No One's Hero (Chadwell Hearts) (13 page)

—-♥—-

K
evin

I want to shake her senseless, lock her up in a protective cell and throw away the key. I also want to hold her close and never let her go. And I’m going to have to decide which I’m going to do—kiss her or kill her—quickly, because I just caught sight of them on the shoulder. The patrolman my contact at dispatch sent is leaning through the driver’s window. The good thing about protecting an important federal witness is that it opens lots of doors when you need the assistance of local law enforcement. It’s not just Axel who wants Lexi kept safe.

“I’m pulling up now,” I tell Lexi through my phone. “Don’t get out of the car until I tell you to.” Once I’ve got her agreement, I hit the off button and pocket the phone.

Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I slam my door and stride toward the punk ass who took her, wishing the crunching was the bones of his face instead. Because of him—and her own stupidity—Lexi was in an exorbitant amount of danger. His only saving grace is that I know this was my fault too. I hurt her when I pushed her away, and I can’t really blame her for running off. That blame rests with me.

The officer steps back as I approach, and with him out of the way, I can see Tanner’s pale pansy face through the driver’s window. He looks like he’s about to puke.

Good.

“Any sign of the other vehicle?” I question the officer.

He adjusts his hat over his close-cropped hair and shakes his head. “No, we’ve got officers on the lookout, but nothing yet. Ms. Feron said the driver was male, it was a black or dark SUV, and he warned her to be quiet as he drove past—he spooked as soon as he caught sight of us.”

I was worried that might happen, but I’d heard Tanner coming apart at the seams, which was the bigger risk to Lexi. Had the fool been able to keep it together, the officer’s instructions had been to focus on apprehending the other driver, but too late now. What’s done is done. I eye a fresh dent on the back bumper, and inwardly I seethe. “Can I go ahead and take her?”

The officer presses a button on the side of his radio. “Is the girl free to go?”

Someone on the other end gives him the all clear, but before I get Lexi, I ask, “What did his license say his address is? I can’t find any record of him being assigned a dorm, but he always seems to be around.”

Suspicion clouds the officer’s eyes. “He didn’t have an ID on him. We’re running the info we’ve been able to get now.”

I’m tempted to mention that he had to have ID to get into the club, but I keep my thoughts to myself. Whatever fake information he gave could prove useful to us in tracking down the truth. “If you’d be so kind as to send a copy of the report to my office, I’d appreciate it.” I rattle off a fax number that will forward anything received to my email, then head around the car to the passenger side.

I instantly scan for injuries as soon as she steps out of the car, but in all honesty, she looks okay. Definitely more put together than Tanner, and probably more put together than me. I near about had a heart attack when I heard the other driver hit them. By God, she could have been killed. Somebody
will
pay for that.

“Let’s go,” I tell her tersely. I don’t think I could handle failing again. It would destroy me.

“I’m sorry,” she says as I hold the passenger door of my SUV open for her. Her voice wavers, and I’m forced to look away. I shouldn’t feel this for her. Hell, I shouldn’t let myself feel anything for her.  But that’s impossible. The more I try to keep her at arm’s length so I don’t screw up, the more I screw up. I think the very act of trying to keep someone alive when you know there is someone out there who wants them dead initiates caring on some level. I can try to tell myself it’s just the job all I want, but it’s not. If someone’s worth risking your life for, that has to matter. Plus, there’s just something about her no-fear attitude that constantly endears her to me. It’s like she’s everything I wish I could still be. Maybe I should tell Axel he needs to hire someone else.

Once she’s safely buckled, I take my time crossing to my side of the vehicle. Nuri said something to me once, one night when we were in the orphanage where she spent most of her time. I asked her why she took the risk of angering local factions by teaching the orphanage girls to read.

She said life is not a success just because you lived, or you survived. Life is only a success because of the choices you make and how you spend your time. I would rather spend one moment in the light of hope than a lifetime in the darkness of acceptance.

I think Nuri would have liked Lexi. She definitely would have understood her refusal to adhere to a cautious existence. Then again, Nuri didn’t believe in wasting opportunities you were given, either, so she would have likely been irritated with Lexi for risking her neck for nothing.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her gazing at me with a combination of hope and wariness. I want to tell her she
wasn’t
thinking. But that’s bullshit, and even if she doesn’t know it, I do. She was thinking that she didn’t want to spend another night with me scolding or controlling her.

I turn the key in the ignition and merge into traffic.

“Is Tanner going to get a ticket?”

Doubtful. I keep my lips sealed, making sure I don’t tell her what I think he deserves.

Lexi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Would you freaking answer me? You can’t just sit there silent and ignoring me.”

Oh Lexi. I’m not ignoring you,
I want to say.
I’m acutely aware of how good you smell. The thought of how you taste is forever imprinted on my tongue. And if you were any other girl, I’d pull over and take you right here.

Despite the thoughts hovering at the tip of my tongue, I say nothing.

“Just answer me this, then. Do you push me away because I’m just a job, or is it something else? Too young? Too ugly? Too—” Exasperation boils over like a volcano, erupting in a hot rush of words I never intended to say.

“Perfect,” I shout. “You’re too perfect to be touched by someone as tainted by fuck-ups as I am.”

She gapes at me in stunned silence. I didn’t even realize I thought those things until it was too late and the words were pouring out of my mouth, but that only makes them more true. Lexi
is
perfect, and she deserves someone better than me.

Suddenly the thought of going back and sitting in the stifling dorm seems like an awful idea. My temper is barely contained, and if Stephanie starts shit with Lexi again I might rip her pretty little head off. I’m taking the long way back to campus—or at least that’s what my GPS says—and a road sign ahead indicates a turn off for a scenic mountain overlook. It’s late and it’s probably closed, but it’s worth a try. By now I’m sure we aren’t being followed, so it should be safe enough.

If Lexi wonders where we’re going, she doesn’t ask. She’s fallen into a silence that fills the inside of the SUV with tension.

“I’m sorry too,” I say, wanting to hear her speak again, rather than having to listen to my conscience berate me more.

She doesn’t answer right away, and at first I think she’s giving me a taste of my own medicine. The question she asks when she finally speaks surprises me. “Do you know what you want?”

Do I? I honestly have no idea. Once I wanted what I think we all want. A wife, kids, a family. A home. Normalcy. Then, I just wanted to pretend that awful day never happened. “I used to, I suppose. Now I’m not so sure.”

“How’d you figure it out? Was it a lot of trial and error?”

A lot more error than trial. “Where’s this going, Lexi?” I pull the SUV into a wooded parking spot, turn off the ignition and angle myself toward her. “Want to walk as we talk? I figure we can check out the overlook.”

She nods, then climbs out into a parking lot that’s carpeted by pine needles and lit only by the full moon. I guide her with a hand resting lightly on the small of her back. It’s more of a physical connection than I usually allow myself with her, but something about it feels right, even as I second guess myself, so I resist the urge to withdraw my hand. “I just realize more and more every day that I don’t know what I want.”

“That doesn’t seem like you. It seems like you’re more sure of what you want than most people I know. You just want everything on your own terms.”

“For years I’ve dreamed of coming here for this equine program. It’s supposed to be the best.” She keeps her face straight ahead, not looking at me, but she isn’t moving away from my touch either. Her words though, they have a sad quality about them, stirring up my innate need to fix things. I think I’ve always been a fixer, but Lexi—and Nuri before her—brings it out in me more than most.

“But?”

“But it isn’t what I thought. It isn’t that they don’t have quality teachers and programs, but most of the students don’t take it seriously, so they don’t take me seriously. It’s like the degree is just something to look good on paper.” She runs her fingers through her hair, then hugs her arms around herself, tucking her fingers under the opposite elbows as if she’s trying to warm them, or maybe just try to keep herself from fidgeting. Admitting that maybe her dreams don’t match up with reality can’t be easy for her, and it only makes her seem more vulnerable.

“I can see how that is frustrating, but really, doesn’t that just give you more room to rise to the top?” The layer of pine needles crunches as we walk, and I wonder how many years of growth and change rest under our feet. There’s something serene about the forest that calms me in the way the city never will. Every so often I glance around us, looking and listening, but it seems like we’re alone here, the only ones silly enough to be on the trail after dark.

She tilts her head toward me while her lips curve into a rueful smile. “You would think so, but it’s hard when the opportunities to shine are taken from me.”

I doubt that anything could make Lexi not shine. “Take them back.”

“What?” She looks at me incredulously, and at first I think she’s faking it. Does she not see how much courage she has? Or how much stubbornness?

“Look, you had no problem taking what you wanted tonight, why is school any different?” There’s a marker on the trail saying we’ve walked for half a mile and the overlook is just ahead.

“What I thought I wanted, you mean.” She shivers and hugs herself hard.

It’s no wonder she’s cold. The sequined top she’s wearing is barely thicker than a tissue. I stop walking and unbutton my long sleeved black dress shirt and slip it around her shoulders. The cool evening air brushes against my shoulders, but it can’t combat the warmth that seeps over me seeing Lexi in my shirt.

Beside me, Lexi stops and stares. Her breath hitches and I find myself anxiously staring at her breast, waiting for the rhythmic rise and fall that signifies life. She’s frozen, suspended in a moment.

“What?” I ask.

“I just haven’t seen you without a shirt on before is all.” She gives me a sly sort of smile, the look of someone who’s gotten their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“And?”

She smiles, and a faint blush of color creeps into her cheeks. “And I’d like to see it more often.”

Maybe I’m her cookie jar. Shit. Time to change the subject. “What did you mean about tonight, and what you thought you wanted?” We start walking again, and soon the trees thin around us, letting the trail taper onto a wooden pavilion. The pavilion is suspended from the face of the cliff, and below us, the moon is reflected on the glass surface of a quiet lake framed by modest mountains. I whistle in appreciation. I had no idea we were close to such beauty. Then I glance down at Lexi.

Then again, maybe I did know.

“For years I’ve daydreamed of doing what I thought of as normal things. Having-a-boyfriend type things. I guess tonight has just sort of made me rethink that. All in one evening I kissed you and you pushed me away, and then another guy—one I thought I liked—felt me up. It just wasn’t what I hoped it would be. I don’t want to have those experiences because I’m desperate. I want them to mean something.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She turns away from me, staring out over the expanse, but I can see the tension in her back. “Except if I never get to know anyone, how can anything mean anything?”

“You know me,” I say slowly.

Lexi tilts her head toward me but doesn’t turn her face. “Do I? I really don’t know anything about you.”

That’s bullshit, and if she thought hard, she’d realize it. She’s closer to me than most people ever get. I insert myself between her and the overlook, forcing her to look at me, not letting her hide. “I’m the youngest of three boys. My mother died when I was young, from leukemia. My dad drank all the time, and so I started spending all my time away from home if at all possible. Axel and I became friends and the two of us were hell on wheels. He and I are a lot alike, but I don’t have a hefty trust fund, so I turned to the military to try to get a start on life, to make something of myself. It sort of didn’t work out, but it sort of did, because it gave me the skills to do what I do now. I’m a Virgo, love long walks on the beach, and I think PSY’s “Gangam  Style” is one of the stupidest songs I’ve ever heard.” She opens her mouth, but I put my finger against her lips, shushing her while I continue.  “I never eat breakfast, I hate seafood, and I have no addictions, but a lot of vices. You’re rapidly becoming one of them, but I think you already knew that. So there, now you know me, Lexi, or at least you know more about me. But all of that—did it really tell you anything more real than what you instinctively knew the first time I wrapped my arms around you? You already know the most important thing: that I would do anything to protect you, that you can trust me, and I’m always on your side, even when you’re not.” I take a deep breath, needing air after my long tirade. No clue where that all came from, but fuck, I meant every damn word.

And now she’s looking at me like I’m a lunatic. But I guess I am. Her eyes search mine, for what I don’t know, and the air grows thick between us. She sucks her lower lip in between her teeth, and something inside me twists. Her pulse is fluttering in her neck, and still, she’s silent. I need her to say something, anything, but she doesn’t. She simply watches me like she’s trying to decide something. My gaze wanders to that lip of hers again. “Lexi, have you ever been kissed? Like really kissed, I mean?”