Chapter 10 #2
“Maverick…” I pressed a soft hand to his forearm. He flinched beneath my touch, a newfound horror burning in his eyes as he noticed my hand against his marred skin. “Please, let me help you.”
A string of emotions warred within his gaze, but finally with a broken sigh, he all but pried his fingers from the steering wheel. With a dip of his head, he turned and opened the driver-side door.
I’d called Charlie as soon as we’d gotten out of San Antonio and were headed towards the ranch. They’d all just been getting home, and the moment I’d mentioned a fire, Cash had taken over the call, all drunkenness having left his tone as he asked, “How long ‘til you’re here?”
With each passing moment, with every mile that we came closer to the ranch, the quieter and more withdrawn Maverick became.
He was like a ghost. A wraith. A shell of a human.
His body was here, but there was no light inside.
That same glassy look had returned to his eyes, and even though he was sitting next to me, petting Brandy methodically with one hand while clutching mine in the other, I knew he was somewhere faraway.
I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. Not that I thought saying anything would help at that point anyway. So, I did the only thing I could think of that eased the tension. I sang.
It was nearly two in the morning when the Mercenary Ranch sign came into view.
Relief trickled through me, but it wasn’t enough to quell the trepidation clawing in my chest. The lights were on in Charlie and Ryder’s house, and before I’d even fully made it up the drive, three dark figures dashed down the front steps and toward the circular, gravel driveway.
As I pulled to a stop, Cash all but ripped open the passenger-side door.
A seriousness I’d never seen had settled around him like a shroud, shining him in a completely new light.
This wasn’t the man-whore who was as obnoxious as he was attractive. This Cash was new. Fierce. Valiant.
“Maverick.” Cash’s voice was both soothing and stern all at once as he loomed in the passenger seat doorway. “Oh, shit—”
Brandy growled at Maverick’s feet. It hadn’t taken long for her to deem herself his personal protector. Cash took a step back, worry and determination to help his cousin fighting for dominance in his features.
I stroked a hand down Brandy’s back. “Shh, it’s okay, girl. Let him help.”
Brandy’s brown eyes flicked to mine, a silent question lingering there. I gave her another pet and nodded. All of the tension left her in a moment as she turned back to Maverick and Cash. She still eyed the brown-haired cowboy warily, but she wasn’t growling, so there was that.
Something about Cash’s voice broke whatever catatonic state Maverick was in enough for him to glance at up. And I don’t know what happened, or what silent conversation the two of them shared, but after a moment Cash nodded, the look in his face as haunted as Maverick’s.
“Fuck.” He blew out a breath. “Okay, Ryder, help me get him into the house.”
Worry gnawed at my stomach, my heart. What had happened to Maverick? Why was Cash so scared? I hopped out of the truck and came around to the other side, where Charlie wrapped me in a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “What happened? Here…let’s get you cleaned up and you can tell me, okay?”
I nodded, snapping my fingers for Brandy to come. She hopped out of the truck and settled at my heels. We hadn’t even made it a few steps toward the house before I noticed Maverick’s unmoving frame. “What’s goin’ on?” I asked, coming up to Ryder and Cash.
Cash cast a confused, worried glance my way. “I think he wants you with him.”
“Me?” I frowned. “Why?”
Surely, Cash and Ryder could take care of him better than me. Especially Cash. He’d dealt with something like this before, obviously. He moved and handled Maverick with a purpose, a surety, yet softness that I’d never seen before. He didn’t need my help. Probably not even Ryder’s, to be honest.
But as my worried gaze settled on Maverick, I noticed panic in his eyes despite his stoic stance.
It was odd. Seeing so much silent emotion swirling in the jade depths, but not an ounce of it transferred to his body, to his face.
He didn’t cry. He’d stopped trembling. But emotion brewed from within.
Guilt ate at me. This was my fault. I hadn’t forced him into that fire, but if he hadn’t come home with me, he wouldn’t be like this. Had he not come with me, though, Brandy would likely be dead. He’d saved her. Charged into a blazing trailer with no second thought.
So, when Maverick reached out a silent hand, the look in his eyes pleading, I took it.
Getting Maverick into the house was easy enough.
Charlie broke off toward the kitchen, mentioning something about getting some coffee going.
I couldn’t think of drinking or eating anything right now, though.
Not with my stomach tied in knots and the lingering scent of smoke stuck to the back of my throat.
I kept my hand in Maverick’s calloused one, my thumb tracing reassuring circles along the back of his palm in a silent show of comfort.
Cash moved on certain steps through the main living room and off to the right—toward the long hall of bedrooms, if I was correct.
I hadn’t been here much, but I remembered Charlie and Ryder giving me the tour during their engagement party a couple weeks ago.
Hanging left through the first door, Cash brought us to a guest bedroom with a bathroom attached. He turned to me, concern still shimmering in his hazel stare before he focused his attention on Maverick.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay, bud?”
Maverick didn’t move as Cash disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the spray of water as he turned on the shower. I glanced up at Maverick. “I’m gonna let you get showered, okay? I’ll be right here waiting.”
He didn’t answer, but his grip tightened around mine, his body tensing ever so slightly as his eyes flashed with panic.
My brows knit together. “You want me to stay?”
Another squeeze of my hand.
Well, that was settled. I nodded, and blew out a soft breath before saying, “Okay, come on then.”
Cash came back out as I took a step in his direction. “Alright, shower’s ready, bud.”
“I’ll get him cleaned up,” I told Cash, noting the confusion on his face.
His head cocked to the side before glancing at Maverick. The two of them shared another one of those silent conversations for a moment before he looked back at me and stepped out of the way. “I’ll go grab some clothes. Holler if you need anything.”
I led Maverick into the bathroom, the only sound that of our boots against the hardwood floors and the shower going.
Oh, and Brandy’s toenails click-clacking against the floor as she followed dutifully behind.
She wasn’t about to let me or Maverick out of her sights anytime soon.
“Stay, girl,” I told her, nodding at the little rug in the corner of the room beneath a comfy looking armchair.
She gave me a reluctant look, but plopped down with a huff.
I turned back to Maverick, the harsh light of the bathroom revealing just how haunted he looked.
He was covered in ash; smudges of dark soot smeared his face.
The cut on his eyebrow looked angry and puffy beneath the butterfly bandage that he’d begrudgingly let the medic put on him.
His white tank wasn’t even white anymore, but some disgusting shade of grey with splotches of dried blood soaked into it.
And in the light, his burns were more gruesome than I’d first thought.
Okay, not gruesome, just more extensive.
I trailed my fingers down one of the mottled scars, admiration and awe gripping my heart like a vice. I couldn’t even comprehend what hell he’d gone through to get these. And he’d risked everything again for me. A stranger, basically.
He flinched away from my touch, a look of horror written plainly across his face.
“I’m sorry,” I said, whisper-soft, pulling my hand away. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower.”
In the end, I had to get in with him. It’s almost like he was terrified if he let go, I’d suddenly disappear.
So, after stripping both of us down, I settled under the spray of water before him.
It should have been odd, being in a shower naked with a guy I had no intention of hooking up with—at least not tonight.
But getting in with him, helping him in this moment was more important than my worry or any self-consciousness.
“Is this too hot? Too cold?” I asked, searching his face for any sort of emotion other than the icy hollowness shining back at me.
He shook his head, his gaze lowering to the tiled floor of the shower. God, I wished he’d talk. This…silence. It was deafening. He’d never been a talker before, but, fuck…what I’d give to hear him say something, anything, right now.
I chewed my lip a moment, feeling awkward and worried and concerned but not having a single clue how to fix any of it. Wiping water from my face, I reached for the loofah and a bottle of body wash. With trembling hands, I began scrubbing the soot off of Maverick, singing softly under my breath.
With each pass of the loofah over his skin, with each new verse I sang, the tension melted off Maverick.
Not completely. Not even by a long shot, but he wasn’t stuck in his head anymore.
His pale green eyes weren’t so glassy and glazed over.
He regarded me in silence, letting me scrub and sing without interruption.
“I used to think when I grew up that I wanted to be a singer,” I said, finishing up the chorus of my favorite Randy Travis song.
His brows knit together questioningly, though he didn’t speak.