Just great. After carefully avoiding her for two days, he actually had to talk to her now.
Sitting up, he stretched his neck from one side to the other, ignoring the tension that kept building. Avoiding Lauren meant working from sunup to sundown. He spent most of the day at the ranch, then he came back to the rental house to work.
After weeks of focusing most of his efforts on her house, it was time to turn his attention to the one he was staying in. It was in worse shape than hers, but he’d been using every excuse he had to see her—until she stabbed him with her dull and rusty knife.
Not anymore. Now, even thinking about her sent his gut into a riot.
Shuffling to the kitchen, he wiped his hand on a rag and grabbed a bowl. He stripped the blanket and sheets off the bed before placing the bowl beneath the dripping water.
Picking up his phone, he checked the time. Five in the morning. That meant Lauren was already up and moving around. The early mornings were new to him, but she greeted the day like she was a queen and the sun’s rays were her adoring subjects.
Pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder, he gathered the sheets and tossed them into the washing machine while the call rang. He poured detergent into the wash as her sweet voice said, “I’m unable to take your call right now. Please?—”
He stuffed the phone into his pocket. Was she ignoring him, or was she busy? It was the first time she hadn’t answered when he called, so the former option sounded like the better bet.
If she was still mad at him, she wasn’t the only one. He’d been torn up since the argument after her date, but what exactly was he supposed to do? He’d only apologized once in his life, and it was to Lauren, but that didn’t make him an expert in groveling.
In fact, the concept of apologies was completely lost on him. She said she’d forgiven him—whatever that meant—but how could she? He didn’t deserve it, then or now. So, what…she’d keep forgiving him? Not likely.
They’d both known it was only a matter of time before he screwed things up beyond repair anyway. Maybe it was better to let it go and quit pretending things were normal between them. Their dynamic was twisted on a good day. Now, he’d tried and failed to give her a glimpse at what he felt, and she’d kicked him out.
Never. The finality in that word stung, even if he’d been pushing to get that exact rise out of her. She’d been so full of fire, and he’d wanted it. He’d take her however he could get her. Angry, lonely, happy, tired. Whatever she was feeling, he wanted to be a part of it, and that messed up mentality was what got him to this very moment where she was avoiding his calls and reminding him that he didn’t have even a glimpse of a chance with her.
He got dressed for work and checked his phone again. Still nothing from Lauren. He’d need supplies to fix the leaky roof, and it would only get worse the longer they waited. He could stop by her place, but that meant he’d probably have to talk about the fight.
Grabbing the truck keys, he slipped out into the frigid morning and let the shock of cold wake him up. He could try to apologize, but what exactly had made her so mad? Was it that he didn’t want her to date? Or that he’d been waiting for her when she got home? Was it that he’d tried to tell her what to do?
That last one was the kicker. He hated being told what to do, and he’d done it to her. Humble pie was hard to swallow and tasted like rotten potatoes.
Lauren’s house was dark, but her car was still parked out front. Was she taking the day off? She never stayed home from work. Even when she didn’t have a shift at the library, she volunteered at church or helped out at Blackwater Hope House. The woman didn’t sit down until nine in the evenings.
He rapped his knuckles on her front door and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. His warm breath billowed in front of him as he waited.
But the wait stretched longer, and Lauren didn't come to the door. He checked his phone. Nothing.
He knocked again and waited another minute. He hadn’t used his key in a while, but he didn't feel welcome letting himself into her house anymore.
A scream came from inside, and the key ring was out of his pocket in a split second. Cold, stifffingers fumbled over the metal until he found the right one and shoved it into the lock.
He should have come sooner. He shouldn’t have stayed away. He knew she was an easy target, and he hadn’t done enough about it.
Shoving the door open wide, he shouted, “Lauren!”
Another scream came from the hallway, and he followed the echoing sound. Her bedroom door was ajar, and he stiff-armed it open as he lumbered inside. Darkness covered everything, and only a dim stream of the early dawn seeped through the sheer curtains. It was enough to see Lauren thrashing on the bed with a blanket tangled around her.
She was alone, but her breaths came hard and fast as she slung her arms and kicked her legs.
Zach flipped on the light and rushed to the bed. Grabbing her flailing arms, he tried to pin them down as she fought against him.
“Lauren! Lauren! Wake up!”
Man, she was strong. Every push and pull had the force of a desperate fighter behind it. He released his grip on her wrists and took a step back. He didn’t want to leave marks on her, but she was going to hurt herself if she didn’t stop thrashing.
Going in for a second try, he pressed his hands to her shoulders. “Lauren! Wake up!”
She let out a loud gasp and froze. Her eyes flashed open—wide and terrified in the bright light. Wisps of hair clung to her sweat-drenchedforehead.
Then she let out another scream, but this one was coherent.
