“Well, hello to you, too, precious. Raining up there? Weather got you in a shitty mood?”
“The sound of your voice has me in a shitty mood,” I retort. I want to head north through the park, but I can’t. I can’t concentrate on anything but gripping hold of this phone and listening intensely to the asshole on the other end of it. I collapse onto the bench at the entrance to the park and commence in burning holes with my eyeballs into the concrete at my feet. “Is it Lexi? Is she okay?”
“Sure. She’s out now. We’re on our way back to New Mexico.”
“She’s already out? She needs rest! You can’t have her discharged yet. She should be—”
“You think I want her up and hustling before she’s ready, Doc? I couldn’t chain the girl to the bed. She’s got legs, y’know? She used them. Got up and walked out of there before anyone knew about it. So yeah. Maybe calm your ass down.”
I hate his tone. I hate that I’m even having to listen to him right now. “So why are you calling, then, Rebel?”
“Because you need to come to New Mexico,” he answers. “You need to come make sure she gets better properly.”
A dead weight settles in my stomach. “You’re crazy. I can’t come to New Mexico.”
“Why not? Let me guess. You’re headed back to work, right? The people at the hospital need you?”
I had been about to say that, but now I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Mostly to stop myself from swearing very loudly.
“You’re gonna choose work over your sister? When she needs you? Again?” The tone in Rebel’s voice is mocking now. I am a strong person, but it almost takes more strength than I possess to stop myself from screaming into the phone.
“You know what she told you isn’t true. You know I never made that choice. Alexis never even gave me the opportunity.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But still…you’re getting the opportunity now. She needs you. She’s too proud and too humiliated to tell you that herself, so I’m telling you. You. Need. To. Come.”
The line goes dead. I lower the thing to make sure my ears aren’t deceiving me, and one look at the screen confirms that he just hung up. He actually just hung up.
What the—
“By the look on your face, someone just pissed you off. And it can’t be me for once. I only just got here.”
My breath catches in my throat. That voice. His voice. How the hell did he find me? I slowly raise my head and there he is, standing in front of me, hands in his pockets, looking…looking completely and utterly blank.
“I thought you’d call,” he says simply.
“Yeah. I know you did. Hence me not calling. Hence the note. Hence me not wanting to see you right now.” I may be telling him that I don’t want to see him, but I’m lying. When I’m away from him, I sometimes think it might be for the best. My thoughts up in Pippa’s apartment only five minutes ago are testimony to that. And yet, with him right in front of me, I don’t ever want him anywhere else. Not because I need him. Not because he makes me feel safe or that I need him to protect me. I’m strong and I’m capable, and if I really felt the need I’d just go to the police. I want him in close proximity because every time I look at the bastard now I feel his arms wrapped around me, and his chin resting on top of my head. I feel the slow in and out of his chest expanding as he breathes, holding me tight to him. I’ve done my absolute best not to think about it, but everything changed when Zeth held me back at Julio’s.
I’ve been drawn to him for the sex. I’ve been drawn to him for the power he exudes. Hell, I’ve been drawn to him for his arrogance and his sheer cockiness, which is infuriatingly attractive. I know in my heart I could easily have walked away from all of those things, though. It would have sucked, but I could have done it. But the weaker side to this man, who seems so indestructible, is the reason why I’ve felt myself tumbling, falling, sliding down some frightening, unnameable slope. And yes, I’m the ultimate coward because that slope does have a name; I’m just too terrified to acknowledge my descent. If it were an easier journey, felt more like I was floating gently, wonderfully, drunkenly through the whole thing like most other people get to, and I thought I might get a cushioned landing at the bottom, then I might be less worried. But this kind of falling involves bumps and scrapes, and wounds too raw to comprehend. And if I’m honest with myself, probably a bruised if not altogether broken heart.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
He gives me a stern glare, but I know him now. I know by the slight flicker in his eyes that he’s not one hundred percent sure he should be here. “Yeah. About that,” he growls. “We’re gonna have a conversation, you and I.”