Page 68 of Crash

A hand came down on my shoulder from behind.

Instinct took over. I spun and slammed the silver bowl on top of his head so hard that he wobbled and dropped to the ground, where blueberry batter splattered all over the floor, the pristine cabinets, and the countertops.

The guy looked vaguely familiar. Handsome, with piercing green eyes now narrowed in pain, broad shoulders straining against a business suit that looked like it cost a fortune, but was now stained in blueberries and what appeared to be blood.

Grabbing a butcher knife, I held it out in front of me, my heart pounding in my ears louder than the bass from the speakers.

“Jesus,” the guy snarled, wiping batter from his eyes to reveal a murderous glower.

“Get out.” My voice was steadier than I felt.

He glared at me, rubbing a now-bleeding spot on the side of his head. Based on the amount of blood seeping between his manicured fingers, the guy could use some stitches. His zillion-dollar watch was now splattered with purple goo too.

Had he lifted it from his last break-in?

“Why the fuck did you hit me?”

“News flash: women don’t want to get assaulted by home invaders. Leave, or I’ll cut your balls off.” I gestured with the knife to emphasize my point.

Blood dripped over the batter in a grotesque kaleidoscope of tans, crimson, and purples.

How dare the guy look angry at me for defending myself!

“That’s the last time I’m doing Blake a favor,” the guy grumbled, getting to his feet with as much dignity as one could muster while covered in blueberry batter.

I froze. “Blake?”

“Just perfect.” The guy pulled his hand away, which was soaked in blood. “Now I’m going to have to stop and get stapled up.Andchange my damn suit.”

“Blake sent you?” The knife lowered slightly in my grip.

“How the hell did you think I got inside? Magic?”

Well, I hadn’t had time to think actually. Just react.

“I’ll be sure to tell him you’re just fine.” The guy grabbed a handful of paper towels, wadded them up, and pressed them against his head wound.

“He sent you to check on me,” I realized.

God, of course he did. My phone was charging in the bedroom; he was probably trying to get ahold of me, and now that I was looking, I did recognize blueberry face.

“You’re Jace,” I realized.

One of Ryker’s college buddies, one I hadn’t seen in ages. Maybe if I’d bumped into him in a coffee shop, I would have recognized him faster than, you know, in the middle of fight or flight.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were …” Not important. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“I got it,” he snarled, holding his palm out to me to keep me at bay. “Next time, answer your phone, okay? And maybe turn down the music so you can hear someone announcing themselves.”

“I’m sorry,” I called out after him as he walked toward the elevator, leaving a trail of blueberry footprints on Blake’s pristine hardwood floors.

But he just held up his hand like,Whatever.

I sighed, staring at this mess. Blueberry-staining batter mixed with a little blood was splattered all over the ground and walls. Blake was going to be furious. And somehow, I’d managed to assault one of the most powerful businessmen in the city with breakfast ingredients.

BLAKE

I opened the emergency room door to find Jace. Blood spilled down his temple and soaked his shirt—a custom Armani embellished with purple stains visible beneath the blood.