His Trauma

[Rosco’s POV]

“Ow.”

A hiss of pain escapes Denali as I push against her exposed ribs, which are clearly bruised from her stepmother’s attack. Fuck, that bitch really did a number on her, and I was beginning to regret just leaving without doing anything.

“I should go back,” I mutter.

“I’m fine.”

Fine… How the hell was she fine when she was covered in bruises and scars? There was absolutely nothing fine about this, but I understood why she was saying that even if I didn’t like it.

Since bringing Denali up to our room and undressing her from the waist up, I have been fighting the urge to go back to that damn venue and beating the shit out of Roger. I already hated his fucking guts, but after witnessing him standing aside while that bitch of a wife of his beat Denali, the need for blood was strong.

“Ow,” Denali squeaks, snapping me out of my head so that I realize that I pressed too hard on her wounded ribs.

“Shit, sorry.”