Bouncing Back (Wilde's Book 10)

by L. A. Witt

  “What about us?” Julien’s forehead creased. “What if he comes back with another knife? Or a gun?” He wasn’t being argumentative or hostile. His voice was filled with genuine concern, and fuck me, but I didn’t have an answer for him.

  Liam wiped a hand over his face. “Having him arrested tonight might not stop that anyway. He’ll be out on bail by morning. Even if Elliott and Wilde’s press charges, there’s no way he’ll do much time. Especially if he doesn’t already have a rap sheet.” He turned to me, eyebrows up.

  I shrugged. “I have no idea if he’s been arrested before or not.”

  Julien swore under his breath. “So we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”

  “Kind of, yeah.” Liam’s voice was full of resignation. “I need to protect my people, but I don’t want to put an abused partner in danger either. Fuck.”

  Julien chewed his lip. “If this shit keeps up, I don’t know if I want Chris to keep working here. Or if I want to myself.”

  Liam nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that. Believe me. You want to protect Chris just like Elliott wants to protect Samir.”

  Julien and I exchanged looks. I could see my own fear in his eyes. He could hold his own and beat the shit out of Jesse if need be, just like I could. But what about Chris? What about any of the other bartenders? And it wasn’t like bouncers were made of titanium. Knives or bullets could kill us just as effectively as they could anyone else.

  “I think we’re going to need to beef up security at the door,” Liam said. “No one gets in without an ID. Not even regulars. If Jesse shows up, he’s not getting into the club. It won’t solve the problem, but it’ll keep him and his weapon du jour out of the crowd.”

  Julien and I were both nodding.

  “Maybe we should talk to Seattle PD,” Julien said. “Have them drop in a couple of times a night.”

  Liam grimaced but nodded. “Might not be a bad idea. For right now, let’s deal with him.” He gestured sharply at the office. “Get him the hell out of here. Then, we’ll figure it out the rest.”

  ~*~

  By the time Jesse had been escorted off the premises and warned—again—about trespassing, it was last call. I was exhausted, and Julien and Liam both looked ready to collapse. I was sorely tempted to text Samir and bow out of seeing him tonight, but… No, I needed to see him. I needed to be absolutely sure he was all right, and even if I didn’t have the energy for sex, I could at least be there with him in case Jesse showed up in the middle of the night.

  At two-thirty, I clocked out, texted Samir that I was on my way, and headed for the door.

  “Hey, Elliott?” When I turned around, Liam’s brow was pinched. “Come in as late as you need to tomorrow night. If you need the night off, just say so. Take care of yourself, all right?”

  I nodded. “Will do. Thanks, boss.”

  I hated that Liam had firsthand experience with dating a guy like Jesse, and that he worked with enough ex-military bouncers to be well aware of how things like this could trigger PTSD, but I was grateful for his awareness. There was no telling how I’d feel tomorrow, so knowing I could bail on work if I needed to gave me one less thing to worry about.

  As I started my car, I glanced in the rearview. Fuck. Even in the streetlights, the deepening bruise was hard to miss. There would be no pretending I hadn’t been involved in some kind of altercation.

  Gnawing the inside of my cheek, I backed out of the parking space, and my stomach roiled as I continued toward Samir’s place. I debated telling him the truth. I didn’t like the idea of lying to him, not even by omission, but I didn’t want to scare him either. So was it better to give him a heads-up that his ex was still behaving like a fucking lunatic? Or not give him another reason to lose sleep? Besides, I’d be there with him tonight if Jesse showed up, so at least he’d be safe. Right?

  Okay, maybe I needed to sleep on this first. My heart pounded. My face throbbed. I was still rattled from the fight, adrenaline still crackling along my nerve endings because I’d been a little too close to the wrong end of a knife. It was going to be a rough night anyway—I could already feel the PTSD stirring in my brain. I needed to focus on holding myself together and coping with this before I would be any good for Samir.

  So I’d sleep as best I could tonight. Probably sleep some more tomorrow. Then I’d tell Samir what had happened. Or rather, who had happened. It wasn’t like I could hide that I’d been sucker-punched. Tonight I could explain what happened without naming names, and I could sleep beside him in case Jesse decided to get cute, and then tomorrow… Tomorrow I could tell him what had really happened.

  It wasn’t ideal. I felt guilty just thinking about it.

  But what the hell could I do?

  Someone tell me the best way to handle this without scaring Samir more than I have to.

  Nothing came to me, and by the time I reached Samir’s place, I still had no idea what the best approach was. Apparently sleeping on it and telling him the truth tomorrow was the winner, because an alternative hadn’t fallen out of the sky.

  With my gut in knots, I walked up to Samir’s front porch. I tapped my knuckle on the door, and Shouka immediately started barking and thundering down the hall. The sound of the big dog made me feel a little better. Even if I hadn’t been here tonight, the enormous rottie would be, and as a bonus, Jesse was terrified of her.

  “I know you’re excited, kiddo.” Samir was laughing. “But if you don’t calm down, I can’t let him in.” Shouka woofed. He snapped his fingers. She stood down, but even through the door I could almost feel her shaking with excitement.

  Samir smiled, but then he did a double take and his eyes widened. “Oh my God. What happened?”

  “Just another idiot drunk.” I gingerly touched the bruise. “He zigged, I zagged, and…” And I feel guilty as hell not telling you the whole truth quite yet. Fortunately, Shouka picked that moment to whine and wiggle, so I crouched to say hello to her. I didn’t think I’d ever been happier to see her giant face.

  Between you and me, we’ll keep Samir safe, okay?

  She slurped my hand, so I took that as a yes. Chuckling, I tousled her ears, then stood again.

  Samir’s features were still taut with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need some ice or—”

  “I’m fine.” I cupped his face and kissed him softly. “It comes with the job. Trust me—I’ve had worse.”

  “So have I. Still…”

  I shuddered at the thought of him having had worse, especially since it had likely come from the same place. I wrapped my arms protectively around him and kissed him again. “I’m fine. I promise.”

  He pursed his lips as he touched my chin—the unbruised part—and turned my head a little. “That’s a wicked bruise, El. Are you sure you didn’t damage your teeth or—”

  “Doc.” I smiled as I took his hand off my chin and brought it to my lips instead. “I’m fine. Pobably can’t do much with my mouth for a night or two, but I’ll take it.”

  He pushed out a breath, then finally returned the smile. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.” He cleared his throat and nodded toward the kitchen. “You hungry or anything?”

  I shrugged. “I’m probably okay.”

  “Well, I need to feed the critters so they don’t wake us up at the crack of dawn.”

  I followed him into the kitchen, and while he wrangled food dishes for his pets, I wondered if my guilt was going to eat me alive. What if something happened between now and when I actually told Samir the truth? What if Jesse went by the clinic? Or showed up at the house before I came over tomorrow night?

  I stared at the hallway as if Jesse was going to come barging in out of nowhere. Was Samir safer knowing his ex hadn’t given up? Or should I at least give him tonight? I’d be here. I could keep him safe. Assuming Jesse didn’t show up when I was right in the middle of a nightmare-turned-flashback or—

  “Hey.” Samir touched my arm, and before I could stop myself, I jumped. That di
d nothing to ease the concern in his expression. “El. Talk to me. And don’t tell me you’re okay, because you obviously aren’t.” There was a hint of warning in both his tone and his eyes. He was genuinely worried, but he also wasn’t in the mood to play games.

  “Okay. Okay.” I exhaled, and though it was a struggle, I made myself hold his gaze. “It wasn’t just a rowdy drunk tonight.”

  Samir folded his arms loosely across his chest like he was trying to ward off a cold wind. “Okay?”

  “It was…” I couldn’t handle his scrutiny anymore, and I stared at the floor between us instead. “Look, it—”

  “It was Jesse, wasn’t it?”

  I jerked my head up and looked at him again. “How did you know?”

  Samir released a long breath, shoulders sagging but arms still tight across his chest. “Why else would you be so cagey about it?”

  My own shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. The whole thing rattled me, and I didn’t want to freak you out. To be honest, I was giving myself tonight to just deal with it. You know…” I tapped my temple. “Then I was going to tell you. I promise.”

  His lips pulled tight. “Is it fucking with your PTSD?”

  I nodded slowly. “A little, yeah.”

  Samir sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. Then he came closer and pulled me into a hug. “God, I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” I held him to me, squeezing my eyes shut as relief washed over me. “I’m the one who didn’t tell—”

  “Because you have enough to deal with,” he whispered. “You don’t need my asshole ex on top of it.”

  “No one needs that asshole.”

  Samir actually laughed, patting my back gently before he let me go. “I’d ask what happened tonight, but I’m not sure I want to know the details.”

  “Probably not, no.”

  “What happened afterward, though? I’m assuming he’s in jail?”

  “He’s…” I leaned against the counter and hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans. “Liam, Julien, and I debated what to do with him, but we finally just let him go.”

  Samir’s eyebrows shot upward. “You let him go? Are you crazy?”

  “What else could we do?” Just talking about it drained me. Made me feel every bit of energy I’d expended trying to subdue that motherfucker. “We… We were all afraid the second he was released, he’d come after you.”

  Samir’s lips parted. Then some color drained from his face. Sagging against the counter, he blew out a breath. “I’d love to tell you he wouldn’t, but…”

  I put my hands on his shoulders. “I wanted him in jail, believe me. But not if it means you getting hurt.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Tell me what I should do if this happens again,” I said softly. “I just want to keep you safe.”

  He nodded again and finally met my gaze. “Call the cops. If he messes with me, I’ll do the same, but I mean, anything will make him escalate. Get him arrested and he’ll get pissed. Let it slide and he’ll think he can do whatever he wants. That’s how his mind works. At least if we call the cops, it’ll establish a pattern.” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe someday it’ll be enough of a pattern for them to keep him in jail.”

  I bit back a comment about how long it had taken for Liam’s ex to finally spend any length of time in jail, especially since it hadn’t been that long at all. At least that asshole had finally found something else to do and left Liam and his husband alone. We should be so lucky.

  Sighing, Samir wrapped his arms around me and leaned his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry my ex hurt you tonight. And I’m really glad you’re here now.”

  I kissed his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  For the longest time, we just stood there. The room wasn’t exactly silent—not with two cats and a dog chowing down by the fridge—but we were.

  Finally, I said, “Want to just call it a night?”

  “I don’t see myself sleeping any time soon.”

  “Same.” I stroked his cheek. “But we might as well at least try.”

  Samir nodded, stubble hissing across my shirt. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He drew back, then lifted his chin for a soft kiss. “Come on.”

  It was the first time we’d gotten into bed together with absolutely no inkling of wanting to fool around. I couldn’t read his mind, but I could read his body language pretty damned well, and he moved like he was too exhausted to breathe, never mind go through the motions of getting undressed.

  Finally stripped down to our boxers, we climbed into bed, and I molded myself to his back. Holding him close, I kissed the side of his neck.

  Neither of us said anything.

  And neither of us slept for shit.

  Chapter 14

  Samir

  What the fuck? I thought I blocked you.

  I stabbed my laptop’s touchpad to open the email from Jesse. Oh, of course—he had yet another email address. Probably the same one he’d used to connect with all his side pieces.

  I was about to delete the email without even reading it, but a line caught my eye.

  You really like men who can throw a punch, don’t you?

  My blood turned cold. What did that mean?

  There was a link below the text. A link to a video. The sick feeling in my stomach wasn’t going to go away until I figured out what this was about, so I held my breath and pressed Play.

  The video came to life, showing a crowded club and two people having a confrontation, and my blood turned even colder. Even with the darkness and the disco lights, not to mention the shaky camera, I instantly recognized the two men.

  Jesse.

  And Elliott.

  There was no denying it was them in the video. I knew their faces. I knew their voices. That wasn’t some random dude who happened to look like Jesse facing off with a bouncer who happened to kind of look like Elliott. And the fact that it had clearly been taken at Wilde’s… Well, that didn’t leave much room for pretending it was someone else.

  For a few seconds, they were just glaring at each other and snarling words I couldn’t make out. Jesse might have been imposing on his own, but not next to Elliott. Elliott was big enough he could’ve snapped him in half.

  And as the video continued, I wondered if that was exactly what he’d planned to do.

  Nausea crashed through me as I remembered the bruise on Elliott’s face. He’d said it had come from Jesse. Was this video—

  Right then, Elliott lunged at Jesse. Everything was shaky and impossible to focus on for a few seconds, but when the camera steadied, Elliott had Jesse laid out on the floor. Something hit Elliott’s jaw—an elbow or a fist; it happened too fast to say for sure—and a split second later, he had Jesse flat on his chest, his own elbow pinning Jesse’s head to the floor. My ex’s face was contorted with pain, and though he flailed as he begged Elliott to let him go, he didn’t struggle.

  The video cut off abruptly.

  I sat back in my desk chair, wondering if I really was going to throw up.

  I’d known Elliott had been in a scuffle with Jesse. He’d hesitated to admit it, but he finally had, and I’d accepted that he hadn’t wanted me to worry.

  What I hadn’t considered was that he’d been cagey because he’d been the first to make a move.

  My stomach roiled. I’d long since turned off the video, but I could still see it in my head. Could still see Elliott lunging at Jesse. Though Jesse had gotten in a hit—enough of one to leave a hell of a bruise—Elliott had had the advantage almost the entire time. He was bigger. He was stronger.

  And he’d made the first move. They’d been exchanging words, and then Elliott had gone hands-on.

  It was his job, I reminded myself. He wasn’t just being violent for the hell of it.

  But had he been excessive? Over the top? Wasn’t he supposed to just subdue people who were already violent, not be the first to get physical?

  I swallowed bile. Had he
lost his temper because it was Jesse? Or worse, what if he’d lost it because he’d been provoked and it didn’t matter by whom?

  How do I know I won’t provoke him like that?

  A memory flashed through my mind of Elliott slamming Jesse against my refrigerator the night I’d asked him to help me kick him out. It hadn’t been unprovoked that time, but now I had two instances of Elliott getting physical with Jesse. That… That was a pattern. Right?

  My heart pounded and panic skittered across my nerve endings. Was this why Wilde’s hadn’t had Jesse arrested? Because Elliott would have gone to jail too? Or maybe Elliott only since it could be argued that Jesse had hit him in self-defense?

  A knock at my office door almost sent me tumbling out of my chair. I put a hand to my chest and exhaled, feeling like an idiot, and tried to keep my voice steady as I said, “Come in.”

  The door opened and Vanessa came in. She had a stack of charts and manila envelopes in her hand, and she opened her mouth to speak but paused. “You okay, doc?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m…” I glanced at the screen. “I’m okay.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  I cleared my throat and gestured at the charts and envelopes. “Need me to look at those?”

  “Oh. Right.” She shifted her gaze to them as if she’d forgotten they even existed. “Just some lab results.”

  I took the stack from her. “Okay. I’ll read them over now.”

  Vanessa nodded, but she was still eyeing me. “Off the record—what’s up?”

  Staring at the folders, I swallowed. Though Vanessa was my employee, we had a pretty good relationship. Sometimes we talked about personal things off the record, and we’d both confided in each other over time. I honestly wondered if I’d have made it through everything with Jesse without her.

  Finally, I sighed and sat back. “Off the record?”

  “Always.” She sat down in one of the chairs. Eyes wide with concern, she propped her elbows on the desk. “What’s up?”

  I moistened my lips. “So, Elliott came home last night with a wicked bruise. Apparently Jesse showed up at Wilde’s.”