Where did he go?

After our dinner, he took me to the bedroom and made love to me until I was exhausted and couldn’t move a limb. With his gentle touches and sweet whispers in my ear, I had found myself in a peaceful sleep.

But now he wasn’t here.

Ignoring the discomfort down there, I got up and put on his T-shirt, the one he threw on the floor earlier during our hot session. Padding out of the room, I went to the living room and then the kitchen. Not finding him there, I checked the other rooms. But to no avail.

“Ace?”

Silence.

My gaze went to the narrow hallway that led to the library, gym, and his office. Biting my lip, I trudged through the hallway and came to a halt in front of the gym. Through the gap beneath the door, I could see the lights were on.

I frowned.

What was he doing here at midnight?

I pushed the door open and walked inside. “Ace—”

But I was cut off by the scene before me.

FIFTY-SIX: FEARS

Sweat trickled down his strong back along with the tensing and flexing of his shoulders while he was engrossed in killing his massive punching bag.

Only the sound of his ragged breathing and punches echoed throughout the gym.

But what shocked me was the bloody spots on the punching bag.

Rage boiled inside my veins. My fists clenched. He was doing it again.

“Ace! Stop it!”

His movements stilled. His broad shoulders rose and fell with every heavy breath he took as he turned his head to me. Dark, stormy gray eyes met my turquoise ones.

Striding closer, I grasped his hands. A gasp left me at the sight. They were worse than I’d ever seen before. They weren’t just bruised, they were bloody.

“What the hell you’re doing!” My eyes burned with tears as I held his gaze. “Have you lost it? You’re bleeding! How many times do I have to tell you not to do this! You’re hurting yourself again!”

But my outburst didn’t seem to reach his ears. His eyes were too busy watching me, roaming every feature of mine.

When a tear slipped down my cheek, he blinked, coming back to his senses.

“Rosebud? What happened, baby? Why are you crying?” He cupped my cheeks. “Are you hurt?”

Didn’t he realize what I was talking about?

Something squeezed inside my chest. What bothered him to that extent that he didn’t even realize his own pain?

“Yes, I’m hurt.”

Concern etched on his beautiful face as they searched for any injuries on my body. “Hurt? Where? How did you get hurt?”

“You hurt me,” I whispered.

He stilled, watching me in silence. A pain flashed across his eyes as if even the idea of hurting me haunted him. “I could never hurt you, Rosebud. I’d die before doing that.”