Page 61 of Pretend You Love Me

“He’s already unconscious. I’ll take it from here,” he yells, still holding me back. I’m not ready to end this fight. “Go to your girlfriend, Kip.”

I look up. I don’t think Ginger has moved or blinked. I jump up.

“Ginger, are you hurt?” Hawk says.

She doesn’t answer.

I step closer. “Are you hurt?”

Her face is pale. Her eyes are darting around. Her hand touches her neck, and then she shakes her head.

“It’s okay. It’s over.” I say.

“Did you know him?” Hawk asks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

“Nothing - other than did she know him?”

“Are you suggesting...”

“He was at the bar,” she cuts me off. Her voice is soft. She’s not looking at me; I really wish she’d fucking look at me.

“The bar? Our bar? Tonight?” I’m too loud. She flinches.

“He was trying to flirt with me.”

She looks at me for the first time - her eyes pleading. “I swear I didn’t encourage him.”

My stomach goes into knots. Why does she feel like she needs to say this? “Of course, you didn’t.”

“Take her home, Kip. I’ll get her official statement later. I need to take this guy in.”

The bastard is laying on the ground - not moving. I can see that he’s breathing though.

I take Ginger’s hand and lead her to my truck. She doesn’t say anything. She’s barely blinking.

We’re about halfway home when she says, “I need to throw up.”

I pull the truck over, and she’s out the door before it’s even completely stopped. I jump out and run to the other side. She’s bent over, throwing up.

I hold her hair and rub her back. When she stands up, she’s shaking so hard it makes me feel sick to see.

“I’m okay now,” she says. I help her back into the truck, and we ride the rest of the way in silence.

“What can I do?” I ask as soon as we’re in the house.

“Stay here.” She grabs my hand. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

I don’t answer right away. Not because I don’t want to, but because she specifically told me we weren’t sleeping over the other day.

“Please.” Her voice falters.

“Of course.” I follow her back to the bedroom.

She slips out of her clothes and crawls into bed in her underwear. I do the same.

“Spoon me,” she says, rolling to her side. I pull her back into my body and wrap my arms around her. She’s still shaking. My face is in her hair, and I whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry.”