Storm Warning (4 page)

“Get out of here, Tory!” Adam ordered between grunts and curses.

“Adam, stop!
You’re going to kill him!”

Gabe locked his arms around Adam and yanked him off of Vance
with an ease that had Tory blinking
. The bartender pulled a bruised and bloody Vance to his feet. “Get the hell out of her
e before I call the police!”

“Let’s go.” Gabe shoved a still raging Adam out the door.

Outside, the blessed quietness both soothed and
confused
her.
Her head spun sickly, but she resisted the urge to wretch in the bushes.
Adam took three livid steps away from her,
then
stopped. Gabe was looking at her through narrowed eyes. She folded her arms and waited for the inevitable. It was her fault, after all.

“Could you be
any more
stupid?” Adam whirled on
her like she knew he would
.
His temper was every bit as hard as hers, despite the fact that neither one of them knew the other existed
until eight years ago.

Tory
lifted her chin. S
he was desperately afraid
she would cry in a minute.
“Can
’t
we talk about this later?”

“No, first off you know what an asshole he is,” h
e fumed. “He’s been cheating on you for
the
t
hree years that you’ve known him
and you still follow him around like
a lost fucking puppy! Even him hitting
you didn’t wake you up. Well?
Don’t you have anything to say?
Are you going to see him again?”

She could only shake her head.

“Answer me!”

“No!”

“G
ood,” h
e said quietly. “Because if I see him again, I’ll kill him.” He fished a set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Gabe. “Take her back, will you? I’ll drive the other truck.”

With that he walked away.

Tory stared after him for a moment. Gabe didn’t say a word. He could see the control she was trying to hold on to so desperately
struggling to slip
.

She wrapped her arms around herself an
d turned a fiery glower to Gabe.
Without a word or sound
,
she marched to the truck.

Gabe let out the breath he had caught when her blazing brown eyes warned him and followed her to the SUV. He climbed in and sta
r
ted the engine.

She sat in the front passenger seat
,
staring out the window, looking
small and vulnerable. Gabe fought the urge to reach
out to her. He knew she wouldn’
t welcome any comfort from him at the moment.

“Yo
u knew who I was, didn’t you?”
s
he asked him in a weak voice. He knew that i
f he could
see
her face, there would be tears there. Otherwise, she would
have
be
en
looking right at him with those fierce, beautiful brown eyes.

He considered lying
,
but almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he squashed it. She would know sooner or later. “Yes.”

She made a scoffing sound that sounded more like a sniffle than a retort
,
but he didn’t comment. Her pride was already hurting enough, he figured.

“Of course you did. You knew
my name without me telling you
—which foolishly, I just realized—
and
you
didn’t bother to give me yours.
”

“
You said
you didn’t want to know my name,” h
e pointed out.

Her head whipped around and he knew he had said the wrong thing.

“How dare you throw that in my
face?
” He
r voice was stronger now. “You—Mr. Wills—
are an asshole.”

“And here I thought I was on my best beh
avior,” he said dryly. Under the glow of a street light, he
saw the bruise on her cheek and
wanted to turn the truck around
. Vance was going to pay, he told himself. No man had any business physically abusing a woman.

“I guess I should congratulate you though. You did a wonderful job.” She held a hand up to her forehead and closed her eyes.

“A wonderful job with what?”

She laug
hed so hard that it shocked him.

“What’s wrong with you?” h
e snapped when she kept laughing.

“It’s just that—”
She stopped to catch her breath and wiped tears of hilarity from her face. “It’s just that Vance was so
angry
…
because he thought
you
were
into
me! It’s really pathetic
actually that I went through all this for nothing! Well, I hope you at least got your entertainment.” She took a deep breath and smiled at Gabe. “He may be amused by all this tomorrow. I sure am.”

She had a point. Vance had seen her dancing with him and
had been
jealous
,
which inevitably led to their fight.

“He beat the shit
out of you and you’re amused?” h
e asked her coolly.

“Yes, I guess I am.
He only got one hit, by the way.
” She looked back out the window. “Vance can be a really nice guy. Adam hates him anyway.”

“Yeah, how nice of him to pound your face in
,
then try to kill your brother,”
h
e commented dryly.

Tory cracked her window and settled back against the
seat. The smell of rain came into
the cab and the hum of
the motor filled the silence.

“I don’
t like you,” she whispered before her breathing became heavy and she fell asleep.

Chapter Three

Tory
woke up to the mouth
-
watering aroma of something home-cooked. Her mama’s waffles, she thought and smiled in her sleep. She would put strawberries and whipped cream on them and they would fill her stomach for hours.

Tory rolled over on her back and stretched. Yes, she must
be
eight years old again. She was in a big, comfortable bed. She could stretch as far as
she wanted and her feet wouldn’
t touch the
foot of the bed
.

With a heavy
,
satisfied sigh, she
forced her eyes open. T
he
dreamlike
illusion vanished
like smoke
. She sat up and rubbed her eyes
to clear them
.

She was in a hotel room—a
fancy hotel room with white walls, violet carpet
,
and big mirrors with beautiful wooden frames
through
out the room.

She had on a t-shirt only, she realized. How did she get into that? And where were her clothes? She remembered how she had
drunk
exce
ssively the night before. Then V
ance.

Oh, God! Vance.
She moaned as the
pounding behind her eyes
intruded.
She rested her
throbbing head in her hands and took a deep breath.
Serves you right,
Tory
.

When she could see through the fog again, she slipped out of bed and spotted a tray with a silver dome cover
in the middle of the dining table
. She inched her way to it and lifted the lid.

Waffles. Her
stomach growl
ed. Beside the stack of crisp
golden waffles was a bottle of aspirin.
Adam?
She looked down at the t-shirt that reached her mid-thigh and her eyes w
idened. The blessed fog that had been
covering her brain
finally cleared
. And that left ugly, humiliating
reality. It was Gabe’s shirt.

Ignorin
g the waffles, she crossed the room,
yank
ed open the oak hutch
and
found her
clothes neatly hung
in
a clear, plastic garment bag
. She ripped
it off
and stuck them
to her nose. To her annoyance
and relief, they smelt fresh and laundered
.

She walked into a bathroom—
that was big
ger than her bedroom growing up—
and
wished she could fill the gigantic tub to the rim and soak
. Instead, s
h
e splashed water on her face,
combe
d her fingers
through her hair, and changed back into her own clothing
.

Studying her reflection in the mirror, she thought she could have looked worse, considering.
Deciding that was the best she could do and not really giving a damn
any
way, she flicked off the lights.

She grabbed the aspirin and
the t-shirt she’
d woke up in and strode out of the room.

“What room is he in?” she asked Billy who was talking to Joel in the hallway. She
raised a brow at Billy’s wide grin.

“Two-twenty. Good morning princess.”

Ignoring him, s
he marched up to two-twenty and knocked on the door fervently. She folded her arms and waited for Gabe to answer and when he did, any words or accusations she could have thrown at him escaped her.

Probably due to the excessive amount of alcohol in her system t
he night before or the fact she’d been f
uming the maj
ority of the evening, she hadn’t
realized how handsome he really was.

He leaned against the door jam and watched her study him, apparently amused by her bafflement. He was tall, even taller than Adam. His skin was bronzed with lean muscles. She knew
this because he wore no shirt—
because
she had his shirt.

She brought her eyes to his face. His dark hair was cut short but it had a rich thickness to it
giving him a rakish quality that she should have found annoying. His smoky g
rey eyes were looking into hers
mockingly.

“Like what you see?” He
crossed his arms, moving muscle over muscle.

“I believe these are yours.” She cleared her throat and shoved the shirt and aspirin in his arms.

He took them and grabbed her arm before she could walk away. Dropping the shirt and aspirin into
the room
, he took her chin in his fingers and turned her face
,
examining her bruised cheek.

“Looks a little better. Do you bruise easily?”
The tips of his fingers moved slowly over her jaw line, sending
a little jolt
of pleasure to her stomach.

“Yes,” s
he answered, stunned into immobility.

“Does it hurt?” The sudden tenderness in his voice jolted her out of her trance. She didn’t want to feel warmed by his touch or soothed by his compassion.
She didn’t like him.

“It’s fine.” She plucked her chin out of his hand. His mouth twitched
in
what would have been a smile
,
but his eyes remained focused
on hers.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked,
then walked back into the room to rummage through his suitcases.

“Well enough,” s
he answered from the door.
The room wasn’t small, but it seemed tin
y with him in it. She wished he woul
d put a shirt on. Now.
“Trucks are leaving at nine.”
H
er brows snapped together when he chuckled. “What’s funny?”

“Did you know it’s almost eleven, Tory?”

“No way.  I never sleep that late.” She ran into the room and snatc
hed up his alarm clock. “Damn.”

“You slept like a rock last night.” He
finally
slipped on a shirt.
“But you needed it. Adam told Billy we’d push back the clock a few hours. Everyone agreed a little time wouldn’t hurt.”