “Kaylee came in before anything really bad happened. She has a concealed carry permit, and she’s the one who fired the gun. Guess she’s a great shot because he moved to disarm her and she shot just in front of his toe. Which stopped him dead. She also did this while on the phone with 911.”

“Shit,” he breathed.

He took a hard look at my cheek, then his finger came up and traced the outside of where I suspected a bruise had formed. “Who would do this to you?” His gentle tone left me aching.

I pressed my lips together, but Gabe’s eyes widened again demanding an answer.

I sighed and pulled at his hold, but he shook his head. “Tell me, Cassandra.”

“Seems my ex-boyfriend lives across the breezeway.”

“The fuck?”

I didn’t want to tell him anything else, and hoped that would suffice.

His gruff voice went stern. “Cassie. I asked, the fuck? Why would he hit you?”

I looked to the side as I said, “He saw you leave this morning.”

“Say that again,” he whispered.

I shook my head, before I looked into his aquamarine eyes. “He assumed you and I had finally slept together. And, that’s why he showed up.”

“And you let him in?”

“I didn’t intend for him to come in.”

His patience slipped. “What the hell does that mean? How would he get in if you didn’t want him to?”

“I was a little off my game because not every day does an ex-boyfriend push his way in here by shoving me in the stomach so hard I back into the island.”

Gabe’s arms fell away from me. One hand plunged into his hair, and not for the first time I wondered what product he used because his hair sprung right back into place. His other hand went to his hip. Then I felt his vibe in the room, and it was bad. At the look in his eyes, I was glad there wasn’t anything around he could throw.

“He shoved his way in here? He shoved you to get in here?”

“Gabe,” I said in a soothing voice.

“Explain to me how there’s a fuckin’ bruise the size of a fuckin’ softball on your cheek.”

I shook my head. “Isn’t that obvious? He got physical.”

“Tell me,” he clipped out.

I wanted to ask what was going on here. This made no sense. He behaved as if we were an item, but we weren’t. And since Kaylee wanted to blame herself for this, I could only imagine what Gabe wanted to do.

“Cassandra,” he said behind clenched teeth.

“He backhanded me when I told him the only person who lived across the hall was Stan. Then he did it again when I screamed as he hauled me toward the couch. Kaylee walked in after that.”

“Jesus!” he yelled.

“It’s okay, Gabe.”

His face turned to me so fast I thought I was seeing things. “It’s not fuckin’ okay, Cass. No man treats a woman that way. And for damn sure, no man does it because of some fuckin’ problem he has with me.”

“Gabe,” I started, but he leaned toward me and I shut up.

“You pressin’ charges?”

“Yes, and so is Kaylee. Her uncle, and I believe her father, are both in law enforcement, so I suspect Asher is fucked.”

His head jolted back and he blinked as a strange expression crossed his face.

“I don’t know what’s worse. That you’re droppin’ f-bombs or that you actually dated an asshole named ‘Asher.’”

I shoved lightly at his shoulder. “Don’t be like that. Plenty of other guys named Asher out there, and they don’t manhandle women.”

He looked around, spotted the blender and shook his head.

“Where’s your stuff, Cass? No way in hell you’re stayin’ here tonight.”

“Why not? He’s been arrested.”

“You’re not staying here.”

I crossed my arms on my chest. “I’m not leaving, Gabe. Hell if he’s getting in here again.”

“Yeah. Because you’re staying at my place.”

I looked to the door and back to him. “No. I’m not. He’s not going to hit me, and then make me leave my home. It’ll be fine.”

He leaned toward me again. “You’re comin’ to my place. You sleep in my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch. I won’t be in until after three. You wake up at eight or whatever, I’ll hit my bed then.”

This man had no idea the torture it would be to sleep in his bed. The pain was bad enough seeing him first thing in the morning here. To see him first thing in the morning at his place would be excruciating.

“Cecilia will be home soon. You can hang with her. Brock’s got a night shift. Now, pack a bag. You’re comin’ with me, and you can even bring your slushy with you if you want.”

“She’s an alcoholic, I don’t think—”

“She is, but she won’t

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