Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) by Shana Vanterpool

kid was it?
    Tyler Bachmen got around. That was no surprise. Bach and I used to sneak into the backyard and watch him with other women in the shed. I guessed keeping that in mind, it wasn’t completely unbelievable that there was a child out there with his DNA .
    “You don’t have to come,” Bach said, sitting down in the front seat. “I promise. When do I lie to you?” He sighed and closed his door, giving Jona a nod. Jona walked over to a black Mustang and got in, speeding away. “I love you too,” he promised, his tone strong. “I’ll call you tomorrow. And don’t spend all night worrying. I know how you are. I’ll be fine. Kiss Aubrey for me. And tell her Daddy said hi.”
    “And I love her,” I added.
    “And he loves her. Bye, babe.” He hung up and dropped his phone.
    “Is Jona going to go handle him?” He nodded, eyes burning as they landed on Justine smoking a cigarette on the lawn. “Does Harley know that part?” He shook his head. “Is she coming?” Another shake of his head. My stomach fell in disappointment. It went against everything for me to still long for this woman. “I’m confused as shit,” I admitted, leaning my head back.
    “Sometimes so am I.” He started his truck and pulled out of the driveway, making a U-turn at the end of the street so he could avoid the crowded frat houses. “Welcome home, douchebag.”
    I smirked, keeping my eyes on the dark roads and headlights. “I’m used to this shit storm.” I pulled the visor down and continued to look into it as he drove, waiting for the girl to finally show her face. If I could see her face, then maybe tonight could make sense. It didn’t make sense right now.
    Because deep down I knew who was in that backseat.
    She was good.
    She was light.
    She was Bach’s.
    And because of that, she was mine.
    When we got to the beach house, I stared up at it in relief and dismay. Maybe if it were different I wouldn’t feel so different. But it wasn’t. It was the same. Body propped up by stilts with Crystal Beach as a backdrop. We were so close to the water that when I opened the door, the air coming off of it was chilled and pungent of the ocean.
    “I’m going to carry her upstairs. I’ll get your crutches out of the back when I’m done.”
    “I’ll get my own damn crutches. Take care of your sister.”
    He grunted and moved into the back. “Sweets?” he murmured, tone uncharacteristically soft. “Wake up.” She whimpered. “Should I take her to the hospital?”
    Turn over damn it! “No,” I answered, because something started to nag at me. Bach said she’d been able to scream. Why wasn’t she screaming anymore? “Roll her over.”
    “Why?”
    “Do it.”
    Bach gently grasped her wrist and pulled her until she was on her back. He removed the hair from her face and then that’s when I saw it. There was a bruise under her right eye. It was already starting to form. When Bach figured it out, he released her, walked away, and screamed at the water.
    I could see her face now.
    Her eyes were closed, and her lids were smeared with dark pink eye shadow. Her eyelashes were thick with mascara. Some of it was smudged on her bruise and in the corner. Her face was small, housing petite features I could only describe as adorable. I cringed during my assessment but kept going. After adorable it was all downhill from there anyway. Her skin was creamy and smooth, filled with just the hint of a tan, as if she didn’t spend much time in the sun this summer. Her hair was splayed around her head, thick and blond. There was a red mark on her bottom lip. I wondered if she’d bitten it. Blood crusted around the wound, staining her chin.
    As I stared a sense of fury slowly overtook me. How could anyone want to hurt her? She looked so small and fragile in the backseat. I’ve done dirty filthy things to women, but they were just like me, they wanted it. We were filthy together. I’d never hurt one. I’d never take something this good and