Run (12 page)

       Did everyone think I was so fragile I’d break at the slightest provocation? I scowled at the silverware as I rolled it into napkins. I didn’t need saving. I wasn’t going to fall apart. Everyone else could just go fuck themselves.

       Gwen stayed away, and the dinner rush started with a bang, literally. Tommy left one of the soup kettles on too long and forgot to remove the lid, and the contents exploded all over the kitchen. His furious curses could be heard in the dining room, and he was in a foul mood for the rest of the evening.

       I managed to text Trevor back, though I didn’t bother listening to his voicemail. There wasn’t time. Everyone wanted their food, they wanted it now, and they all insisted on bringing their crying, squabbling children in to eat.

       The end of my shift couldn’t come soon enough. I wanted a cold shower and a colder beer. And while I was dreaming, working A/C would be nice. The bells over the door jangled as I was cleaning off a table, and I whirled around, ready to tell whoever it was the kitchen was closed and to get the hell out.

       Trevor had his hands in his pockets, his face blank. Too blank. I knew that look. I’d seen it, the night of the gunfire, when he’d stayed at my apartment.

       I pointed to a table. “Sit,” I snapped.

       He strode forward. “What happened to your car?”

       The question surprised me. “How’d you find out about it?”

       “Cal’s shop works on the crew trucks. Stopped by to see about a part and saw your car in the lot with a sheet of plastic on the window. Now,” he said, voice calm and dangerously low, “what. The fuck. Happened. To your car.”

       Bossy Trevor was putting in an appearance, apparently. I pushed my face close to his. “Back off,” I said softly.

       “No.”

       “Kenna. Back to work.” Gwen’s order broke the tension before it really had a chance to grow. We backed away from each other and I resumed wiping down tables and tipping up chairs.

       Trevor skulked behind me as Gwen let us out the back, the heat of the day radiating off the worn brick. My mood dropping by the second, I wavered between wanting to go home,
alone
, and provoking Trevor.

       And I still hadn’t called my mother. Nor had I figured out
how
I was going to get home.

       I thought about the amount of cash I had in my wallet. The bus was an option. There was a stop a few blocks away, and it couldn’t be that hard to figure out where it went and how to get home.

       “McKenna.” A touch on my elbow, strong fingers curling around the point. I stopped and dropped my head to my chest. “You need a ride home?”

       I nodded once, and he led me to his truck down the street, a careful six inches of space between us. The moment I climbed into the cab and sat down, fatigue swept in and crashed over me. Sleep. The shower and beer could wait. I’d deal with all the other shit in the morning.

       The low growl of the engine filled the silence. I tipped my head to rest on the seat back, eyes closed to shut out the twilight-darkened streets. “Someone shattered the driver’s side window of my car, either last night or sometime earlier today. Nothing was taken, the car’s otherwise intact.”

       When he didn’t answer, I let out a long, quiet sigh and opened my eyes. We were maybe three blocks from my apartment when he spoke. “You can say no, but shit, I’d feel a lot better if you didn’t. Stay with me tonight.”

       Trevor’s apartment. Trevor’s clean, moderately safe apartment, complete with air conditioning and a nice shower stall and a bed that didn’t wake me multiple times a night with a spring digging into my back. If only for the possibility of getting a decent night’s sleep, I should say yes.

       I was so damn tired of being alone and pretending I was stronger than I looked. Would it be such a horrible thing to lean on Trevor for a while? Hell, just for one night? “I need to grab a change of clothes first.”

       He pulled into the lot and found a space near the stairs leading to my apartment, scanning the shadows as he climbed out. Nothing happened as he followed me up the stairs, into the stifling air of my apartment, watching as I tossed clean clothes into a bag.

       His long, hard body was all coiled strength and forced casualness, not shifting from his position as I made my way toward him. “No lecture, okay? I don’t need one. Besides, I already got it from Gwen.”

       “Lecture?”

       I lifted a brow. “You’re not pissed and all domineering because my car was broken into? Something else crawled up your ass and died?”

       He straightened. “I’m ’pissed and domineering’ because this wouldn’t have happened if you had a better apartment. Knowin’ you come home to this place every night makes my skin too tight. Which pisses me off more, because I’m trying to respect your boundaries and not rush in and try to make everything better. I suck at it anyways.”

       Dear lord, the last thing I needed to tonight was this. “How much like Molly am I?”

       He blew out a breath. “On the surface? Aside from you not having any addiction issues, a lot. You’re both built slim, delicate. Like you’ll blow over in a strong wind. You’re skittery and you don’t want to talk about shit and you’ve got this…” He waved a hand around my head. “Aura or some bullcrap about you that’s dark. You’ve got a painful secret, darlin’, and you’re wearin’ it on your sleeve. Whenever anyone asks about it, or gets too close, you snap out and back away.”

       I stared at him. “That’s a very astute observation.”

       “Fuck,” he muttered. “Biggest difference, though? You refuse to break. And I have to remind myself of that way too often. Molly fell to pieces all the fucking time and she knew I’d be around to pick them up. You won’t let me, and I don’t know if I should be glad about it or not. I couldn’t stay away from her. I can’t stay away from you, either, but shit, you’re a damn sight healthier for me.”

       I couldn’t stay away from him either, and I was terrified I’d end up using him as a crutch. Two years of therapy had taught me enough to know I had to face this, and face it alone. Couldn’t I let him hold me up? Just for a little while? Would it weaken me, send me scrambling backward, to let him take care of me?

       Throat dry, I stepped forward, sliding my hands up his chest to his neck. “You can’t say shit like that to me, Trevor.” I focused on his chest. It was easier than looking into his eyes. “I’m going to have to go back eventually. Face it, really put it behind me.” I pressed closer, turning my head so my cheek rested on his chest. “And I could really, really use a shower.”

       He groaned, the sound ending on an exasperated chuckle, and he cupped my hips. “Piece of work,” he murmured, and eased away. “You gonna let me take care of you tonight?”

       The vulnerability in his eyes gave me pause. He needed this, needed to be needed, like I needed to stand on my own. He was trying to give me what I asked for. I could give him this.

       I kissed him softly. “Shower, beer, and possibly an orgasm or two. Think you can handle it?”

       His mouth on mine was a taunt,
you can have more if you come with me, little girl.
“I’m up to the challenge. Though why stop at two orgasms? Maybe I’ll make you come until you pass out.”

       Well, all righty then.

Chapter Thirteen

       “For reals, yo, is this guy a unicorn or something?” Celia sucked down her Coke and pushed the cup away. “Men like that don’t actually exist.”

       “Mmph.” I swallowed the last bite of fajita and wiped my mouth. “They do. You just have to wait for them to grow up. And Trevor’s not perfect.” A picture of his jaw, taut and steely with anger, flashed through my mind. “He’s got flaws, same as everyone else. His just happen to be more manageable than others.”

       Celia glared at me. “Liar. After what you told me, you’re a lying liar and your pants are definitely smoking.”

       I made a show of twisting around to check out my ass, grinning when Celia snorted out a laugh. “Totally not. Trevor has manners and he’s not afraid to use them. He’s also mature enough to have figured out he’ll get a hell of a lot more action if he’s nice to me.” His wicked clever tongue helped matters.

       She propped her chin on her hand and frowned, humor fading. “In all seriousness, I’m happy for you, Ken. He sounds amazing.”

       Aside from his need to soothe away all my hurts, real or imagined, Trevor was pretty amazing. “I like him.” A lot. “He’s a lot of fun to hang out with. That’s pretty much all it is.”

       Her look said
uh-huh, yeah, and monkeys have wings
. It
was
all it was. I’d known him for a matter of weeks. I’d have to go home eventually, whether it was Bend or Bellingham; I couldn’t run forever. Austin was proving to be a great way station so far, but it wasn’t home.

       I had more immediate concerns, though, like getting my car back. I rubbed my sweaty palm along my thigh, working up the courage to ask Celia for a ride to the auto body shop. She’d ask questions, if she hadn’t already heard it from Gwen, which meant there was a possibility she’d go off on some rant about needing a safer place to stay.

       “Think you could do me a favor?” Casual. I was casual. So cool I was a glacier.

       She balled up her napkin and tossed it on her plate. “As long as it doesn’t involve bloodshed or breaking into CIA headquarters, sure.”

       I blinked, then shook my head. “Neither, I’m afraid. I need to go pick up my car and don’t really know the buses well enough to take one out there. Could I get a ride?”

       The vinyl creaked as she slid along it to the end of the booth. “What’d you do, get in an accident?”

       “More like someone busted out the driver’s side window.” I scooted out and stood, tossing a couple bills on the table. “Tommy’s brother cut me a deal.” I’d managed to figure out the bus from Trevor’s to the diner with the help of his laptop, but I hadn’t thought to look up the route from the diner back to my apartment.

       “Mommas, you’ve
got
to move out of that shithole.” She shook her head and made her way to the front door without another word, flip flops slapping against her heels.

       She didn’t say anything more about it on the drive to Calvin’s, though. “Wanna grab a beer?” I asked as I climbed out of the car. I figured the least I could do was buy her a drink for not chewing me out like everyone else seemed to want to.

       “Sure.”

       Anxiety dug claws into my stomach and gripped tight as I glanced around the front lot. No Adam. Of course there was no Adam. There was no reason for him to be here two days in a row, unless he was picking up a car today as well.

       Calvin came out of the office with a sheet of paper in his hand. “Managed to get the window at a lower cost than expected.” The amount on the paper was about a hundred less than he’d quoted me the day before. Whether he was telling the truth or he was taking pity on me, I didn’t care. I handed over the cash and picked up my keys.

       Celia gave me a thumbs up as I drove past, falling in behind me as I headed for the dive bar. It was the only place around here I knew, other than the places I’d been to with Celia and Charlie.

       And a small, sort of pathetic part of me hoped to run into Trevor tonight. I pushed the thought aside. Pathetic, yes, but I couldn’t help that he gave me a happy, squishy feeling in my chest whenever I saw him, or that I’d come to crave it like a drug.

       The squat, broken-down building looked much the same as it had that first night, waiting for the shadows to crowd in and take over. A handful of trucks dotted the lot, and as I parked, I grimaced, imagining what she’d say when she got a look at the interior.

       She got out of her car and stood next to it, staring at the bar. “Um. Wow. How’d you find out about this place?”

       “Met Trevor here.” As I figured it would, the comment perked her up, and she chattered at me as we crossed the lot to the front door.

       Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung” was coming from the speakers, giving the space more energy than it actually had. Half the stools were occupied, and the sound of pool balls clacking together was barely audible over the music. My usual perch was empty, and I claimed it, Celia climbing onto the stool next to me with an expectant look.

       “It’s not so bad. I figured it’d be more depressing.” She flashed a smile at the bartender, and he wandered over, drying his hands on a rag. “You got Red Stripe?” He nodded. “Red Stripe it is.”

       “PBR. Can,” I added, remembering what he’d asked the last time I’d ordered a beer. He grunted and went off to fill the order, tipping his chin to one of the other patrons.

       Celia scanned the room with a sort of wide-eyed innocence. I missed that. I missed being naïve enough to believe the world wasn’t going to beat me down and crash onto my shoulders. Being around Celia made me feel ancient at times, the few years between us as wide as an ocean.

       “So you met the unicorn here?” She nudged me with her elbow.

       The door opened, a shaft of dying light falling through and surrounding the men walking into the bar. It was the same four guys I’d seen the first night, with Trevor at the rear. Hummingbirds woke and started beating their wings in my stomach, and I followed his progress, waiting to catch his eye.

       Surprise and what I hoped was pleasure lit his face, and he said a few words to his friends before making his way around the bar. “Celia, right?” he asked, his attention on my friend.

       “Yeah. Nice to see you again, Trevor.” She picked up the bottle of Red Stripe the bartender placed in front of her and slid off the stool. “I’m gonna go introduce myself to your friends.” With a grin and a wiggle of her brows, she rounded the bar and walked right up to the three guys Trevor’d come in with.

       “Should I be worried?” I murmured, breath stuttering as he spun my stool around and he slipped his hands around to my ass, tugging me forward to the edge of the stool.