Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) (23 page)

Her fingers slipped into his damp hair and pushed the errant, blood-encrusted locks out of her way. Starting up at his hairline, she began gently wiping the gore and sweat from his forehead. At her touch, he sighed and the ridged muscles in his shoulders and jaw softened a tiny bit.

Allie
took advantage of his eyes being shut to look at him. His lashes were a shade darker than his hair, more brown than bronze, and lay in two thick crescents over the swollen skin beneath his eyes. His full lips parted as she stroked the cloth down his face, his chest rising and falling with his even breathing. As she moved to the side of his cheek, the muscles between his brows twitched, like he was fighting to relax and stay sitting. Had no one ever taken care of him before? If that were so, it would most likely have been because of his incorrigible stubbornness, rather than a result of anyone’s neglect. She suddenly wondered what he was like as a child. Hard to picture him as small and innocent. She had a feeling he’d always been tough. She wished she could meet more of his family.

As she finished cleaning the last of his wounds, she frowned at his split lip. The gash was deep, the subcutaneous layer showing yellow and beady.
It just kept trickling blood no matter how much she dabbed at it.

“This may need stitches.” She brushed a light index finger over one tender ridge.

“Nah. Just use some of this.” Matthew placed a small bottle in her hand.

“Super glue?”

His lips twisted with a crooked grin, making the cut gap farther.

Oh, don’t do that!
It hurt her to look at it.

“Only a pussy gets stitches for a busted lip,”
a gruff reply.

She rolled her eyes—
men
—and pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth that wasn’t hurt. “Hold still, Humpty Dumpty. I’m going try to put you back together again.”

She dabbed away the fresh well of blood and then ran a line of clear liquid down the center of the cut, trying not to think of all the possible bacteria that may have accumulated in the non-sterile glue bottle. Pressing the edges together, she hoped to
heck they stuck. After a few minutes of holding it in place, though, she felt sure it wouldn’t pull apart and stood back to scrutinize her ministrations.

“Do you have something for the swelling?” she asked him.

He stood. “I’m good. I’ll grab an ice pack after I change.”

Right
. She nodded. He’d probably want to shower now.

Allie
looked around, figuring she should find Stacy, but not wanting to leave him alone.

Matthew
’s gaze settled on her mouth. When she realized she was chewing her bottom lip she stopped.

“Thank you,” he said.
“For the help with my face. And, for . . . the other stuff.”

She felt awkward; standing in front of him after seeing him cracked open to her in such an intimate and painful way. It made her shy.
“I’m here for you.” She smiled, pressed a soft kiss to the back of his knuckles. “We’re going to make this work, okay?”

***

Figuring Matthew could use some time to muddle through whatever emotions were warring inside him, Allie left to go in search of Stacy and Jon. Heaven knew Allie was on the verge of being drowned beneath her own torrent of thoughts at the moment. Unsteady legs carried her out toward the main arena. As she pushed through the locker room door, the roar of the crowd washed over her. She tucked her hands under her arms to steady their shaking.

She didn’t have far to look before she found
Stacy wedged into the corner of a hallway a few yards ahead. Stacy’s face was tight with worry, looking as stressed as Allie felt. Jon stood off to the side, towering over Stacy, his blue eyes having cooled to the color of frosted ocean water as he scanned the room. Guess Matthew’s self-inflicted beating had taken the fun out of the night for Jon, too.

Stacy
’s dark eyes met Allie’s and she clipped over while Jon trailed behind. “Are you okay?” She put her hands on Allie’s shoulders. “When we saw you two fighting we thought we should give you some privacy.” Stacy’s eyes swept up to the dark haired, bulging wall of muscle behind her. “Jon kept everyone out.”

“How is he?”
Stacy whispered.

Allie
shook her head, trying to break herself free of her shellshock. “He’s pretty messed up”—when Stacy’s face crumpled, she added—“but he agreed to therapy. That’s, at the least,
something
.” Matthew needed some kind of step into recovery at this stage; if not, he was on the road to being flat on his back, on a metal slab, within a year.

The sight of him on that mat, letting the other man
ruthlessly beat on him was going to be burned into her skull forever.

Stacy
’s eyes glossed over with tears. “I had no idea he was this bad. If I had known, maybe I could have—”

“He’s going to try,
Stacy. We’ll get him through this.” Allie squeezed her trembling hand and felt her bones, so fine and delicate, slide beneath the skin.

Moments later,
Matthew appeared. Both his eyes were swollen up like blue and yellow golf balls had been stuck under his cheek bones, his bottom lip black and puffy from the angry tear Allie had glued back together; but he looked a lot better than he had. His hair was dark brown, still damp from his shower, finger combed out of his face, but sure to flop forward again once it dried. When he walked toward them, she noticed his side shuddered beneath his tee-shirt with every step, like his body was resisting, even as his stubborn will kept him moving on like it was no big deal.

Wary eyes rested on
Stacy as he stopped in front of them. “You ready to get out of here?” His voice was a deep rasp.

Stacy
’s hand curled into a small fist and plowed into Matthew, square in his chest. “If you hadn’t already been beaten to a pulp, I swear . . .”—her fist hauled back and hit him again—“I am
so
mad at you right now.” She was trembling, eyes flashing up at him, full of lightening.

Matthew
’s body sagged under the weight of all his misery and self-loathing, shoulders rounded over his chest. “I know,” he whispered.

“Don’t you
ever
do that again. You hear me?” Stacy’s voice wavered and she had to clear her throat. Twice. Matthew pulled her into his chest and placed a kiss on the top of her head. His eyes, wide green pools of despair, found Allie’s over a ring of black curls.

Allie
grasped onto his hand and squeezed hard. She was in this with him.

A shudder trilled up his spine and his Adam’s apple jerked up and down in his throat. “Let’s get out of this place.”

***

Allie
walked into her home alone a little after midnight with the ache of a thousand years in her bones. Matthew had grudgingly agreed to call Adam’s therapist friend first thing in the morning to set up an appointment. Allie and Stacy were going to have to stay on him, though. Matthew was less than enthusiastic about seeing a shrink again.

When
Allie stepped into the little family room she stopped, observing life on another planet.

Lainie
, Jennifer, and the rest of the crew were sprawled out across the floor, their voices raised in cheers and laughter as two of the guys were locked in competition at the center of them all. Curled up on their backs, feet touching, they both had hold of a broomstick that was between them, straining to pull the other guy over their heads. Beer bottles were spread around the floor along with paper plates and a couple of gutted out pizza boxes.

The whole scene smacked of youth.

Carefree.

A
live and vibrant.

Made
Allie feel like she was a million years old.

Suddenly the dam broke that she’d been holding back on the car ride home and rivulets of hot tears leak
ed from her eyes. Not wanting to spoil the other’s fun, she quickly ran her palms over her wet face and stumbled into her bedroom. She shucked her clothes, still stained with Matthew’s blood, and considered just tossing them in the trash. She had no desire to be reminded of any of what had transpired this evening.

Or last evening
, she thought as she read her little digital clock . . . it was morning now, she supposed.

She put on a pair of sweats and a tee shirt—wanting some kind of insulation from the chill that consumed her—pulled her sheets free of her bed, and curled into as small of a ball as she could manage deep within the womb of her bedding.

Only minutes later there was a soft knock on her door and then Lainie’s voice muffled through the other side. “Are you alright, Allie?”

Allie
pulled herself up. “Come in. It’s open.”

The crack of light from the hallway flooded through her room as the door opened and
Lainie came inside.

Allie
leaned over to turn on her bedside lamp. “Hi,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she could get through a whole sentence. Her voice wobbled already, as it was.

Lainie
’s face was lined with worry. “Oh, honey. What is it?” She rushed to the side of Allie’s bed and wrapped her arms around her. The warmth of Lainie’s arms and the soft tickle of hair in Allie’s nose just did her in. Tore all of the strength she’d wrapped around her away and left her raw.

Allie
simply curled into Lainie and lost it all over her, sobs convulsing all the way through her and deep into her soul. She felt hands in her hair, soothing her, and leaned into the touch, desperate for the comfort.

“What’s wrong,
Allie? Is it your mom?”

Allie
sniffed and pulled back enough to wipe at her eyes and nose. Not that it did anything to ebb the flow of tears down her cheeks.

She was just
so
exhausted.

“No”—she cleared her throat—“Mom’s fine.”

“What is it, then?” Wide, blue eyes met hers.

“It’s been a really long week. That’s all.”

“Oh, Allie, I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I just need to sleep, I think.”
Maybe for a few hundred years.

“Thank god it’s Friday, huh?”
Lainie gave her a sad little smile.

“For sure.”
Allie sniffed again.

There was another rap at the door and
Jennifer poked her head in. When she saw the disheveled state that Allie was in, she started. “Oh. Sorry. I . . . ah . . . didn’t know—”

“It’s okay.”
Allie gave her a pathetic lift of the lips, knowing she must look like a total car wreck. She’d always been a bad crier. The red and blotchy, puffy kind.

Jennifer
fidgeted. “Okay.” She looked to Lainie. “We’re gonna take off for the night. Already cleaned up.”

“Cool.
Alright.” Lainie replied. “Mind locking up when you leave?”

“No prob.”
Jennifer’s eyes softened and turned back to Allie. “Bye, Allie.”

Once the door clicked shut again,
Lainie sighed and hugged her tighter. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Sorry I ruined your night.
”

Lainie
waved the apology aside with a hand. “Don’t even, Allie. We’d run out of beer by the time you got home, anyway. Party over, right there.” She grinned.

Allie
couldn’t help but return the smile. “Thanks for taking me in. And for putting up with me.”

“Stop, would
ya? Nothing to put up with. And, besides, I get to see the merc flash his ass anytime I want if you stick around.”

Allie
’s giggles quickly eroded into sobs. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to somehow fill the hollowness in her chest.

“Is that what this is?
Matthew?” Lainie’s lips thinned. When Allie only cried harder, Lainie added, “You want me to kick the bastard’s perfect ass?”

M
ore laughing, mixed into sobs.
Boy, was she bipolar tonight or what?

As
Allie lay down, Lainie snuggled up next to her, still stroking her hair. When her tears had dried up enough she trusted herself to speak, she whispered. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh, honey. I know.”

Allie rolled over to look at her with wide eyes. “You do?”

Lainie
’s lips quirked to the side and she nodded. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Aftershocks from her crying jag: a great shudder ran through her body as she sucked in a breath. “I don’t know how to cope with the feelings I have for him. They’re so intense. He’s like a drug. I know he’s got to be bad for me, but I can’t breathe without him.”

Lainie tucked some hair behind Allie’s ear. “Does he not treat you good? I mean, obviously he’s gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean a thing if he’s a d-bag.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she sighed.
“He’s got baggage. Like a mountain of it. And it’s crushing him.
Geeze
”—she shook her head, and laughed without humor—“how do I end up in such a crazy mess? Why can’t I be normal—have a normal relationship like you—?”