Breaking Even (31 page)

He sighs as he looks out the window with me. “Then maybe it’s time to face how you really fucking feel about her. I won’t pretend to understand what all you went through, but maybe Brin was dropped off across the street from you for a reason. Ash healed Tag. Dane healed Rain—and the other way around... Maybe Brin is what is going to heal you.”

“Gee, Dr. Phil, any more great wisdom to share?” I ask with a sarcastic lilt, and he rolls his eyes.

“Just trying to fucking help.”

Wren becomes a forgotten fixture when a cab pulls up, and Brin steps out after paying the guy. What the fucking hell is going on?

I’m running across the street before I know it, and she’s turning to face me just as she unlocks the door to her house.

“You need to shave,” she says, surprising me for long enough to get the door almost shut before I can speak.

“Brin, where’s your car?” I ask, shouldering through the door before she can lock it on me.

She curses under her breath and glares at the door like it just betrayed her. I give the two of them a moment, but she finally turns back to me as I stare expectantly.

“It’s getting some work done.”

All the worst possible scenarios rattle around in my head as the gut-clenching feeling invades.

“Did you wreck? Are you okay? Have you been in the hospital or something?”

She sighs as she drops her purse to the floor, and then she comes over to me. I glance down at her work attire, and a little relief settles in my bones. She wouldn’t be at work if she was hurt.

When she grabs the back of my neck, I almost bash my mouth into hers for the kiss I’ve been starving for.

My hands are on her, my body pushes against her, and I can’t get enough of her taste when she gives me what I’ve been desperately missing. She jumps up and wraps her legs around me, and I groan into her mouth while pushing her up against the wall. This is so damn right.

Her tongue toys with mine, and I start trying to figure out the best way to get my pants down. But before I can, she pulls back, drops to the ground, and pushes me away when I try to resume the perfect kiss. My mouth opens in disbelief when she goes to open the door.

“Go. I’m fine. Just a bad few days.”

I stand my ground and give her an incredulous look. “What the hell? You just kissed me.”

“Confused?” she asks, crossing her arms under her perky breasts that jut out from the motion, but it only distracts me for a second.

“Pretty fucking confused, yeah,” I growl.

“Good. Welcome to my hell. We’re even. Now go.”

I try to say something, but I have no idea what to say. She just kissed me, put her legs around me, and now she’s kicking me out just when things were getting good. Is this really how she feels right now? Because I think my head is going to explode.

Chapter 17

***

RYE

Maggie steps out of her car and walks toward me with a frown.

“Why was it so urgent we meet?” she asks, standing beside my bike as I knock down the stand. Slowly, I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest as we move to the sidewalk and out of the city street.

“Because something has obviously happened to Brin’s car and I want to know what. No one else can fix her car better than my garage. So tell me where it is.”

She rolls her eyes as she fidgets uncomfortably.

“Do you even go to your garage anymore?”

“I’m there enough. Where’s her car? I’ll have it towed to my place. I don’t want some hack mechanic touching the vehicle she drives. I don’t understand how it tore up to begin with. We replaced—”

“It didn’t tear up,” she mutters, inhaling regretfully. “Pawn shop took it. Her ex pawned her title for a grand, but the interest added up when he didn’t pay for it, and Brin couldn’t pay the six grand in time. She refused to take my money or tell me which pawn shop. I even went to several trying to find the right one.”

“How the hell could he have pawned it without taking it in for them to appraise the value?”

It’s sure as hell worth more than a grand now that I’ve added all that shit to it.

“She was missing her spare keys when she moved out. More than likely he had them. All he’d have to do is borrow it from the museum parking lot for long enough to get the appraisal done, and he knows her work hours.”

What a fucking asshole.

I climb back onto my bike, and strap up my helmet as Maggie calls the jerk a string of unsavory names.

“Where does her ex live?” I ask, already turning on my bike as she gives me the address. It’s not too far from here.

“Don’t kill him,” she says loudly, trying to reach my ears over the roar of the engine.

I pretend as though I don’t hear her, because I’m not making any promises.

***

RYE

As soon as the door opens, my fist is connecting with the prick’s face and he’s falling backwards, yelping in surprise as blood spurts from his nose.

He’s not really what I expected. Brin needs a real man, and this weasel is curled up and crying. How did she live with him that long?

“Which pawn shop?” I growl, glaring at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he gasps, trying to crawl away from me when I near him.

“Where’d you pawn Brin’s title?”

I raise my fist up, but he throws both hands up while turning his face away. “Shit! She knows which one it is. It’s the one on Belker Street. Fuck!”

“What else do you owe? Is she paying off any more of your fucking debts?” I snap.

“Just my credit cards. They’re in her name though. Her name, her problem.”

I’d love to throttle this weasel all day long. But Brin needs her car. He’s fucking lucky she needs her car.

I step back as he warily stands, and I make my way toward the door. But it just seems too easy.

“Ah, fuck it,” I mutter before turning around and punching him one more time. As he falls to the ground, tears pouring from his eyes, I smirk. “Fuck with her ever again, and I’ll make sure it hurts a lot worse next time.”

With that, I turn around and head toward Belker Street.

Chapter 18

BRIN

“Sick!” Maggie screams, spewing her coffee everywhere. “When the hell did he do that?”

I shouldn’t be grinning because Rye exchanged the sugar with salt.

“I don’t know, but there’s baby oil in the soap dispensers. And I found a rubber snake in my panty drawer. Also, there’s a present in the living room that I’m scared to unwrap. He left it at the front door.”

I stare at the pretty disguise the present is wearing. Maggie tilts her head with me, and we both gaze curiously at the innocuous looking gift.

He’s not letting me go. He’s fighting. Maybe this is close enough? I’m sick of waiting on him to really let me in, but am I strong enough to let him keep me just close enough?

Maggie curses her cup of coffee as she drops to the couch. “Would it be too cliché to go borrow some sugar from one of the neighbors?”

I laugh lightly, but my eyes don’t move from the present. There’s no telling what masterminded prank lies beneath the red wrapping paper.

“What do you think it is?” she asks, both of us eyeing it very cautiously.

“A wicked jack in the box. A food bomb of some sort. Or maybe a dead rodent,” I say with a shrug.

“Why are you grinning?” she asks, smiling just like me.

I lean back and look through the large window at the house across the street.

“Because he still hasn’t given up. Now he’s trying to get me to come to him. He hasn’t bothered me since the other day.”

His bike rolls up in his yard, and a myriad of feelings wash through my stomach. But I frown when I see it’s Ethan stepping off. Why is Ethan driving Rye’s motorcycle?

Then I see my Camry pulling up to my side of the curb, and I’m almost positive my heart leaps into my throat. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

“I guess he beat it out of John,” Maggie says with a grin I can feel.

I turn to her, and sure enough, her smile is broadly pasted onto her face. “John? He went to see John?” I ask, feeling sicker by the second.

John is dead. Rye is going to need an alibi.

“He asked what happened to your car. I told him. He found the pawn shop somehow—meaning he had to have gotten it out of John. And here he comes.”

Shit. I’m crying. Again. I hate crying, but this confusing bastard does so many crazy things to my heart.

I open the door before he reaches the top of the porch, and I’m in his arms before he can even tell me what he’s done. He smiles as he hugs me and kisses me on the head, but then he puts distance between us as he backs up.

“You’re not mad,” he says in relief, his whole body visibly relaxing.

How can I get mad?

“You didn’t have to do this,” I whisper, scared of speaking in any other tone.

He stares at me for a moment, and his eyes change. They look different than I’ve ever seen them before. Then he clears his throat and nods toward the car.

“If you have any more problems, let me know. Don’t ever deal with your ex directly again.”

That’s... worrisome. John really might be dead.

“What did you do?” I ask while following him, trying to keep up with his long strides.

I only get a glimpse of his smirk before it vanishes.

“Handled it.”

I glance down to his knuckles, but they show no proof of problems.

“He’ll sue you if you hurt him. He’s a money-hungry son of a bitch.”

He laughs as he slows down and tosses his arm around my shoulders. My heart does that freaky fluttering thing as he guides me toward my car.

“If some psycho charges into your home and punches you, then you might call the cops. But not if you’ve forged your ex-wife’s name on a title transfer. Not to mention, someone once told me that the tattoos make me look like a bad boy,” he says while winking.

Heart is still fluttering.

“How did you know—”

“Pawn shop guy told me everything. He’s a regular at my garage.” He pauses as we near my car. “I took it by the garage and had Wrench check it out. Looks like everything is still working good, but if it acts up, call me. I’ll come get it and take it back.”

If it wouldn’t be completely crazy, I’d kiss him right now. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t do this.

But he doesn’t try to do anything or even hint at anything. I miss him. I miss him so damn much.

***

RYE

Staring up at my dad’s house for the third time this week is a little disconcerting, but I think I’m finally ready to see him.

Dad opens the door and steps out, surprising me. He never comes outside very often. He rarely goes anywhere at all anymore. Not since Mom died. He even dates online before marrying his gold diggers.

“You want to talk to me?” he asks, coming closer. He stops when he reaches the gazebo outside, and he takes a seat on the swing. “Or are you just going to keep coming by and staring up at the old house?”

With a burdened breath, I go to join him. For a long time, we both just sit here, staring into space. I finally break the silence.

“Did you go to see Brin?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “And you did good. That girl loves you. You know it’s the good love when you can see it in their eyes. All I had to do was introduce myself and the girl nearly fainted.”

I wish that didn’t make me smile. I love and hate the fact that she loves me.

“Did she tell you?” he asks, looking off into the distance.

“No. Ethan mentioned it. Apparently he saw you leaving the museum. He was going to talk to her that day, though he wouldn’t tell me why.”

He also didn’t stay after he saw my father leaving. That’s bugging me.

Dad just grins for a moment before covering it with a serious face. “Probably for the same reason I went.” Before I can ask questions, he adds, “She’s why you’re here.” And it’s not a question.

“Part of the reason,” I murmur, sitting back just as he does.

The swing rocks us back and forth, and several more long moments of silence pass between us.

“I punish myself, too,” he says, leaning his head back. I don’t have to ask him what he means, but he elaborates anyway. “I marry women who hate me, because I’m scared of having a woman who loves me. But it’s so empty when I look at them, that I have it annulled right away. Usually. Or I never marry them and just let them live here until I can’t stand it anymore. But the house is always so empty without anyone here.”

More silence. There’s nothing I want to say about that, because we’ll end up arguing.

“You love her, don’t you?” he asks earnestly.

I love her so much that I’m miserable without her. But it doesn’t change anything, does it?

Since I’m not ready to share that, I keep it to myself and stare at my motorcycle. All I can think about is Brin on the back of it, squeezing her thighs against me while she laughs excitedly.

“I’m worried about what will happen when I fuck up. Most people haven’t seen love the way I have. I guess that goes for you, too.”

He nods slowly, his eyes trained on an imaginary spot on the ground. “It tends to fuck someone up.” I almost smile when he says that. Almost.

It feels weird to sit here and have a conversation, but for the first time since I was ten, I don’t feel angry. Not at him. Not at anything. I’m just... well, I have every emotion except for anger right now. It’s different... Refreshing now that the loss of my anger is not so scary.

“I’ve already fucked with her head. I didn’t even mean to. I kept saying everything I needed to at some points, but sometimes I’d say things that I didn’t mean to. I kept giving her hope with those few slip-ups, and I kept contradicting myself with my actions. With her, all the lines were blurred and I trampled all over my own rules. And then I stomped all over her heart in the process. I’m just as confused as she is, and it’s all my fault. She was never anything but perfect to me.”

His lip quivers, but he steadies it quickly. “That’s the really good stuff. When you can’t force yourself to detach from someone, you’ve got something rare. You become consumed in the most maddening way, but it’s the best damn feeling there is out there.”