He was peaceful. I mean, aside from the fact that his face looked like a piece of raw beef, he was perfect.

His mouth couldn't speak those dangerously offensive words. His eyes couldn't shoot me those cutting looks. He certainly couldn't smirk in that condescending manner that made me want to cover my head with a bag, but it took too much. Getting to see him like this was too much of a task.

His eyes fluttered, a groaning sound escaping his lips as he slowly woke up. I hoped that he would stay under for just a while longer where I could stare happily without the fear of his tongue lashing. That was once again, too much to ask.

A  cautious hand touched the side of his lip, followed by a wince. I winced too. It was clear that the bruises hurt, why wouldn't they? Taking a beating like a professional fighter doesn't make the pain any less.

"You're here?" he whispered.

I ground my teeth, feeling the oncoming criticism. "Yeah, figured someone needed to watch to make sure you didn't die in your sleep."

Dylan chuckled. That was better than what I expected so I didn't say anything else.

While he slept, Dr. Mark had filled me in on another of Dylan and Mason's dirty secrets. Their fights weren't anything new, but the fact that Dylan was the one getting hit was something that had only started a few years prior.

Punishment, Dr. Mark called it. I had only a few guesses to what the punishment was for and neither of them seemed justifiable. He was good enough to let me know that Dylan wouldn't die either and that his deplorable behavior would go back to normal once he was awake. I was more concerned about whether or not his face would forever be scarred. Dr. Mark assured me that it wouldn't, but from the swelling, I wasn't so sure. Thankfully, Mason hadn't managed to knock any teeth out. A tiny chip could be fixed, but a missing tooth would be too much to bear for the great Dylan Stone.

He sat up, tossing his feet over the side of the bed, "Where's Mason?" he asked.

I tried to ignore the pained sounds he made as he moved, but the sympathetic side of me saw the flashes of him being hit. Each blow causing me to inch closer to him. "You really shouldn't walk around yet." Futile words as Dylan hopped to his feet. "Dr. Mark said to wait until you've. . ."

"You look thirsty," he sighed cutting me off. "I'm sure you were stupid enough to sit there all this time with nothing in you, right?" I nodded, touching the ends of my shirt that hung over my slacks, "I'll be right back with some water, I need to use the bathroom anyways."

Reluctantly, I sat back down at the foot of the bed. He was showing concern, no matter how convoluted it seemed coming out of his mouth.

He returned after a few minutes, carefully handing me the glass of water before sitting down. I observed his careful posture as he rested himself on the bed. There was pain not only in his face but also in his back and leg, most likely from hitting the floor with such impact after Mason's first punch.

I gulped down the glass of water, coming to the realization that my lips had long since dried out while I watched Dylan sleep. Hours had passed and I hadn't moved an inch from where I sat.

As he returned to his position on the bed, Dylan closed his eyes. "Wake me when I don't look like this anymore," I smiled at his words. He was trying to cheer me up. It didn't work as well as it should've but it was enough to get rid of some of the tension I felt.

"What was your motivation behind it? Provoking Mason, I mean."

He sighed, partially opening his eye to glance at me, "I was bored. Is that good enough for you?"

"No," I said sharply. "You seemed, out of it. Kinda like you wanted to get punched."

"Maybe I did."

And maybe he did.

It was something I'd thought about while I'd sat there for so long. Thinking up different reasons, different scenarios but they all led to the same path. Dylan getting his ass kicked. Or even if the former was true, Dylan and Mason having an all-out fist fight.

"Were you drunk last night when you came to see me?" I continued to prod.

"No and yes." He sat back up, gingerly touching his face. "If you make me talk this much I won't heal."

"Sorry, but what you mean by that. Is it yes or no?"

"I was drunk, just not in the way that you think." He wiggled his jaw, "Let's play 20 questions later, Lilith."

I respected his wishes. The talking was painful for him and for me to watch. So, I left it alone and shuffled my way out of the room and down the hall into Dylan's secret gallery. It was a visit down memory lane to me. Watching the smiling faces, the sultry curves of my female workmates, the way the males seemed to all have a purpose. Even if I wasn't in them, the paintings made me feel a part of them, and I thought to myself, that maybe that's what Dylan wanted; to feel close to these people since his usual self was such a sham.

"That's something I might never find out," I said loudly in the empty room.

I returned to my bedroom on the ground floor. Maria had already washed the clothes from earlier on in the day. The blood stains were thankfully gone, but the clothes themselves seemed to be stained with the memory of the incident. I grabbed my old gym bag, tossed them in and zipped it up. The bag surely wouldn't be used anytime in the near future, I was safe.

"Dinner is ready, Ms. Grant." The small voice echoed from behind the door.

I looked over at the mini clock that sat on my nightstand, "Prompt as always, Maria."

The house was quiet. The lights toned down so that it wasn't too bright or too dark as I made my way up the staircase to the second floor. I figured that I would check on Dylan for Dinner, but he was sitting at the island when I walked into the living room.

From the back, he seemed like his usual self, but once I walked close enough, I could still see the bruises and all the pain that came with them.

"You sure you can eat?"

"A few shaky teeth are nothing," Dylan exhaled, cutting into the seared chicken breast. I sat in my usual spot on the opposite side of the Island. This time the food looked at least more high end. It was Shrimp Alfredo. I'd had it before, years before when things were great with Matt and we decided to have a Date out like Adults. Sitting across from Dylan's battered face was somehow more pleasing than the date we'd had.

Dylan and I ate silently, no more than the moans from him every time he opened his mouth, and the sounds of the forks and knives hitting the plates or countertop could be heard.

I paced myself. Not wanting to finish too fast and have an awkward silence between us.

I had nothing to do except wait for Dylan. And so far, I was always waiting for Dylan. I didn't want to be stuck staring so I kept pace.

He finished, and I shoved the last bit of Shrimp and Linguine into my mouth, chewing awkwardly so that I could catch him before he stood up.

"What do you want?" he asked knowingly. He tipped the wine glass and sipped the cool water from inside.

"Answers. And not the snarky sarcastic ones you normally give me," I corrected, "I want the truth or something close enough to it."

He thought for a moment, touching the bruise near his left eye again. "Fine. Before these painkillers wear off."

A little girl danced around with joy inside of me. "Where'd you get that bruise?" He lifted an eyebrow, then regretfully lowered his head as he winced in pain. "The one by your eye that I saw last night?"

After a deep breath, he responded, "A club that I went to."

"So, you just walked into a wall?" I asked sarcastically, feeling unsatisfied with his answer.

"No, the bartender."

His answers were short but I couldn't exactly complain. I'd take what I could get from him.

"So, why'd the bartender hit you?"

"Unnecessary details, Lilith."

I was sure they weren't but he wasn't keen on sharing so I figured to cut my losses and move on. Try again to get to what I really wanted to know. "Why'd you pick that fight with Mason?"

"Wasn't much of a fight if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't. And you're right, all you did was get your ass kicked." Dylan scoffed, "I just want to know why you did it. You knew he would do that to you, right? So why say that stuff to him?"

"I said I was bored, Ms. Grant."

"I don't believe you, Mr. Stone."

"This is something like the truth, isn't it. What would you like for me to say then? That I wanted it?"

"It sure looked that way!"

"Well, I did. I could give that to him at least."

"What do you mean? Because of your mother?" I leaned in expectantly, hoping that I'd finally filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle.

"No. It's never about her, Lilith." He closed his eyes, stewing in the pain for a few seconds before he started again. "It's for Christina."

"Who's Christina?"

"That's not right," he said standing up, "You should ask who was Christina?"

I froze, someone else had died. Someone else had left Dylan and Mason behind and neither of them had gotten over it.

"Okay, so, who was Christina?" I continued, swallowing hard, "Was she a younger sister or something?"

"She was my. . . our girlfriend," Dylan laughed lightly as I scowled, "Don't get hung up on words, Lilith"

But I had no choice to be hung on those words like a sloth on a branch. What kind of relationship did they have? What twisted past did they share? What the hell did Dylan do to that poor girl to make Mason hate him that much?

"I don't get it. Was she two-timing you with Mason?" He walked toward the hallway and I raced to follow, "Dylan, answer me, what happened?"

"There was nothing so twisted. She just ended up with the wrong guy."

I pushed harder, deeper, feeling the release of the information I'd wanted since I'd learned they had a connection. "She fell for you didn't she? She fell for you and Mason hated you for it?"

He turned around, staring at me in disbelief, "No, she fell for Mason, they all fell for Mason!" he said loudly, "I was the one she ended up with because I was selfish. I forced her to be mine, to stay with me, to love me because I was too caught up in myself to see anything past what I wanted!"

I took a step back. Tears had welled up at the rims of Dylan's eyes. He was in pain, but there was no question that this pain wasn't from the bruises, it was emotional. Something buried inside that seemed to swim just below the surface like it was coming up for air.

"I'm sorry, I just. . . "

"You want to know the truth, Lilith." I nodded, "My truth is that I killed her. I listened to her beg for help and did nothing to help her. I stood by and watched the only person I'd ever loved, kill herself. That's why I did it. That's why I let Mason do this to my face."

I blinked back tears, "You feel guilty."

"No, I am guilty!" he shouted. "It's my fault. Every horrible thing around me is my fault, do you understand? So get better and then get out! Or I promise you, Lilith. I promise that if you fall for me. If you're stupid enough to feel anything for me, I'll hurt you too."

A/N

 Wow, two updates in a row. This chapter is completely new. I hope it was good. Feel free to comment, vote and share this book with your friends. Feedback means everything to me!