Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
brYCE
The ground quaked under my boots as an explosion went off. Dust and rubble filled the air, making my eyes burn as I looked across the room, but I was still able to make out Moss’s and Danielson’s faces . . . just before the roof caved in.
My eyes popped open as I sucked in a harsh breath. A thin mist of sweat covered me from head to toe. My breathing was shallow and ragged as my heart slammed against my breastbone like it was trying to break free.
It took me a second to realize it was only a dream . . . a memory. I wasn’t back in that goddamn desert. I was . . .
A loud crash sounded, and I shot up, instinctively reaching for the gun I kept under my pillow. Only there was no gun. Because it wasn’t my pillow I was reaching under, and it wasn’t my bed I was sitting in.
I did a quick scan of the room, lit by the early morning sun streaming in through the windows, and remembered exactly where I was. I was at the inn. With Tessa. Only she was no longer in the bed beside me.
“Shit. Damn it. Son of a bitch.” Tessa’s muffled curses came from behind the closed bathroom door across the room. I quickly threw the covers back and started in that direction.
“Tessa?” I knocked on the door and waited for an answer. “What’s goin’ on in there?”
“Nothing.” Her voice came back to me, scratchy and weak. “I just knocked some stuff over when I stubbed my toe.” That was quickly followed up by a loud, hacking coughing fit. For Christ’s sake, it sounded like she was choking on a lung.
The knob didn’t move when I tried giving it a turn. She’d locked the damn door. “Honey, open up.”
“I’ll”—more coughing—“be out in”—heavy wheezing—“in a minute.”
“Now, Tessa,” I commanded, rattling the knob. “Either you open up, or I’m kickin’ the goddamn door in.”
“Jeez, fine. Hold your horses.” The lock disengaged a moment later, and the door swung open.
The unnatural flush in her cheeks from the fever was gone, leaving her face pale, with the exception of twin purple smudges beneath her eyes.
The hair around her forehead and temples was damp with sweat, meaning her fever had finally broken, but it was obvious she was still very sick.
Yet somehow, even in the state she was in, my gut clenched with need at the sight of her.
Ignoring the way my body heated, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. I made sure to keep my eyes on hers. It wouldn’t do to get caught checking out her legs at a time like this. “What are you doin’ out of bed?”
“I, uh . . .” Her eyes homed in on my naked chest. I was only wearing pair of boxer briefs so I was showing off even more than she was, and while I’d succeeded in fighting back my desire to leer, it was clear she’d lost her battle.
Her eyes shot back up to mine when I cleared my throat, and I couldn’t help but smirk as two circles of pink stained her cheeks. She was so busted.
“W-what was the question?”
Jesus, even sick as a dog, she was adorable. “I asked what you were doin’ out of bed. You’re sick, Tessa. You shouldn’t be moving around.”
“I need a shower.”
“Well, you can take one when you’re feelin’ better.”
Her face pinched into a pout. “I don’t have time to wait until I feel better. I need one now. I have to get to work.”
“No way,” I clipped.
The pout instantly disappeared, an angry glare taking its place. “Excuse me, but that’s not your call to make.”
“It absolutely is when I stayed up half the night, makin’ sure you got meds in you every four hours.”
“My fever broke. There’s no reason for me to call in sick.” As if to prove my point, she lapsed into another coughing fit.
“Really?” I arched a single brow, feeling pretty damn smug. “Still want to tell me there’s no reason for you to call in?”
Her eyelids narrowed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re seriously annoying?”
Moving aside, I pointed back to the bed and ordered, “Go lay back down.”
“Whatever,” she grumbled as she moved past me. “I’ll wait until you leave for work.”
I followed after her, tagging my jeans off the floor by the bed. “Good thing I’m not goin’ in today then, huh?”
She plopped onto the edge of the bed and pulled the covers over her bare legs, looking up at me with wide, panicked eyes. “What?”
“I’m playin’ nurse until you’re all better.”
With a dramatic groan, she flopped back onto the mattress. “This isn’t fair. Bryce, you can’t lock me in here. I’ve got a million things to do. I need to help out at the home, make sure the kids get to school—”
“I’m sure the other people helpin’ out there can handle it.”
She sat up quickly, her gaze beseeching. “Then there’s the paperwork. The budget report’s due—”
“Nothing that can’t wait another day. Or two, if necessary.”
“But—”
I decided it would be best to play to her protective instincts. “Look, you really want to go in to work today and risk getting everyone else sick? Getting the kids sick?”
“Fine,” she relented with a heavy sigh. “I won’t go to Hope House. But I still need to get the supplies to make the kids’ costumes for the haunted house.”
A chuckle rattled in my chest. “Jesus, beauty. Anyone ever tell you you’re a horrible patient?”
I’d meant it as a tease, but when her pretty face melted into sadness, I instantly regretted the words.
“No,” she whispered. “There’s never been anyone to tell me that.”
Reaching up, I rubbed the tension in the back of my neck before scratching my scruffy jaw. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”
“It’s okay.” Her smile was gentle, almost sweet, but I could see the sorrow in her light brown eyes. “I’m just being sensitive because I don’t feel good. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Feel free to ignore me.”
My chest felt tight. I wanted to move closer, wrap my arms around her, and hold her against me until her expression cleared. But that wasn’t my place.
At least, not yet.
Holding her as she slept last night was one thing. Her guard was down because she was sick. The circumstances hadn’t exactly been ideal, but it had been a goddamn dream come true, nonetheless, and I’d have said or done anything to make her smile.
“Tell you what. I’m willin’ to compromise. You promise to stay in bed for the rest of today, I’ll help you with all your errands later this week. Deal?”
Her eyes went wide and her lips parted in surprise. “Really?”
“Scout’s honor. Do we have a deal?”
She nodded, even going so far as to shuffle deeper into the bed.
“Deal.” I moved, snagging my T-shirt off the floor, mindful to keep my front toward her as I pulled it over my head.
The scars that riddled my back didn’t bother me anymore.
For the most part, I barely noticed them.
But if she saw them, there would be a million questions.
She deserved answers, but now wasn’t the time to get into that.
Once I located my boots and socks, I sat and began to pull them on.
“You’re leaving?” I could have sworn I heard a hint of disappointment in her voice.
Turning to face her, I gave in to my need to touch and reached out to trace her cheekbone with my fingers. “Just for a few minutes. Need to run by my place to grab a change of clothes. I’ll swing by Muffin Top on the way back if you want.”
Her face automatically brightened at the mention of the best coffee shop in town. “Yes!”
“All right. What do you want?”
“An apple fritter. And one of those blueberry muffins with the crumble on top. Ooh! And a slice of their lemon pound cake if they have it. And—”
“Jesus,” I said, laughing. “Hold on, I need to write this shit down.”
She pointed toward the tiny kitchen area. “There’s a pen and notebook in my satchel. Get the lead out, Dixon. I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, and I’m starving all of a sudden.”
With a grin pinned in place, I moved to the bag on the bar top and started rifling around in search of something to write on and with when I spotted a set of documents that made my entire body lock up.
Right there along the top in bold black letters were three words that nearly made my heart stop.
Petition for Divorce.
Fuck me. It felt like the ground had fallen from beneath my feet. My stomach churned, and my hands began to shake.
She was going to ask me for a divorce. The only tether I had to her was about to be cut.
I was going to be sick. Reaching up, I pressed a hand to the center of my chest to make sure everything was in proper working order, because it felt like I’d been cut open, leaving a big, gaping wound where my heart should be.
“You find it?”
Her voice shook me out of my living nightmare. Grabbing the items needed, I slipped a blank mask into place and headed back to the bed, every movement feeling brittle and stiff, like splintering glass.
I came to a stop a few feet away, tossing the items on the bed. She studied my face closely, her forehead pinching between her eyebrows at the sudden change in my mood. “Are you okay?”
Fuck no. I was far from okay. “Peachy,” I answered, my tone devoid of any emotion.
I could see the questions swirling around in her honey eyes, but she clamped her mouth shut and bent her head to the notepad to scrawl down her order.
Once she finished, I took the piece of paper she’d torn off and stuffed it into my pocket. “Be back soon. Try and get some rest.”
I bolted for the door. I needed air. I needed to think. I needed to figure out a goddamn way to keep her from serving me those fucking papers. Because that was the only hope I had at the moment.
She might have the documents to end us tucked away in her bag, but she hadn’t given them to me. Yet.
Which meant there was still time to change her mind.
And I was going to change her mind. There was no other option.