Chapter 20
Steel
By the time I made it back to the house, a solid twenty minutes had passed.
The walk had taken me longer, Zorro pulling at the leash the entire time. His growls became comforting after only a couple of minutes. The sounds were an indication I wasn’t falling prey to my instinct of protection.
I’d decided a lie was better than the truth, explaining that my extended absence was based on a sound, but instead of possible intruders, that I’d been worried about a thumping noise. I could easily explain the plumbing situation, which in turn would allow me to make changes inside her house.
A little contracting here and there, including beefing up the locks to ensure her safety.
As soon as I walked into the house, the quiet inside prickled my senses. With the leash off, Zorro made a beeline for Damon, who’d fallen asleep on the couch. When the pup curled up next to him, it solidified that they stay with me.
At least his sleepiness would allow me a reason to insist the little family stayed the night. I’d feel better having her under the same roof. What shit had I’d mentioned to her about not being a hero? With no sounds anywhere, I headed into the kitchen.
Violet wasn’t in the room, but she’d taken me up on my offer. The bottle of wine was on the counter, the cork positioned beside it. At least she’d been relaxed enough to pour a glass of wine. I dragged a bowl from the cabinet, filing it with water for Zorro.
She hadn’t left and no one had entered my home. I knew that instinctively not only by Damon’s continued presence, but also because I felt her. She was here. In my home.
In my life.
I sensed her being deep within the core of my bones and blood, an electric popping sensation that kept me on edge for an entirely different reason. My balls were also tight as the desire for her increased with every experience and every conversation.
There was no cause for celebration as the line in the sand was clear, but I took comfort in believing I could protect her against all evils. Whether that was true or not I honestly hope wouldn’t be challenged.
Again.
I took the time to pour a whiskey, pulling the rim of the glass to my lips as my thoughts centered on Damon’s father. Without knowing who he was, I couldn’t be but so helpful.
But the first call would be to the chief of police in the morning.
For a man who didn’t care about keeping the television or any music on for company, the silence was suddenly overwhelming. As quietly as possible, I checked every room as well as outside, finally realizing the door to the den was cracked, a light coming from inside.
With a single finger, I pushed it open. An immediate smile replaced my frown from seeing her playfully punching the boxing bag.
Her actions were surprisingly effective, her small fists and powerful swings creating momentum leaving the bag swinging.
With a determined look on her face, she shifted around the bag taking practice air jabs.
The sight was enjoyable, releasing some of the tension. I leaned against the doorway, enjoying the view while sipping my drink. Like any good voyeur would do. If she knew I’d returned, she didn’t show it, taking swing after swing until the bag almost bashed her in the face.
I bit back a chuckle while she continued to dance around. When the bag managed to smack her cheek, pummeling her backwards, I couldn’t keep the sound of amusement to myself.
Her reaction was everything I’d come to expect from her. Defiance swirled with annoyance. With her, a highly toxic combination. She stood where she was, inertia the only thing keeping the still swinging bag from pitching her to the floor.
And slowly turned her head toward me.
She motioned me with both her hands as if challenging me to a sparring match.
“Oh, really?” I asked, stepping further into the room.
“Oh, really. I want to see you do it.” Her challenge was irresistible.
I studied her for a few seconds before placing my drink on the table near her wine and gently pushing her away. Her glare was just another adorable reaction. “I wouldn’t want your pretty face hurt.”
“Uh-huh.” She backed away but kept her hands on her hips with her determined rebelliousness.
That only fueled the flames that had almost been smoldering all through the night. I moved in front of the bag, taking several deep breaths as I placed my feet where I preferred. Since I wasn’t professional, there was no magic or training to fall back on. The exercise was all about calming rage.
I smashed my fist against the bag with enough force she huffed.
“You’re going to break your fingers,” she commented.
“Not if I do it right.” After taking a deep breath, I swung two solid punches, moving away from the bag then issuing four jabs in rapid succession. By that point, I was lost in the moment, taking swing after swing until sweat pooled on my forehead and on the back of my neck.
As soon as I stepped away, I noticed her reflection in the glass. “Who are you hoping to crush with your fists? The man you thought was your friend?”
“That easy to tell, huh?” I grinned even though the usual anger lingered like a soft but debilitating haze.
“Yeah, but something I understand. I was pretending the bag was Kenny’s face.”
“Kenny?”
“Kenneth Coleman the third, although I didn’t know until the day I stopped by his office which Coleman he was.”
“And that was?”
She turned her head, concentrating on the bag and I didn’t anticipate she’d answer.
“Heir to the largest real estate development corporation in the world. They have fingers in hundreds if not thousands of locations in almost every country. They control the market. I had no idea as we just used first names. I just knew him as Kenny, the hot guy from the bar who offered attention to a twenty-year-old girl who’d entered the bar with a fake ID and big dreams. And before you ask, he insisted on a condom, but I guess that wasn’t enough.
As you might imagine, he wasn’t interested in a lowly girl originally from Philly with a questionable background and a shitty job.
Especially since he’s married to a real-life princess. ”
I could see the stress on her face, but it quickly faded.
You bet I made mental note of the asshole’s name.
“Do you think I’m condemning you, Violet?”
“I don’t know. Are you? Trust me, I’ve had it from several people over the years, which is why I trust almost no one.”
“I don’t blame you, but I have no right to criticize anyone for anything they do in their lives.”
“Well, good. Thank you. But anyway, that’s why I snooped in your house and why I’m beating your bag. I hope you don’t mind. “
“Not at all.” Not a single person had been allowed into this room since I found Tanya.
“I’m glad, but enough of the woe is me. I’ve conquered my aggressions for the night. At least I think I managed.” She dropped her eyelids provocatively, her long lashes skimming across her face. In the reflected light bouncing off the window, her skin shimmered, enough to keep my attention.
“It’s vital for a lady to find a way to reduce her stress.
I feel much safer. This is a much more efficient option than beating up on her man.
” With the way we’d been earlier, I found it fascinating that it was so easy to return to being able to tease her.
She had a way about her that could make any man feel comfortable.
“I will say, your story tops mine, but the punching bag has been a vital piece of equipment in my life over the last couple of years.”
“Your ex?”
“The very room I found them in. Granted, there used to be a nice, plush couch, but as you might imagine, I burned it.”
“You did?”
“I did. And I enjoyed watching it go up in flames.”
Perhaps I expected horror, but she slapped her hand over her mouth, laughing instead. For whatever reason, I laughed along with her. For the first time since that fateful night, I didn’t have the oppressive feeling of dread and rage as I normally did when walking into the room.
All because of the wildly attractive woman standing in front of me.
“Maybe that’s what I need to do, burn some furniture to relieve the stress.” We both continued laughing, the effort to make light of two distinctively different but similar nightmares losing energy.
After we stopped, the same strange awkward tether lingered, seconds ticking by.
“I guess it’s time to take my little boy home.”
“He fell asleep on the couch. You don’t have to wake him up. Not unless you really feel you need to.”
“Hmmm… I hate to wake him. He’s a monster when he doesn’t get his sleep.”
I couldn’t tell whether she was hinting or simply stating a fact so I decided to take the guesswork out of the moment. “Then let’s not wake him. I have a guest room. He can sleep there and I’ll give you the master bedroom. That way you can relax.”
“And where would you sleep?”
“The couch is just fine.”
“You’re seven feet tall. You don’t fit on that couch.”
She had me bursting into laughter once again. “Actually, just six five, but who’s counting? And I fit just fine. But I need to tell you something first.”
“That sounds serious.”
“I don’t know this to be true, but you need to know there’s a chance Zorro belongs to a breeder in town.”
“What?”
“Yeah. There’s a gang of high school kids harassing the community. Breaking into stores. Stealing. Vandalizing, including the breeder’s facility. They stole a bunch of puppies about ready to go to their new homes.”
Her entire face fell. “Oh, no. Are you sure?”
“Not at all, but I looked up the facility. It’s close enough to my cabin that the couple that escaped could have made their way behind my shed.”
“Oh, God. That will kill Damon. I’ve never seen him so happy. You don’t know what he’s like at home.”
I rubbed her arm, avoiding reacting to the tingles created from the light touch. “Do you want me to call them and find out for certain?”
“If you don’t mind. I didn’t think Zorro was a purebred with the white on his chest.”
“A common mark and Roxy might not know.”
“Damn it. Then there’s no way I could afford to buy him.”
“He’s likely already accounted for.”
Her fist clenched. “I’m so angry. This trip has been nothing but a nightmare.”
“Let me see what I can do. Don’t tell him anything yet. Maybe I can be his savior one last time.”
When she nibbled on her bottom lip while rubbing the back of her neck, I put both feet into the decision. “And here I wanted to hate you all over again.”
My laugh wasn’t so easy or natural this time. “You’re even more tense. I have a hot tub, which will soothe all that aches.”
The way her one eyebrow lifted pushed me further. “Hmm…”
“A little wine. Hot bubbles. A few stars. You don’t know what you’d be missing.”
“I don’t want to impose. As a friend.”
I inched closer until there was almost no space between us. “As a friend. You won’t be. I could use a soak myself.”
“Well… That sounds wonderful, but I don’t have a swimsuit. I didn’t think to pack one.”
“I won’t look. Scout’s honor.”
As expected, she rolled her eyes when I held up my fingers. “As long as you have big fluffy towels.”
“I have something even better.”
“Just this once.”
“Just this once.”
She grabbed her wine and for a few minutes, we lingered in the room without talking. Simply enjoying each other’s company. And in the short moment of time, the whispered shadows of an event that I’d yet to shove aside began to fade.
Maybe what I’d needed all along was a friend.
Or something else.
Zorro watched me with purpose as I gathered the little boy into my arms, gently placing the Matchbox car still in his hand onto the coffee table.
Like mother, like son. He hadn’t gotten all of the vehicles out of the case.
He played with one or two at a time, putting them away when he was finished. How many kids did that?
Violet followed as I headed up the stairs to the guest room, turning down the bed so I could place him under the covers. Doing so was another moment of feeling as if our time spent together was completely normal.
When he was safely tucked in, I backed away, lingering as the voyeur.
I remembered seeing my mom tucking in my sister, but that had been years before.
Seeing the way Violet fussed with the comforter until it was just so under his chin was a perfect sign of her love for him.
She smoothed hair from his forehead before leaning over and pressing her lips against his pale skin.
With the light left, she ran her fingers through the scruff on Zorro’s neck before walking past me. As she did, she brushed the palm of her hand against my chest.
Damn it. I could feel the thin line positioned between us fraying.
This time I had the distinct feeling it would never be redrawn.