Revved (Axle Alley Vipers)(34)
She was gone.
What the hell did you expect?
He knew bringing her here, witnessing this nightmare, was a bad idea. She’d seen a side of him he’d never wanted her to see, and he’d scared her away.
He’d been an idiot to believe, if only for a minute, that he could have her, because he’d known right from the beginning, he couldn’t. These last couple of days, he’d been kidding himself to think otherwise. Not with the dark shit that twisted inside him. He’d let it surface tonight, had taken his frustration and anger out on her, when she was only trying to help. He shoved a hand in his hair. Jesus, he’d screwed everything up.
Striding across the lawn to his mother’s house, he used his key to get in. He could hear the television going in the living room out back and headed down the short hall. When he rounded the door he came to a dead stop, heart kicking into overdrive at what he saw.
Rusty sat on the couch beside his distraught mother, arm wrapped around her thin shoulders, holding one of her hands and doing her best to comfort a woman she had never met in her life, a complete stranger.
“Would you like a hot drink, Carol? Tea, coffee, maybe a hot chocolate?”
“No, I’m fine, dear.” His mom patted Rusty’s hand.
“You have nothing to worry about now. Reid will make sure of it.”
The surety in Rusty’s voice made his chest ache. “You’re here?” The words formed on their own, escaped before he could stop them.
Her chin lifted, and those exquisite eyes landed on him, unwavering. “Of course. Where else would I be?”
As far away from me as you can get. That’s where she should be.
But she was still here. She hadn’t left. He didn’t know what to say. How to feel about it with so many emotions battling for dominance right then.
His mother came off the couch, came straight to him. He wrapped her in his arms, and she broke down all over again. He held her while she cried, her slight frame shaking under his hands. “It’s okay, Ma. He’s gone. I’ll look at finding you a new place, okay? Somewhere with better security.”
She shook her head. “I’m not letting you do that. Besides, I like it here. I have friends here, my garden. I-I don’t want to move.”
“It’s all right. We’ll sort something out.”
Rusty stood and left the room, giving his mother her privacy while she pulled it together. Again showing him that sweet side of her nature, the side she kept hidden from nearly everyone else. Everyone except those she cared about, those she trusted.
She trusts you.
She didn’t run.
Jesus, he couldn’t think about that now. The way he felt right then, about her—he could easily say something he could never take back. Something that would only make it harder to walk away.
When she returned, she had coffee for all of them. They drank their drinks, mostly in silence, and he kept an eye on his mother the whole time. She’d calmed down, but he wasn’t leaving her, not after that. Seeing the old man always affected her deeply. All the self-confidence she’d worked hard to gain would evaporate. The sparkle in her eyes that took too many years to return would dim.
“Will you be okay for a bit? I’ll take Rusty home, then come back. I’ll stay here tonight.”
His mother shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I called a friend, and she’s coming to keep me company. You go on. I’ll be fine.”
“Ma…”
“I’m fine.” She looked over at Rusty. “It was lovely to meet you, dear. I’m just sorry about the reason behind it. You and Reid will have to come for dinner sometime soon.”
His father had just been hauled away for breaking the conditions of the restraining order against him, and she was talking about dinner plans. She hated anyone knowing what she’d been through, was ashamed of it, and was doing a damn fine job of pretending she was okay. Rusty being as astute as she was, picked up on what his mother was doing and went along with it, like his old man hadn’t just tried to break the front door down.
“I’d like that, Carol, very much.” And she offered her one of those killer smiles.
A few minutes later the friend arrived, and they were being ushered to the front door. They said their good-byes, and his ma gave him another hug, squeezing him tight, and before she released him, whispered, “I like her.”
Yeah, you and me both.
His mom worried about him. Went on about him settling down every other week. The last thing he needed was her getting false hope.
They left, and Rusty walked beside him in silence. Then without a word, she slid her hand in his, silently offering up a piece of herself to him. He latched on, took what she was freely giving. Right then he needed it, needed her. Her touch, her warmth—shit, it made his gut twist in knots.