Overexposed

Ch. 8 Captured

Juice was happy to wake up the next morning with his wife snuggled against him. He studied Angela's hand where it lay on his chest, smiling to himself. He loved her hands. They were so graceful and pretty yet strong enough to massage even the biggest knots out of his back. A perfect representation of the woman they belonged to: strong and beautiful. He swore he knew her hands better than his own; which was why he picked up on how swollen her knuckles were, how they were purple as if she'd bruised them somehow. He lifted her hand off of his chest, brushing his thumb over one gently, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. She jerked her hand back in response, a low hiss of pain leaving her lips.

"You punch someone?" he asked, gently taking her hand in his again and noticing her slightly swollen wrist too. Her right wrist was the same one she routinely injured, the one that ached on cold days and throbbed if she'd been typing on the computer too much at work.

"Mmm, don't worry about it," she murmured, snuggling in closer to him and moving her leg across his, her foot pressed against his calf.

As distracting as it was to have her so close after not being together for so long, he was laser focused on whatever the hell had happened to her hand. "Angel, who'd you hit?"

She sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his throat. "No one important," she answered, her voice muffled by his skin. He tangled his fingers into her hair, gently tugging it back so she'd stop teasing him with her kisses. Her lip stuck out in a slight pout before she gave in. "Chibs."

He tensed at the name, his grip on her hand tightening a bit. The image of the Scot's cold dark eyes staring at him from across the diner table came to mind as the last words he said to him flashed through his head; Ain't no way you're ever getting back to those girls. Swallowing hard, he shook his head, holding Angela just a little tighter. Chibs had been wrong, of course. He'd gotten back to his girls, to his family, but it had almost cost him everything. "Jesus Christ, baby," he breathed, his heart hammering in his chest.

Angela lifted her head up, her brows drawn together in worry. "Juice, relax. Its okay."

"No its not. He...you talked to him? He...did he come to you?" he asked, still reeling. She hesitated a bit before nodding. Juice felt like he couldn't breathe; why couldn't Chibs just leave them alone? Quickly, he sat up against the headrest, bringing his knees up to his chest and setting his elbows a top them as he shoved his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

He felt her fingernails rake over the back of his neck as she tried to soothe him. "Breathe, baby. I'm okay. Nothing happened," she assured him, kissing his temple. "I punched him, remember? If anyone should be fearing for his life, its that motherfucker."

Juice knew she was trying to get him to laugh, to calm him down somewhat, but he didn't find it funny. "What did he want?" he asked, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the soothing feel of Angela's fingers caressing his skin.

She hesitated again, and he loved her for it. Loved how she wanted to protect him, how she was trying to save him from spiraling deep into the dark place he'd been in when he'd left Charming. "Juice..."

"Please, baby. I need to know."

Angela nodded slowly. "He wanted to apologize. Make things right," she explained on a sigh.

"That it?" he asked, sensing there was something she was keeping from him. He looked up at her, into her worried dark eyes. "I can handle it, baby. Just tell me."

Slowly, she moved over him, straddling his lap before taking his face into her hands. "I love you," she told him, bumping her forehead against his. "That's all that matters. The rest is just...bullshit. All that matters is just you and me and our family."