This time her face wasn’t all tweaked with dissatisfaction directed at me, but in its place was a shaky, fumbling concern as she cautiously met my eye as I carried Shea into the room.
Carefully, I laid her down on the worn leather couch pushed up against the wall. I took to a knee at her side and brushed back the hair sticking to her sweet, sweet face, and I knew there wasn’t a chance she couldn’t feel the turmoil trembling through me, the care I shouldn’t feel. The adrenaline-infused chaos clouding my head was beginning to clear, leaving me with a foreign feeling snarled like a viper in my gut.
Charlie nudged me aside, and I let him wedge in to get a better spot near the girl who’d undone something inside of me.
“Tamar,” he yelled, looking at Red. “Grab me a warm wet cloth and some ice, would you?”
She nodded and shuffled out.
“Shea Bear,” he murmured when he turned back to her, his voice hoarse, hands trembling just about as grimly as the panicked fever in my heart. “You hurt, baby girl?”
Groaning, Shea pressed the heel of her hand gingerly to her temple. Her eyes fluttered open. “I hit my head…but I think I’m okay.” She blinked and tried to orient herself. “That guy…he…he…”
Flustered, she attempted to sit up and Charlie lightly prodded her back down. “Watch yourself, sweetheart. Let’s make sure you’re okay before you go out there with claws bared, seeking retaliation.” The words cracked on the joke, his own fear patent.
“Baz,” she whispered toward the ceiling as if she’d just realized I’d remained there with her. My name falling from her lips had me slipping a little deeper. My pulse was going crazy and I edged farther back to put some much-needed space between us, beginning to pace as I tried to sort out everything I was feeling. I gripped a handful of hair, looked back on the girl who lay on the couch.
At her light and her dark and her peace and her torment.
Lying there in silence, she was clearly trying to come to grips with everything, too.
“I know, Bear, I know,” Charlie rumbled low. “We all know. You’re okay. We’ve got you.” Charlie issued the soothing promise while peering in my direction, obviously curious about my role in the whole we got you bit.
I was pretty damned curious, too.
Because right then I wanted to claim it.
I’ve got you.
And just for a little while, I didn’t want to let go.
HIS STRANGE INTENSITY FILLED THE ROOM. But this time…this time it was different. Elevated and agitated and disturbed. He paced back and forth behind Charlie, a tensed-up bundle of rattled nerves, his attention set on his heavy black boots as he took the room in long, strong strides, then pivoted and took it again. But I could feel the weight of severe grey eyes when he’d cast sly, beseeching looks at me each time he passed. Looks that brimmed with the same turmoil I’d swam in for the last four days. Looks I wasn’t entirely sure he knew I was aware he was stealing.
And it rattled me.
After the way he’d left me standing with Kallie on the sidewalk at the beginning of the week, I’d been certain I’d never see him again, sure he’d never again grace that secluded spot in the bar that I’d come to know as his own.
The sick thing was I’d actually been mourning him, my movements slowed with sadness, my heart a heavy weight where it beat sluggishly in my chest. Because I was wanting things I couldn’t have, simple dreams crushed before they ever had the chance to take flight. But they’d somehow taken root, burrowed deep where the dark, forbidden things in my world were stored like a burden, a closet full of dressed-up skeletons that would forever grieve what was never meant to be.
Still, there was no stopping the way my thoughts were drawn there each time I stepped into the bar, fully expecting to never see him again while equally clinging to the fading hope to catch one last glimpse.