Chapter Fourteen
Amanda woke in a bad mood. She ate breakfast in a bad mood. She showered in a bad mood. She did her laundry in a bad mood and she caught up on some DVR shows in a bad mood. Around three in the afternoon, after hearing the rumble of the motorcycle leaving the property, she got sick of moping around the house and obsessing over the events of the previous night. It was Monday and she’d taken the day off since she worked the weekend, planning to spend the day helping Nick in the cabins. But the burn of humiliation and anger kept her away.
“Well, forget that. You’re not wasting this entire day off,” she muttered. She wasn’t quite prepared to face Nick yet, so she wouldn’t go down to the cabins, but there was plenty to do around the main house, starting with weeding the small garden she’d planted in the back.
Amanda headed outside and attacked the garden with a vigor fueled by frustration and irritation. If she was honest with herself, which wasn’t easy in this situation, she’d have to admit only about ninety percent of her anger was directed at Nick. The last ten percent was reserved for herself.
After a few hours in the sunshine, weeding and finishing a couple other busy projects, the anger ratio switched to about fifty-fifty.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked as she hacked at an overgrown bush with a pair of hedge clippers. Somehow, with all the Dr. Michaels drama, the cathartic release that accompanied knocking down the wall, and the lust-filled electricity in the cabin, she’d forgotten who she was dealing with.
Granted she didn’t really know who Nick was, but she had a strong suspicion he was engaged in some kind of criminal activity. He was so shrouded in mystery, hardly talked about himself, and of course there was the horrific beating and shooting. Not to mention his clear disdain for the police officers who’d visited. All signs pointed to some sort of shady business.
And last night, none of that had even entered her mind. She should be thanking him for putting a halt to something that could only spell trouble. For crying out loud, she didn’t have so much as an outstanding parking ticket and she’d almost slept with a man she suspected of being a criminal.
“He was right,” she muttered. “I pretty much threw myself at him. My hormones have clearly turned me into a needy lunatic.” As awkward and embarrassing as it was, it was better this way. He was a complication she did not need in her life. But, he could have been less of a jerk about it.
“Oh crap,” she said as she realized she’d pretty much mutilated the bush. Time to call it quits before she destroyed anything else. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast quite a few hours ago. Kat wouldn’t be back for a few more days so it’d be a quiet, lonely dinner.
Sickest part of the entire situation was how she still wanted him. The small taste of him wasn’t enough. He was in her system now, like a virus she couldn’t shake. BOB hadn’t been able to provide the antidote, so she was stuck suffering the sexual frustration.
“Ugh,” she groaned as she started for the house. “Why did he have to be such a good kisser?”
“Who the fuck are you talking about?”
Amanda screamed and spun around, her heart fluttering out of control. John Michaels stood about ten feet away, hands on his hips and fire shooting from his eyes. “What the hell are you doing at my house?”
She backed up a step then realized the mistake. With her back to the house and a small staircase leading to the deck next to her, she was cornered. Fear slid through her, turning her blood cold. “What do you want?”
There was a shotgun in the house—two single women living relatively isolated, a good distance away from the local police station, just seemed like a smart idea—but she’d never get to it if he attacked. The one thing she had going for her was the sharp hedge clippers still in her hand. Thoughts of stabbing them into his flesh sickened her, but she’d do it if she had to. She’d do it to save herself. No way in hell would Michaels get the better of her.
“You know what I want. I believe I made myself pretty clear yesterday.” He relaxed his stance looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Seriously? He came here for what? A date. Despite the warmth of the day, Amanda shivered. Tracking her down and showing up uninvited was not the sign of a sane man. And people who weren’t sane were dangerous. If only Nick was home. Not that he was in any shape to take on Michaels, but another male presence might be enough to keep this situation under control.
“Look, Dr. Michaels—”
He growled and she flinched.
“Call me John. We aren’t at work, Mandy.” Hands were back on his hips and a scowl returned to his face. “And who the hell were you talking about kissing? You fucking someone, Mandy? I don’t share, and I don’t want my woman acting like a slut.”
His woman? His woman? Her blood boiled, overshadowing the nerves and fear from a moment before. “Did you just call me a slut?” She stepped forward. “What I choose to do in my personal life and who I choose to do it with is absolutely none of your business. I haven’t been your anything in months. I made it clear we had no relationship beyond a professional one when we broke up and then again yesterday. You need to leave.”
The slap came so fast, she never had a chance at dodging it. But the speed sure did nothing to diminish the pain. Her head snapped back as the entire left side of her face erupted in a fiery sting. It was hard to know which was worse, the shock of being slapped by a man or the actual pain.
As she cradled her throbbing cheek and stared at him, mouth agape, she felt like she was in some kind of alternate reality. She was completely alone and defenseless.
The hedge clippers!
Geez, how had she forgotten? With a shaking hand, she held them out in front of her as though brandishing a knife. “Stay back. Do not touch me. And leave.”
John laughed like she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “What the hell are you going to do with those, Mandy? Give me a trim?” With a lightning quick move, he slapped the shears out of her hand.
Now she was defenseless.
“I’ve had about enough of your shit, Ma—” The low rumble of motorcycle pipes had him turning toward the sound. It grew louder with each passing second, until the roar of Nick’s bike grew ear-splitting.
Amanda closed her eyes and breathed out a giant breath. Nick was here. Thank God. Despite everything that happened the night before, she had no doubt he’d help if necessary.
“Who the fuck is that?” John asked, taking two steps back for a better look at the newcomer.
“Just someone I’m renting a cabin to. You should just go.” She didn’t have a clear view of Nick from her position behind the house, but the heavy clomp of his riding boots indicated he was headed in their direction.
When he came into view she was simultaneously relieved and worried. Nick was only a few months out of some major injuries. A fight between him and John would not end well for him.
Nick sauntered up, his slightly limping gait relaxed, hands in his pockets. He looked unassuming and non-threatening. But it was a ruse. Displeasure rolled off him in waves and his eyes promised lethal consequences. “Hey folks. Enjoying the evening?”
Amanda almost laughed out loud. Hey folks?
Nick’s sharp gaze scanned John before shifting to her. When his focus encountered what had to be a very red cheek, his eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked.
“Hey, man,” John said. “Just talking to my girl. You’re renting one of the cabins?” He took a step toward Nick, arm outstretched for a handshake like that hand hadn’t just wreaked havoc on her face.
Amanda used the moment of inattention to move in front of the steps leading to the house.
Nick didn’t accept John’s hand. He stared him down while keeping his own hands in his pockets.
“Wait, I know you.” John laughed then turned and looked at her. “He was my patient. He was your patient. And now he’s living here?” He turned back to Nick. “You the one fucking her, man?”
A knot formed in Amanda’s stomach, twisting around itself until she had to fight the urge to double over in pain.
Nick tilted his head and looked at John with no more regard than he’d give a gnat. “So what if I am? You the one that put bruises on her?”
Amanda went statue-still as she waited for John’s reaction.
Seconds ticked by. The silence was almost suffocating. Then, instead of answering, John lunged forward in an all-out attack on Nick.
Shit!
Amanda raced up the steps and into the house. As mad as she might have been at Nick, there was no way she could let him get hurt coming to her defense.