Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Matt/Gorath
It felt good to finally have some energy again.
My old appetite was almost back. I’d put away four eggs, six slices of bacon, and plenty of waffles for breakfast, but by lunch, I was still starving.
I slapped together a sandwich and some mac and cheese, grateful that the common room had a silent chill to it. Just the way I liked it.
I could sit and enjoy my food in peace.
But the sandwich turned to sawdust in my mouth the moment Mandie appeared.
She stood in the doorway, one hand clutching a damp towel just above the swell of her breasts, the other gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping her from unraveling.
The towel was dark blue, a color that made her skin look warmer, like sunlight on pale sand.
It clung to the curve of her hip, the tattoos on her arms still slick with water, ink glistening like oil on wet pavement.
Her hair, usually pulled back in a tight knot, was loose and damp, strands clinging to the nape of her neck.
She looked like she’d been caught mid-escape. Guilt was written all over her face, like a teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend. But she wasn't a teenager. She was an incredible woman, and I could almost taste her.
Then I realized where she’d come from.
"Did you just come from Doc’s room?" I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.
Her fingers twitched against the towel, knuckles whitening. "Yeah." Her voice was steady, but tight. "Water pressure in my shower is nonexistent. His has enough force to strip paint." A pause. "He said it was fine if I used it."
I grunted, wiping my hands on a napkin. Water pressure? That didn't make sense. The Keystone’s plumbing was uniform. "Where’s Doc now?"
"Gym." She jerked her chin toward the hall.
Doc was a powerful hero, but I’d never seen that man lift a weight in his life. What was going on?
I folded my arms, the movement making my sleeves strain against my biceps. Her gaze flicked to them, then away.
"Sorry," I said. "I can see you were trying to get back to your room to change. I'll let you go."
She sighed. "We are both adults, Matt. And I am covered. I think we need to talk."
Here we go. It was always the attractive ones who wanted to talk. I pushed my plate away. "You need something?"
She hesitated. Her bare toes curled against the tile floor, nails painted a chipped dark red. "Your night terrors," she said finally. "Are they better?"
The question hit like a round to the chest. I hadn’t expected her to ask. Most people in the Keystone pretended not to notice when I woke up drenched in sweat.
But Mandie? She’d been there. Her voice had cut through the fog like a blade. Breathe, you oversized ox.
I nodded. "Yeah. They’re better."
Something in her posture eased. The hand clutching the towel loosened slightly. "Good."
I should’ve left it at that. Should’ve let her walk away. But the words were already climbing up my throat. "It’s because of you."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"You." I drummed my fingers against the table.
"That night. You didn’t… treat me like I was broken.
Just told me to shut the hell up and deal with it.
Then, you listened. You stayed." A rough laugh scraped out of me.
"Usually, only Doc listens, but until his time is up.
But you stayed with me the whole night."
Mandie’s expression did something complicated. Her brows drew together, but her mouth softened. "Well," she said dryly. "You’re welcome, I guess."
"There’s something else."
Her eyes cut to mine, sharp as shattered glass. "There’s always something else with you." A hint of flirtation colored her tone now.
"Not like that." I rubbed the back of my neck. "The pits I told you about... the one in Iraq, and the one in Arizona? There’s a third one."
She crossed her arms, which did interesting things to the towel. The fabric dipped, revealing the faintest shadow between her breasts before she adjusted it.
"Matt! You should have told me this the other night!"
The way she said my name tugged at my heart. I tried to ignore the way my pulse jumped.
"It is a metaphorical pit," I said. "Deeper than the others."
Mandie waited. She had the patience of a sniper.
I exhaled. "I got arrested once. I’d just finished hauling a truck to Boston and back. As soon as I returned, my wife asked me to go pick up some steaks for dinner."
"All that driving, and she had you drive some more as soon as you got home?"
"That part never bothered me. I was always happy to help. But when I returned thirty minutes later, the police were there. One of them cuffed and arrested me. My ten-year-old daughter was there to see it."
"Arrested for what?"
"Domestic violence charge. Never laid a hand on my wife. Never even raised my voice to her." My knuckles cracked as I made a fist. "But the cop who arrested me? He believed her. Threw me in a cell like an animal."
"Jesus, I am sorry, Matt."
"When I got out on bail, I went home. Found her in bed with him."
"With who?"
"The cop who arrested me."
"Okay, now that is seriously fucked up."
The towel slipped another inch. Mandie didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
"I lost it," I admitted. "I hit him. Broke his jaw, two ribs. Would’ve killed him if the neighbors hadn’t called it in." I met her gaze. "My daughter saw me hit the cop. She never saw me the same again."
"Hell, I would have hit the cop too!"
"That’s why I can’t go back. It’s why my daughter refuses to look at me. I’m not just the guy who got framed. I’m the guy who proved them right."
Mandie’s face changed. The sharp edges of her skepticism blurred into something raw.
"Fuck," she breathed.
Yeah. That about summed it up.
"Your wife," she said. "She ever explain why?"
I shook my head. "No. And I didn’t ask." A bitter laugh escaped me. "Guess I figured if she could lie about that, she could lie about anything. Figured she had been seeing that cop for a while and they set me up."
Mandie’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Men are so fucking stupid."
I blinked. "Come again?"
"You." She stabbed a finger at me. "You just accepted it. Like it was your penance. Like you deserved to be the villain in her story." Her voice dropped, low and rough.
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
She leaned in close enough that I could see the freckle beneath her left eye. "You should have called her out on her bullshit. Gotten a lawyer. Sued the police for false arrest."
"But what about my daughter? I didn't want to put her through all that."
"Your daughter is tough like you. She would have been fine. At least she would have had her father. Her real father. Not some shady couple spreading lies."
The words hit like a defibrillator. My chest ached.
"My daughter is all I ever wanted. She is twenty years old now in college. She is the reason I became a hero. I thought, if I saved enough people, she would reach out to me and forgive me."
Mandie hugged my bicep and kissed my arm. "Maybe it is time to stop waiting for her to reach out. It is time for you to make the first move."
Before I could respond, the gym door slammed open. Doc’s voice echoed down the hall, sharp with irritation.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Mandie’s head whipped towards him. The towel slipped another inch, revealing the flash of a tattoo low on her hip, a black heart.
I should’ve looked away. I didn’t.
Her eyes snapped back to mine, hazel dark with frustration. "You’re staring," she said, voice low.
"Yeah."
Her lips quirked into a slight smile before she turned to Doc.
"Relax, Doc. I was just leaving. Thanks for letting me use your shower. It was great as always."
She turned on her heel, the towel flaring around her thighs as she stalked toward the hallway. I watched her go, watched the defiance in her stride.
"Did you want to have a session, Matt?" Doc asked me, still flustered.
"Later."
I had something else to do first.
I caught up with Mandie in the hallway, my longer strides eating the distance. She didn’t slow down, but her spine stiffened.
"Mandie."
She stopped but didn’t turn around. "What?"
I reached out, my fingers brushing the damp strand of hair sticking to her neck. She flinched but didn’t pull away. "Thanks," I said quietly. "For not bullshitting me."
She exhaled—a sound half-laugh, half-sigh. "No problem."
I smirked. "You think you could help me relax later? I promise, no funny stuff. I just sleep better when you are there."
She finally turned, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. "You’re gonna make me regret this," she said, but there was no bite in it. Just resignation.
"Probably," I admitted.
She studied me for a long moment, searching my face. Then she reached up, fingers tracing the line of my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. The touch sent a jolt through me like a live wire.
"Your daughter," she said suddenly. "What’s her name?"
The question threw me. I hadn’t expected it. My throat tightened. "Lila."
Mandie’s fingers stilled. "I'll come by later."
Later couldn't get here soon enough.