Chapter 31
Mariah sat stiffly in the front seat as he maneuvered the pickup down the miles of ranch road, the ride made rougher by the frozen ground. God, it was taking forever to get back to her house.
She glanced at Vaughn and rolled her hands into fists. Damn him for... everything. She bit her lip. Maybe that wasn't completely fair.
Which pissed her off more? The fact that, for a second, she had considered jumping into Vaughn's mess of a life? Or the fact that no human should have as many bad things to deal with as Vaughn did?
And how about the part where he had created some kind of bizarre mind-meld. She hadn't signed on for that.
Peering out the window, she imagined that shadows grew into dark shapes with evil, red dots for eyes. Despite the insulation of her coat, she tucked her chin into the material and shoved her hands into pockets. Damn these shivers. She couldn't seem to warm up.
"More heat?" His voice pierced the silence, making her jump.
"I'm fine."
A muscle jumped on his jaw. "Yeah. Fine. Obviously." His clipped statement popped her like an emotional rubber band on tender skin.
They lapsed into an uneasy quiet, with the rumble of the truck as the background noise.
Man, she picked a winner in Vaughn, hadn't she?
That question made her as sad as the answer.
The worst part was that, sure, he had made some mistakes in the past. No question. But none of what happened today was his fault. None of it.
Could she stick with him, despite his literal demons and the fact that he might still leave town?
Maybe it was better to plan for a future devoid of Vaughn.
The issue wasn't the life-altering sex. It had nothing to do with the fact that she felt safer in his arms than she ever had anywhere else in her entire life. It wasn't that, despite their differences, they fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces.
Heck, they'd only known each other for a week.
But it felt like years.
In only a week, she'd caught glimpses of what it would be like to have a partner who cared for her but also would go to the mat for her. Literally.
Oh God, what was she going to do?
Balling her hands into fists in her coat pockets, she forced herself to take in a long, slow lungful of air, hold it for four seconds, then slowly let it out, using her go-to breathing exercise when stress became unbearable. She cycled through the breaths again, willing her shoulders and back muscles to relax when she exhaled.
He pulled the truck into her driveway.
Shoving the truck door open, she hurried to the porch, unlocked the front door, and paused. The sun was setting, and behind her, Vaughn's face fell into shadow. It would hurt, but she needed time alone to process everything.
"Well, thank you for the ride home."
"You're welcome." He didn't move but instead took up space between Mariah and the entire universe outside the house. Like he wanted to prevent anything from reaching her. Didn't work before, why should it work now?
"Um, so you have a good night," she tried again. Surely he would get the hint.
"I'm not going anywhere. That is," his voice dropped, "if you'll let me stay here with you."
Adrenaline shot through her limbs. "With me? Like last night?"
Heat flared as he met her gaze. "No. I can't imagine you want me that close to you, much less touching you." He chopped a hand through the air, stopping her protest before it left her mouth. "But that thing is still out there, and no way am I leaving you alone."
"But—"
His voice, a low gravelly sound, shredded her. "And as soon as I make sure you will not be hurt because of all my... bad stuff... I'll get out of your hair for good. I know you don't want anything to do with me after all that happened. I can't blame you."
"No, Vaughn. I don't think that."
"Then you're an idiot."
His words landed like a jab to the jaw, and she reeled backward a step. "What?"
"Hey, if you don't want me in your house, I won't argue. I can stay in the truck all night." He rubbed his temple. "But I need to be close."
"Is that you or your mental power talking?"
"Both."
Another shiver hit her, and she motioned him into the living room, flipping on the light. He took off his hat and stood a few inches inside the house but didn't move. The stark expression took her breath away.
No way could she ask him to guard her for the night. "Listen. I don't mind you staying here, but I'm sure I'll be fine."
He barked a laugh. "Fine."
"Yeah, fine."
"You weren't fine when that thing reached for you. Hell, you could have broken your neck falling off the back of that horse."
She stepped in front of him. "But I'm okay now."
With a rough knuckle, he brushed her aching jaw where she'd hit the ground. She flinched.
"Obviously."
"I'm not a fragile piece of china, you know."
"Hell yeah, I know you're tough as nails." He shoved his hand through his hair, giving him a wild appearance. "Even the biggest, baddest person in the world might not be able to stand up to whatever was out there tonight."
"That creature wasn't your fault, Vaughn."
"Wasn't it? Maybe not, but it was my fault that it got close enough to hurt you. And you'd better believe I won't make that same mistake again."
Her nerves sparked, irritating her skin, followed by a fleeting headache. "Hey, are you doing that psychic protective thing again?"
"Maybe. Why?"
The pieces fell together. "Because every time you do it, I get a headache. That's why I thought I was getting migraines over the past week. That's so strange."
"Well, let's ice that crappy cake." He entered the house behind her, slammed the door, and then leaned against it, hands rolled into fists and head hanging low. "An even more fucking fabulous side effect. If I leave you alone, you might get hurt. If I'm here with you, my presence will cause you pain. Damn it." He thumped his chest hard, like a bass drum. "I am sorry for everything, Mariah."
A virtual wave broke on top of her, pushing her underwater. "Everything?" she whispered.
"Listen to me." She had to strain to hear him. The words barely escaped his clenched jaw. "I would never trade what we had together last night for anything in the world. But somehow, because of our connection, it puts you square in the crosshairs of god-knows-what. Even worse, the simple act of being near me causes you pain. If anything happens to you, I'm not sure if I could live with myself."
Hot bubbles burst in her head; she blinked back tears. "So you're taking the blame for something you had no control over?"
"Well—
She crossed her arms. "Hush. I'm not done." His mouth gaped open. "When will you get it? You can't control everything that happens in life. You can't dictate someone's feelings. You can't make people behave in a certain way. We have no power over choices that other people make. Hell, I know that as well as anyone, with my past. So get it through your thick skull. None of this is your fault."
"Mariah." It sounded like the word had been ripped from his soul.
Lifting a hand, she shook her head. "Know what? I'm done talking. You want to wallow in self-pity and blame? Be my guest. But don't make me a party to it." She pointed. "In the hall closet, there's bedding for the sofa couch, if you'd like. Take whatever food you want from the fridge and pantry. I'm done for the night."
"But what about...?
"Your past?" she snapped. He reared back. Good. Maybe this gut-wrencher of a chat would shake him out of his self-pity. "You know what? You're right. People make bad decisions. Sometimes they make horrible ones. You can't fix what happened in the past. But you sure as hell can learn from it and become better for it. So, yes, I'm disappointed by some of your past, but I am judging the man in front of me today. Got it?"
"I'm sor—"
"If you complete that statement, I cannot be held responsible for what I do." She ignored the quirk at a corner of his mouth before she walked away. Spinning back, she pointed at her temple. "And for at least a minute, could you stop whatever the hell you're doing that involves my head? If the Tylenol doesn't fix this headache, you're going to have hell to pay. Now, let me get some rest. I have to work tomorrow."
Slamming the door to her bedroom satisfied her for all of ten seconds, until she sank to the bed and dropped her head in her hands. Never had she said things like that to anyone before. Should she apologize? Not yet.
Let him think about it.
She pulled on pajama pants and a tank top and crawled into her cold, empty bed.
Tomorrow she'd reassess where things stood and decide whether her heart could handle another try at a relationship with Vaughn or not.