Breathing His Air (12 page)

Those days were over. They’d progressed to admitting they had something real between them, and he’d do anything in his power to convince her to go with that feeling. Whatever kept her from letting herself go in the direction he wanted to take them needed to come out needed to be talked about and fixed. They’d deal with it together.

She’d held his hand the entire way home, even though she stared out the side window and refused to participate in idle conversation. He squeezed her hand, let go, put the Corvette in park, and shut off the engine.

“Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “I’ll make us something to eat.”

“Take the keys. I’ll bring your bags in.” He caught her eye as she snapped his key ring out of his fingers. “Hey.”

“What?”

He reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”

“I haven’t made the food yet.” Her head tilted toward his hand.

“Not that. For letting me buy you all those pretty clothes and shoes today.” His thumb stroked the curve of her cheek. “I like that. It makes me feel good to know I’m giving you something you need.”

The little lines between her brows deepened. “I don’t get you.”

“I know.” He grinned. “You will, though.”

“I doubt it,” she mumbled.

“Go cook me lunch, babe.” He spanked her on the ass. “You don’t expect me to bust my back carrying all your purchases inside and not get fed in return, huh?”

“Okay.” She fought a smile as she skipped into a walk.

Success. Positive he’d distracted her from slipping away from him, he popped the trunk and grinned like a teenage boy at the way he’d gone overboard buying her a new wardrobe. She deserved nice clothes, and today wouldn’t be the last time he pampered her. The faster she learned that she was worth having her man take care of her, she’d trust him enough to let go of the haunted look that invaded her when she wasn’t even aware of it.

He suspected she’d grown up without a lot of things, and he understood how such an overwhelming sign of good luck could rock her world. Raised in poverty, among alcohol abuse and fighting, he wasn’t going back to that kind of life. He’d show her his world that he’d worked his ass off building and give her only good things from now on.

Until it was safe for her to go out on her own, at least.

His motto of living life to the fullest, in the moment, would wear off on her. They’d enjoy their time together, and if for some reason the relationship wasn’t mutually beneficial to both of them, he’d let her go and see her safely away from Pitnam.

He carried the first load of bags into the house. Normally, he wouldn’t claim a woman. Circumstances had forced him to play his hand, and he’d stand by his decision. His word was law.

“Rain?” she called.

Her voice, tight and controlled, had him dropping the bags. He took the stairs three at a time. She met him on the second-floor landing.

“Tori?” He scanned her quickly, found her unharmed, and took in the paper she held in her hand.

“I read it. I’m sorry.” She held the paper out to him. “I was putting away my purse before I started cooking, and it was right there sitting on your bed — on my pillow, the one I used last night — and I couldn’t help it. I looked.”

“It’s okay. You can read anything … ” He quickly scanned the writing, and then went back and read it slowly. “Shit.”

“Are you married?” she whispered.

“Hold that question.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and walked down the stairs as he got Torque on the line. “She still there?”

“Yeah, boss,” said Torque.

“Take the damn key away from her and tell her to stay away. I don’t want to see her face or hear her name again.” He kept going until he reached the Corvette.

“She’s doing damage here, boss. Slade’s holding Taylor back, and if he lets her go, there’ll be a catfight. Crystal’s saying she ain’t going anywhere until she talks with you.”

“Put her on.” He emptied the trunk, shut it, and picked up the remaining bags in one hand.

“Rain?” Crystal said.

“What the hell? You do not come to my house and let yourself in. You do not talk with me. You do not show your ass in Pitnam. We’re through. You went to the other side. You do not have anything to do with me or anyone that belongs to me. Understand?” He stomped up the steps and through the front door.

“Honey … I don’t have anyone. I left the Lagsturns.” Her whine grated on his last nerve.

“Take that up with Sanchez. You let him stamp you. You’re his trouble now. I’ll only tell you this once, so listen closely. Give Torque your key. I’m changing the security code right now.” He flipped the cover to the control on the wall. “You do not want to mess with me. Get on a damn bus and get out of Pitnam.”

“But Rain — ”

He disconnected the call and shoved his phone into his pocket. Tori watched him curiously from the kitchen. He turned and walked along the first-floor hallway to the laundry room. This shit had to stop.

First Crystal, next Sanchez. He trusted neither one of them, and he wouldn’t have either one of them near Tori or his house.

He vaulted atop the washing machine, stood, and reached above the overhead cabinet. With pistol case in hand, he returned to the kitchen and put the plastic case on the table. Then he retrieved a set of keys from the third drawer down, under the utensil drawer.

“You okay?” She opened the lid of the skillet and poured in a cup of dry rice.

“Will be.” He opened the case. “You know how to shoot?”

She dropped the wooden spoon and whirled around, her eyes huge as she sank to her bottom on the floor of the kitchen, the coldness back in her face.

“What the fuck?” He left the table and moved to her. “Talk to me.”

She scrambled to her feet, lifting a hand in warning. “I-I need to go.”

“Where?”

“Away.” She paced the length of the kitchen. Her gaze flitted around him, never landing on him. “I need to go. I was told to go.”

“Who told you?” He kept his voice low. “I want you to stay.”

“No, no, no, no.” She shook her head and bumped her hip into the counter. “Please.”

That one word pierced his heart. The small voice she used. The way her eyes bored into his. He knew he’d do anything to take away her fear.

“Okay. Right.” He glanced down at the gun in his hand. “Hang on. Stay right here, baby, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Give me thirty seconds.”

Never having seen such desperation on her face, except the night she hid under his desk, he jumped into action. He replaced the gun in the case and jogged to the other end of the house. Once he placed the weapon back in its hiding spot, he pocketed the keys and returned to the kitchen.

“Okay, let’s … ” He walked into the living room, peered up the stairs, and cussed under his breath. Where could she have gone?

He rounded the corner and found the door open. That damn alarm never went off when it was supposed to. What more could go wrong?

He stepped out on the porch. “Tori?”

It took a few seconds to spot her. She was running down the private road, glancing behind her every few feet. Whether she ran from whatever scared her or from him, he didn’t know. But he was damn well going to find out.

In her flip-flops, she couldn’t outrun him. He sprinted until he reached her. Not stopping or chasing her, he jogged beside her. She glanced at him and then away, continuing to run in a hop-jog, almost as if she’d hurt her ankle. He kept his gaze on her, not rushing her. If he had to wait until exhaustion overtook her, he would.

Approaching the end of the road, where County Road intersected Holly Lane, she gazed to the left and right. She had no idea which way to turn. He slowed down, letting her take the lead. Supporting her and letting her know whichever way she turned, he’d follow.

At the stop sign, she stopped and walked around in a circle. He stood back, giving her space. An overwhelming urge to hurt whoever had put fear in her head, fear she couldn’t control on her own. He wanted her, could protect her and damn him, she needed him. But, she couldn’t see any of that, because something had her running scared. Most of all, he had no idea how to fix it so she never had to run from him again.

So he did nothing but wait. He’d stay with her for hours while she worked out her thoughts and figured out that he was one of the good guys. That when he said she was his woman, it meant she was his woman.

She raised her hands and pulled at her hair, searching wildly in all directions, before looking at him again. He remained in one spot. She reminded him of a feral kitten he’d captured as a kid. Leery, scared, and ready to bolt into the tiniest spot out of his reach. He wouldn’t let her go there.

The despair in her eyes kept her glancing over his body, from his face to his hands. He held his arms out, palms up. She had nothing to fear from him. She jogged two more circles around him and slowed to a pace. She limped on her foot.

“Where?” She rubbed the top of her thigh, unable to hold still. “Wh-where’s the gun?”

“My pistol?” He dropped his hands to his sides and left his fingers lax.

She nodded, backing farther away from him.

“Home, babe. Above the cabinet in the laundry room. It’s locked away.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay.” She slowed, but never gave up moving. She only took more precise steps, over and over, back and forth.

“You’re scared of my gun?”

She walked faster — left, right, left. When it seemed as if she were slowing down, she repeated the pattern again. He blew out his breath. “Right,” he murmured as clarity came.

It all made sense. The night at the bar, she’d hid when the Lagsturns shot in the air as they’d rode out. The sight of his pistol took her to that time when she’d needed to close herself off and lose herself in her head to save herself.
Damn. What have you seen or been through?

“I’m not leaving,” he whispered. “I’ll stay until you’re ready to trust me. You keep walking your worries away, and I’ll be right here waiting for you. I’ll take care of you. You’re not alone.”

She stopped, bent over, and rubbed her thigh. He took a step forward, but her head jerked up. He stopped and held his arms out to his sides. “Tell me if you’re hurt, babe. Give me that much. I’m worried.”

A small whine came from deep inside her. He couldn’t stay away. Without giving her any choice, afraid she’d hurt her leg running in those slinky little sandals, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms.

“I got you. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I’m gonna take you home,” he whispered against her hair.

She planted her face in the crook of his neck. Her body trembled, and moisture gathered on his neck from tears she wasn’t going to let him hear. He walked the quarter of a mile back to the house, talking to her the whole time. Tori had to learn he was strong enough for both of them.

He had no idea what he was saying, but knew she needed to hear his words to keep her from slipping into her own head and losing connection with him. He carried her through the doorway, kicked the door shut, and went right up the stairs to the bedroom.

Not taking the time to check for any injury, he laid down on the bed and pulled her close to his body. Front to front, he wrapped her in his arms and simply held her.

“I’m not leaving you alone, babe,” he whispered. “You’re my woman, and I take care of my woman.”

Chapter Fifteen

Tori woke up with the room dark and silent. She lay still, trying to get her bearings. The day of shopping, the return to Rain’s house, the gun, and running away all came back, and she moved to get up, but two strong arms held her down.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” She swallowed. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He let her go. She slipped out of bed and walked across the room, turned the light on, and shut the door. She quickly went about her business, washed her face, and returned to the bedroom.

Rain had switched on the light while she was gone and now sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at him, gauging his reaction to what she’d put him through. After driving him nuts and making him more confused, she expected to see anger or disgust. Instead, he seemed concerned.

“It’s a quarter to five. Did you still want to go in and open the Coffee Shack, or should I call Taylor?” He stood.

Sometime in the night, he’d taken off his boots, socks, and shirt. She stared at his broad chest and closed her eyes a moment. She’d laid her head upon his bare skin throughout the night. She remembered waking up, and him pulling her closer. She’d willingly snuggled deeper, happy for his warmth, his security, his attention.

“I’d like to open this morning after I take a shower.” She glanced around. “My clothes?”

“Downstairs still.” He sat down in the recliner and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“We need to talk.” He motioned her over.

She sat down on the edge of the bed across from him. He grinned and crooked his finger. “Here, babe. I’m not ready to go all day without touching you. Give me this, huh?”

“Okay,” she whispered, moving and settling on his lap.

He no longer felt different or unfamiliar to her after spending two nights with him. She curled against him and laid her head on his shoulder, mostly to keep from looking into his face. Embarrassed about how she’d acted, she wanted to go to work and get back to normal. She wanted to forget what happened.

“You were limping and rubbing your leg yesterday.” He kissed the top of her head. “I need to know if you’re injured.”

She ran her hand down her side until she covered her upper thigh. “No.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Good.” He exhaled, and his shoulders relaxed under her. “Can you let me into your head and tell me what was going on with you last night?”

She frowned. No one had ever asked, and she’d never told a single person what she’d lived through and continued to fight through every single day of her life. She respected Rain for what he’d done for her, but soon she’d leave here, and she wasn’t willing to spread her curse to anyone else.

“Babe?”

She sat up straighter. “It’s nothing.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “Bullshit. It’s something big. Too big for you to handle on your own. Let me have what poisons your thoughts.”