“Jess…” His voice was a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…”

Any fear I’d felt was already gone, brought on by the shock of seeing him like that rather than any worry over my safety. But Manson looked down at his hand, his knuckles split and smeared with blood.

He sucked in a stuttering breath as his hands shook.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, reaching for him. “You need to —”

He flinched away from my touch. He was shaking his head, looking between his fist and then back to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked at the dogs, watching him with flattened ears. “Fuck. Shit, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.” Vincent’s voice was calm, soothing. “You’re upset, that’s okay.”

“No.” Manson flexed his knuckles, watching the blood drip down his fingers. “No, this isn’t fucking okay. Nothing about this is okay.”

He wrenched open the front door. Lucas started forward. “Hey, Manson, come on, you don’t have to —”

“I need some air,” he said hoarsely. He looked at me again, as if there was so much more he wanted to say. But then he winced and turned away, slipping out the front door and slamming it behind him.

I immediately tried to follow him. But Vincent caught my arm before I could open the door, saying gently, “Give him time, just give him time.” He held me against him, rubbing my back and somehow slowing my pounding heart. “He’s scared. He never wanted you to see him like that.”

“Then I have to go talk to him,” I said fiercely. I didn’t know what the hell I’d say, or if it would even help at all. But I couldn’t hide in the house anymore. At least Manson had Vincent and Jason with him when he faced his dad. Whatever he was facing now, he was trying to do it alone and that didn’t feel right.

Vincent loosened his hold but kept his arm around me. From the kitchen, Jason said, “Don’t worry about it, Jess. This isn’t your issue to deal with, it’ll be fine.”

“It is my issue,” I snapped without meaning to, but it wasn’t from anger. I just needed them to understand. “I’m not some delicate little flower, okay? We made a deal. I’m yours until my debt is paid and I meant that. Yours. But if I’m yours, then you’re all mine too.” I looked between them, trying to steady the worried shake in my words. “I’m not on the outside anymore. I’m part of this, all of it — even the scary fucked-up parts. I need to talk to him. Please.”