22. Chapter 22 - Cade
The images from my nightmare blend into the reality of those brief seconds that I held her in my arms.
I fucking hate myself for that moment of weakness. But the rapid rush of elation I felt when I opened my eyes to see her alive overrode my logic.
Big mistake.
Now I can’t unfeel the press of her body through the thin t-shirt or the pale flash of her thighs exposed under the long hem.
My shirt.
God damn it all.
Tossing and turning doesn’t let me fall back asleep. I only manage to doze until the light crests through the uncovered windows.
There’s a massive weight that feels as if it’s been lifted off my chest. I didn’t cause the accident that ruined my life.
It almost frees me, even knowing it’ll take a long time to rebuild the relationships I’ve severed over the years. Once the truth is out there, I know I can forge the bond with my family that I miss so desperately.
Fuck. Rosalyn has no one.
I need to find her a safe place to stay where she can find her own circle of people who will love her.
Mostly because I know that keeping her too close will blur the lines from what I should do to what I want to do.
I’m treading into dangerous ground by even entertaining the memory of holding her. But I also can’t see anyone else protecting her like I can.
Muffling my groan, I sit up and stretch my back.
This loveseat is about two feet too small for me. Never thought I was a tall guy until I tried to fold myself onto this thing.
I ain’t meant to bend that way.
When I stand, I glimpse the scattered photos on the table. I still need to go through them and see if I can find any proof that Eli fucked with it. Just because Ava was driving doesn’t get him off the hook.
It was my truck. She wasn’t even supposed to be there.
I try to be quiet when I use the bathroom, but habit has me flushing the toilet.
Damn it. Hope that didn’t wake Rosalyn.
This is all so surreal. The last person who ever slept in my bed besides me was Ava.
Now her sister is under my covers, in my fucking shirt.
And my morning hard-on isn’t going down.
Bastard. After stuffing myself into my jeans, I make a bee-line for the coffee pot.
All because I was having a bad dream. At least it wasn’t anything inappropriate.
It would have been worse if Ros had found me with my hand wrapping my dick and moaning her name while I chased visions of her naked body.
Well, that new thought isn’t helping the situation with my tight-ass zipper.
She’s too young and too vulnerable. I swore to protect her, even if that means from myself.
Strictly off limits.
“Morning.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she cracks the door open.
When she slips into the bathroom, she’s still wearing my shirt over her pants.
If we can’t get her things, I’m taking her shopping. I’m not sure what it is, but seeing her in my clothes makes me feel more possessive than I should.
I’m all messed up today. Too much is happening all at once.
She reappears with her blonde hair pulled up into a tight braid.
“I got coffee going. Want some eggs? We can swing by the store and pick up some of your favorites today.” I give a half-smile then start cracking shells.
“I can…um…I’d like that.” Her lips thin. “It might take me a little while to get used to this.”
“What?” I ask innocently. “Not having to do everything?” I pause with the spatula in the air. “First, you’re my guest. Second? I live here too and even though I’m a little beat up—” I wave my fingers towards the scars on my cheek. “—doesn’t mean I’m broken. Yet.” I toss her a smile.
Her gaze fastens on my arm and her brows knot.
When I follow her line of sight and notice the puckered skin of old wounds, it makes my guts tighten.
I bet all she sees is the marks, like all the rest.
It was stupid of me to think I’d be the one needing to hold myself in check. For what? She’d never want anything to do with me like that.
I try not to sigh as I start stirring the eggs again, while she moves behind me to get a cup of coffee.
“There’s milk in the fridge.” I toss the words over my shoulder without looking. “Sugar in the mason jar on the counter.”
It’s crazy to almost feel sad she doesn’t look at me any differently. I’d be happy to be viewed as a human, instead of, no matter what, still someone to be pitied.
That’s my least favorite emotion.
“Did you want some more coffee?” She appears at my elbow, rising onto her toes to peek into my cup.
“Sure, thanks,” I grunt. It’ll be easier for both of us if I just keep her at arm’s length.
I’ll take solace in that single act of comfort she offered me last night when I learned the truth about the accident.
“I was thinking about stopping and talking to Val about her meeting with Eli on the way back to your place? I want to see if he said anything enlightening when she turned him down.” Sometimes anger has a way of erupting a genuine admission.
“Okay.” Her fingers wrap the mug as she curls herself into the kitchen chair. “Can I stay in the car? I’m not, uh, a people person.”
“You and me both,” I mutter. “Yea, I’m fine with that. I don’t think it’ll take long.” I plate up the scrambled eggs with some toast smeared with butter. Sliding it in front of her, I push the pictures aside on the table.
“Maybe when we get back, you can use those eagle eyes to help me see if anything looks amiss on the rest of the wreck.” I want her to feel at ease, but no sooner do the words leave my mouth than her nose wrinkles.
“I’m not special. It was luck, nothing else.” She picks at the corner of the bread, pulling a crumb off to nibble.
Fuck. My body may be damaged, but her soul is broken.
“Don’t do that,” I growl. “You’re a smart, capable woman who saw something I didn’t. I’ve been staring at those pictures for over a decade and never caught what you did in a glance.”
Her cheeks pale and her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
God damn it, I want to shake her like a glowstick until she sees how strong and capable she really is.
Better yet, I want to punish the people who have knocked her down her entire life.
After letting out a long breath, I measure my tone before talking again.
“Ros, you don’t need to shrink yourself anymore.
You won’t scare me off and I won’t judge you for being you.
” I reach out and poke my finger against her kneecap in what I hope comes across as a playful gesture.
“But you acting like you’re not important and your opinions don’t matter will tick me off faster than anything.
So please be sassy, smart, sarcastic, whatever the hell you want to be. ”
Her bright blue eyes shine with unshed tears. “Even if I say something stupid? You’d still like me?”
My chest gets tight. All she wants is for anyone to accept her, even me?
“Always, Ros.” Gravel somehow gets into my throat and tinges my words. “You don’t need a shield with me.” Stabbing my fork into my food gives me a distraction from having to see anymore pain across her features.
I don’t have many friends, but I’ll be one for her if that’s what she needs.
Every time I look down at my plate, I can feel her gaze boring into me.
“Did you have anyone to help you after the accident?” she asks after a long silence.
Her question takes me by surprise. I haven’t thought about that part of my life for a really long time.
“I was in the hospital for a while. My brother helped patch me up in the beginning.” I let out a long sigh. “But then when it came out that it looked like I was the one driving, I didn’t see him again.”
I lost everything that night. At least when Mom calls I’ll finally have some good news.
“Ava used to do that for me.” She’s so quiet I can barely hear her.
It takes me a moment to process what she said.
“She used to doctor you up?” My forehead wrinkles as I squint at her. “Did you fall off your horse?”
Her lips thin and she sets her half-empty plate down. “No.” Abruptly, she stands and carries her cup to the coffee pot.
As little as she pours in, I know she’s doing it for something to busy herself.
I know that response to bad memories. I’ve done it my whole life.
“Ros, you don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable with.” I push my own cleaned dish aside to lean my elbows on my knees. “You were a kid. Nothing you did was your fault.” Even though I have a feeling someone told her it was. “Was it your dad?”
I hated that guy before.
It takes me aback when she shakes her head. “My mom used to whip me when I misbehaved.”
Hard enough that Ava needed to tend to the wounds?
My heart races with the anger coursing through me.
“I got in trouble a lot,” Rosalyn whispers.
“It wasn’t so bad before Ava died. I could almost stand it because I knew she’d be there to tell me silly stories afterwards.
” Her chin trembles. “But after she was gone, Mama took it out on me even worse.” She firms her jaw, hugging the mug between her shaking palms. “You’re gonna think I’m a monster.
” She takes a ragged breath. “I wasn’t sad when her and Papa crashed. ”
A knot fills my throat making it impossible to swallow while my hands clench on my thighs. “Ros, she should have never done that.”
I wish I could pull her into my arms and hold her tightly. Offer some sort of comfort for the pain she’s endured.
“They were the monsters.” Flattening my palms on my legs isn’t quite the same, but it’s the safe choice.
She folds herself back into her chair, refocusing on the marks that mar my arm. “At first I thought that things were better with Eli and John since they didn’t beat me. But I guess some wounds don’t exactly sit on the surface.” Her lips twist before they purse over the edge of the cup.
Then her pale eyes raise to mine. “I’m glad I’m here. I’ve never had anyone listen before.”
“I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t make me cranky hearing that they hurt you.” I try to take a deep breath to even the fiery rage festering in my gut. “I’m just glad that after today, you never have to go back.”
The corner of her mouth lifts into the first glimmer of a smile I’ve seen today. “Me too.”