Red, that’s all he sees as she clings to him, as he listens to the peal of the other cars leaving them alone. Red and the black anger that crawls through him more than he cares to admit. He keeps it tame most of the time, maanges to keep it under his skin. Right now, however, is not one of those times. His hands are shaking from it as he mats down her hair down her back. He can’t even bear to look at her face without flying into an absolute rage. He’ll ask her what happened later, once she calms down, once he manages to shut down the guilt that comes through him at her words.
“ I’ve got you. ” he breathes out to her, steadily lifting her up off the ground and cradling her to his chest as he uses his shoulder to open the door to the club again. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart. ” he says it a few times as some form of assuring comfort. He has a loft above the club that he only ever uses to be alone, more a room than anything, she can rest there while he gets her cleaned up. The club is empty as he carries her through the back and up the stairs. It’s unlocked so he goes on in, easing her down onto the small bed that’s inside before he kneels down in front of her. He parts his lips to say something several times only for nothing to come out again. “ Let’s get you cleaned up. ” because she’s a mess, her face, her hair, her skin, her clothes - he can take care of her. If she’ll let him.
