| |
Heather
“But I wasn’t—”
I cut myself off from protesting that I was speeding. The cop flashed his lights on me as soon as I left the slow speed limit of downtown proper. It wasn’t a trick. I knew that it went from twenty-five to forty, but not yet.
Riled up with fear and acting on an adrenaline rush, I put my foot down hard on the gas pedal and tried to hurry home to the cabin as quickly as I could. Distancing myself from the spot I thought I’d seen David was critical. It was an emergency in my opinion, but according to Officer Marty here, I was just a civilian speeding too fast.
If he knew I was rushing away because I was scared of an abusive ex who wanted to control me, maybe this could’ve turned out differently. But I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t summon enough mental strength to string together a comment that I was terrified and making poor decisions behind the wheel. Reckless driving was a serious matter, and I felt guiltier just for imagining an excuse out of this predicament.
“What’s going on here?”
I frowned, leaning forward to see the reflection in the mirror outside my door.
Roarke?
What’s he doing here?
And why is he walking up to get in the middle of this damn ticket incident?
“Hey there, Roarke,” Officer Marty replied. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Not bad.”
“You sure about that?” Marty turned, taking his focus off me to glance at Roarke.
He didn’t seem bothered to intervene, standing right out my window and chatting with the cop.
“What happened there?” Marty asked, gesturing at the thick gauze wrapped around Roarke’s arm.
“Oh, just had an argument with a bit of fence earlier.”
“Damn.” Marty shook his head. “Looks rough.”
“Nah. It’s not so bad.” He leaned his hip against the side of my car, settling in. As if just now noticing me, he lowered his gaze and nodded once at me. “Hello, Heather.”
The playful edge of his tone had me suspicious.
What are you doing?
Why do you have to be here?
What is going on?
Seeing him showing up didn’t make much sense. I supposed he could’ve been driving in the same direction as I had been. That put him here. But to stop and get out, butting in? That was the part I couldn’t comprehend.
My comprehension skills weren’t top-notch anyway. They couldn’t be at this moment. I was too scattered, torn apart, and bewildered with all the emotions coursing through me. As I waited here while Marty held my license and registration, high emotions had me ready to pant. It was either that or I hyperventilate under the stress.
First, the gut-clenching fear of spotting David.
I think it was him.
Then, the general anxiety of not feeling safe and so exposed.
When will I get used to coping with those?
Not now. Now was definitely not an ideal opportunity to cope. I was two inches from pure panic. I was on the cusp of breaking down. All my energy and effort went into keeping my cool, and as such, I had zero desire to figure out why Roarke had to be here. It couldn’t be that juicy of gossip to gawk at me getting pulled over for speeding.
I couldn’t slow down my mind or my heart to even know what I was supposed to be feeling. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Frustration. Disappointment. They were all ugly, horrible emotions, and they bombarded me in a wave.
What the hell are you doing here, Roarke?
I wanted to assume from his previous visit, when he came and told me about his ex, that he didn’t view me as only the enemy anymore. That he was changing his mind about me.
If he was here to stir up trouble, or to antagonize me about being pulled over...
I don’t have time for it. For you.
He tore his attention from me, and I hated that I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t guess what he was up to. I couldn’t even manage a hello in a reply of a greeting for him.
“What’s going on here?” Roarke asked.
“She was going eighteen over,” Marty replied. He didn’t sound like a hardass about it, like I feared. But matter-of-fact, almost apologetic like he really didn’t want to make anyone’s day worse.
“Huh.” Roarke glanced down at me. “Must have been a hectic day at work, huh, Heather?” He smiled at the cop. “I know how that feels.”
Marty laughed along with him. “It couldn’t have been as bad as that time Todd fell off that horse and got all banged up tumbling down that incline.”
“Ohhh.” Roarke shook his head. “That was brutal.”
“And the old man didn’t even care. Got right back up only took a week off.”
Roarke scoffed. “A week? No. He was back on the ranch the next damn day.”
What is going on? What is this?
I could see how they were friends, old friends based on this ability to share stories from long ago, but why was this happy hour to catch up? Why here?
I need to go. The urge to speed the rest of the way to the cabin and lock the door was overwhelming me. They were wasting my time, depriving me of getting to safety and trying to compartmentalize the chance I could’ve seen David in town today.
They chatted on, almost seeming oblivious to me sitting here, anxious in the driver’s seat.
“I swear I’ll never see anyone speeding as fast as Gavin, though,” Marty said in their conversation about who sped where around here. “The old boss said it was even faster than when then teens raced on the new pavement when they first put in the roads out toward the highway up north.”
“Gavin?” Roarke smiled and shook his head. “No. I don’t believe it.”
“Hmm-mmm.” Marty nodded. “Wendy’s water broke for their first daughter and he was so damn worried about how painful her contractions were getting and all.”
“Well, that’s sort of justified, if you ask me,” Roarke replied. “Medical emergency and all.”
“Slightly. But still...” Marty glanced down at me, as if trying to phrase how that wasn’t the situation now. If anyone had a medical reason to go fast, it would look like Roarke would have that right, with the bandages wrapped around his arm.
“That’s not the case here,” Marty said.
But...it is. Kind of. I was under mental duress. I was severely stressed and not thinking with a clear head. Adrenaline moved me, not common sense or logic. A deep-seated sense of fight or flight was prompting me to go, go, go!
“Yeah, well, it’s still not exactly necessary to give her a ticket and all, is it?” Roarke asked, charming but not sugar-coating his tone.
Wait. What? He was trying to get me out of trouble?
If anything, this made it even worse!
I didn’t ask him to stop or walk over here. I didn’t request his help, dammit.
“Hey, I’m an understanding man and all,” Marty started, “but...”
He was understanding. I was surprised how polite and easygoing he had been when he approached my window. He wasn’t another jerk or hardass of a cop, stern like he was high and mighty.
Just give me the ticket and let me go hide! My heart had yet to slow down or relax.
“Then maybe be a little more understanding and consider giving just a warning or something, you know?” Roarke raised his brows. “It’s not necessary to make her end her work day on a bad note, is it?”
“No, but...” Marty sighed, then frowned at him.
“Do it as a favor. For me, huh?” Roarke patted his shoulder.
What! A favor?
No. No, no, no. I didn’t like this. This was spiraling even worse. I had no clue how Roarke got off on thinking I was his responsibility to save. I didn’t see where he’d gotten it in his head that he could have the right to try to manipulate or decide anything that happened in my life.
But it seemed he was trying to do just that.
A favor?
That only meant I’d be indebted to him.
That I’d have to pay him back somehow, and this was not my first rodeo with that.
I didn’t want a ticket, but I wanted a man to assume the role of my “hero” even less.
“Yeah, I guess.” Marty shrugged, buying Roarke’s line. He turned his attention to his radio piece on his shoulder. “By the time I write it all up and such, the traffic out on the expressway would be even more snarled.”
Roarke nodded. “What’d she say?” he asked, referring to the staticky words spoken by the dispatcher in calling for all nearby units to help at the scene. “Semi overturned?”
Marty sighed. “Yeah. Again. I wish they’d wrap up that damn construction already. Never get accidents without it all messed up like that.” He faced me, handing back my ID and registration. “Heather, you watch that speed. We’ve got lots of speeders coming through here lately.”
Roarke scoffed. “We do?”
“Yeah. I’ve had to pull that guy in the rental over several times this week.” Marty shook his head. “Not going that fast, but he’s sticking with going over the limit no matter what.” He faced me again, kindly, but firm. “Please watch that speed, all right?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded once and took the documents back.
As he walked away, Roarke lingered.
I glared at him, unable to hide my most immediate reaction to him stepping up and taking charge of an incident in my life.
“You all right?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
You have to ask? I knew I looked like a ball of anxiety, clutching my steering wheel and likely white as a ghost.
“No, I’m not fucking all right,” I snapped as I put my car into gear and drove off. “And it’s not your worry why I’m not.”
I didn’t need to look in the mirror to see that he was driving right behind me. Of course, he was. He lived out here and had to go the same way I did. His truck bounced and rocked a safe distance after my car as I drove at a careful speed, eye on the speedometer.
I reached my cabin and wished I could exhale a deep breath of relief at the sight of it. It still wasn’t homey, but it had become a haven, a safe place I could know I’d be alone.
Except now. Roarke parked next to me. He wasn’t continuing on toward his cabin, and it was for that reason alone that I couldn’t sigh and be calmer to be home.
I was more than peeved, and I hated that as I got out of my car and slammed the door shut that I had to use my energy to resist him. To fight him back and convince him that now was not a good time. No time would be good. I’d been an idiot to think I could lower my guard around him.
One potential glimpse of David and I was spiraling into a complete mess.
“Go away,” I warned.
He scowled at me, walking after me as I went to my door. My fingers shook, rattling my key. My vision blurred with the onset of pending tears. And I could not handle it if he wanted to play the role of a hero as I broke down.
“Back off, Roarke. I mean it.” The second the words came out of my mind, I cringed a bit. Just hearing myself out loud, I registered how downright mean I sounded. I was grateful. I was. It was nice not to have to pay off a citation. But I had no time to deal with the guilt about talking so harshly to him after he’d done me a favor.
He could tell. Whirling around to face me at my door, I glowered at him harder, all the more to hide how freaked out I was inside.
“Hey.” He held his hands up in a truce-like manner. “I was just helping you out.”
Exactly. That was the fucking point. This was how it all started with David. A favor granted, supposedly out of the goodness of his heart. An act of kindness that had turned so quickly into something far more sinister.
But he’s not Davd.
Not every man will be like that.
I hadn’t had enough time on my own and away from my ex for that line of logic to sink in.
I knew not everyone was like David, but this close to escaping him, it seemed to make more sense to assume the worst of every man.
But he’s not David.
I didn’t know Roarke that well. Despite the two times he’d taken it upon himself to tell me about his life, I wasn’t familiar with him in a soul-deep way to realize he wouldn’t end up like David.
He’s not...
I sighed, trying to walk myself down from this anger. I didn’t want to project it on him. Not when he could disarm me with that expression of concern. Even a hint of hurt.
“All right.” Keeping his hands up, he took a step back. When he lowered them, he winced a bit at moving the bandaged one.
“Shit.” Now that the haze of fear and frustration waned, feeling safer just being closer to home, I noticed the gauze bleeding through. “You’re—” I huffed out a tired breath. “You’re bleeding.”
He backed up more, turned off from my furious warnings to back off. I couldn’t blame him. But the idea of him retreating wounded me. I didn’t want to be this bitchy, hissing woman. I didn’t want to think of him in pain, bleeding or wounded at all. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel, but I couldn’t forget that he did care. He’d cared enough to walk me home that one night. He cared enough to offer me shelter when I was locked out. And he’d cared to use his friendship with a cop to get me out of a ticket.
“Let me help.” I stepped toward him, reaching out my hand. “Let me at least help you with that bandage.”
“No.” He grunted a weak laugh. “I’ve dealt with this back-and-forth shit before. No thanks.”
“I’m not going back and—” Okay, I was, telling him to go then just as quickly wanting him to stay. I was a mess, but I wasn’t ready to explain why.
“I’m not in the mood for mind games.” He turned, but I chased after him, worried at a better view of how much blood was leaking.
“Roarke, no. Wait. I’m not playing games.”
“Forget about it,” he snapped. “I don’t want to deal with your attitude.” When I grabbed hold of his lower arm, he stopped and scowled at me. “All I wanted to do was make sure you were all right since you seemed so upset.”
He yanked his arm clear from my grasp, showing me that he was ready to walk away. It wasn’t just words with him. He meant it. He was fully prepared to leave.
And I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t clear. I was bouncing around, distorted with my reaction at seeing David in Burton. The only thing that seemed simple and true was how much safer I felt to be near this tall, mad man. I recalled how good and secure I felt when I was with him, and I wanted to be greedy enough to ask him to stay.
“Please,” I said, not begging but making sure I was calm and collected. “Let me just help with your injury.”
I swallowed hard, looking up at him and waiting for his reply.
