“But you won’t. I saw it on your face. That’s why I stayed. We should talk.”
“What did you see?” he asked. Rory pulled the gun out of the waist of his jeans, opened it to see it was full, then closed it and set it on the table in the living room.
“I’ll get more bullets for you from Clay. He wouldn’t have carried it all here with Ford to find out.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Ford knows exactly what your brother did.”
She laughed. “He does, but since he didn’t witness it and wasn’t around to have it voiced, he’s good. He knows that.”
It’d tug at her brother’s conscience, but he’d ride the line of the law carefully to protect everyone. Family would always come first.
“I was actually going to talk to Ford about this if Clay hadn’t given me a gun.”
“Ford would have found a way around things, but this is better for all involved.” She moved closer to him on the couch, her hand went to his arm, then rested on his thigh.
It had been a whirlwind of a day as emotions pitched and dropped with more twists and turns than a roller coaster. She wasn’t used to this kind of storm inside her, the way personal bled into logical until she couldn’t tell the difference.
With men, logic had never been her strong suit anyway. And with Rory… she wasn’t even sure where she stood, or if she was standing with him at all.
No, that was wrong. She was standing with him, but she didn’t know if he really wanted her there.
That was what she needed to know. The chaotic emotions that spread across his features as he watched her stating she was staying while her brothers and he told her to leave.
“I’m not sure who it’s best for,” he said. “I feel guilty that I’m using you.”
And that was what she didn’t want. “Are you going to be one of those guys to start a fight with me so that I’ll walk away? I mean, really. That’s idiot 101 if you think I’ll fall for it.”
His shoulders dropped. “I won’t. I’m sure I’ll piss you off, but I’m not going to do it on purpose. I really don’t want you hurt. And that’s the truth. There is a massive part of me that is using you. Some of it was for personal reasons, some of it was revenge for my sister, my mother, this community. It doesn’t always sit well to carry it either.”
She picked her legs up and put them over his lap to move closer, her arm going around his shoulder. “Rory, lots of times shit doesn’t feel comfortable. That’s part of life. You’re not the only one who wants answers. My brother does too, even if he’s not happy I’m in the middle of this.”
“Something tells me you’re in the middle of a lot of things your brothers might not approve of.”
“You’d be right. You haven’t even met Blaze and Ash. The four of them together.” She shivered. “That’s why I’m as strong as I am. If I can handle them, I can handle this. And maybe because I know they are all in my corner it makes it easier.”
“I’m there too,” he said quietly.
“I know.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “Tell me what is going through your mind. Get it out. You’ll feel better for it. There is more there than you want to let on.”
He reached and shifted her so that she was on his lap now, her feet on the couch, her head against his chest.
“What I said is true… but it’s not the whole truth. For years, I’ve just been stumbling from one day to the next, telling myself I’m fine when I’m nowhere close. I’ve been lying to everyone, but mostly to myself. Rene… she’s the only thing that keeps me moving even when it feels impossible. And the writing, for as much as it gives me pleasure and a purpose, it often feels just like a distraction. Something to fill the silence to trick myself into thinking I’m living, when really I’m just waiting. Waiting until I can finish what I should’ve finished a long time ago.”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” she said softly. “Don’t take something you love and reduce it to nothing. I’m on my second book of yours, Rory. What you write isn’t empty. It’s alive. It hits right here.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Your words make me shiver, make me cry, make me want to hunt down the killer myself and fight for the victim. That’s not meaningless. That’s talent. And it’s only getting sharper. Maybe what happened to Rene bleeds through your pages, or maybe it’s all the things you’ve buried inside finally finding a way out. Either way, writing isn’t just a distraction, it’s your therapy, your voice and your way of surviving.”
His head dropped to her shoulder. “I want more than just getting through the days. I want to feel like I’m alive again, not just pretending I am. It’s you. You’re the one pulling it outof me. Pulling things I’ve never let myself feel. It’s terrifying because it feels selfish to want you, to want this, when I should give everything to Rene. But with you, for the first time, I don’t feel hollow. I feel like maybe there’s something left of me worth saving.”
“Then tonight we are going to both feel alive. We are putting the memories in the past. This moment, this time, it’s for us.”
Because everything he’d voiced was exactly what she’d felt.
Those hollow feelings in her body were there also. Not for the same reason as him, maybe not even as deeply as his were.
But wanting to live in the moment, wanting to feel like she wasn’t just moving from one day to the next to prove her worth felt on the same level.
She cupped his face, pressing her mouth to his with a force that left no space between them.
The kiss was consuming, savage and urgent, with his tongue exploring, her lips yielding, letting him take control in a way she never had before. Not in her life. Not with any man.
