Текст книги "Inked Armour"

Автор книги: Helena Hunting

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“I missed you so much. I’m sorry I was gone so long. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Her eyes lifted to meet mine, teary and bleak.

Maybe her words weren’t just for TK, maybe they were meant for me, too. I wanted to believe that, but her disappearance and refusal to call made it impossible to trust her. Actions spoke louder than words. As glad as I was to have her home, I was still angry with her for leaving in the first place. Conflicted didn’t begin to describe it.

I was also exhausted. It was almost three in the morning, and I hadn’t slept much the past week, let alone the last three.

“Why don’t you come to the living room? My couch is more comfortable than the floor. Besides, I want to take a look at the scratches on your face.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes. I do. Now come.” I put my hands under her arms and helped her to her feet while she cuddled TK to her chest.

She took in the surroundings as though she were seeing them for the first time. When we reached the living room, she sucked in a breath, her eyes on the new art adorning the walls.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated that my feelings for her were so apparent in the designs. “You want something to drink?”

“Please.” She sank down into the corner of the couch and pulled her legs up, turning so she could see the pictures hanging above it.

“You want beer or wine? Or something stronger?”

“Stronger might be good.”

I poured two glasses of scotch, resisting the urge to shoot mine and refill it immediately. I was pretty wound up and I had a lot of questions, but overwhelming her two minutes after she walked in the door—particularly after a showdown with Sienna—wouldn’t be in either of our best interests.

I handed her a glass and Tenley took a tentative sip. Her nose scrunched up in disgust.

“You don’t like it?” I asked, holding back a grin.

“It’s fine.” She took another sip, but her lips puckered as she swallowed.

“Don’t be a martyr. I’d rather you not force it down to be polite.”

“Sorry.” She passed me the drink, and I poured the contents into my glass.

“It’s an acquired taste. I’ll get you something else.” I stood up. “And I want to take care of those scratches.”

“Okay.”

She was so timid sitting there on my couch, curled up in a little ball, all the fire stolen out of her. I wanted the old Tenley back, the one who was frisky and snide. I poured her a glass of red and left her with TK sprawled over her lap.

I retrieved the first-aid kit from my bathroom, then wetted a facecloth with scalding water and wrung it out. By the time I got back to the living room, it would be cool enough to wipe her scratches.

“Let’s check the damage.” I sat beside her, getting in close so I could have a good look at what was done to her face.

“It doesn’t feel bad,” Tenley said softly, setting her wine on the coffee table.

The sleeve of her hoodie shifted with the movement, exposing part of her forearm. There were marks there, too. I took her hand and pushed the sleeve back. She flinched, even with the gentle contact. The bruises were old, faded to greenish yellow, wrapping all the way around her wrist. Like a manacle.

“Where did these come from?”

“They’re nothing.” She kept her eyes down as she pulled her sleeve over her wrist.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

She recoiled, and when she looked up, I could see her trepidation. She swallowed and clasped her hands. “Trey got a little aggressive.”

“Aggressive how?” My imagination threw out all sorts of scenarios, and all of them made me want to run him over with my car. Repeatedly.

“He grabbed my wrist harder than he should have. It wasn’t intentional, and I bruise easily.”

“Are you making excuses for that cocksucker?” I asked, incredulous.

“No. You asked what happened, and I’m telling you.”

She was still too timid. I didn’t like it, and her explanation had a lot of holes. “Did he leave any more marks?”

She shook her head. “Just the ones on my wrist. Do you want to look at my cheek now?”

I let it go. For now. While I inspected the scratches, she sat perfectly still, the model patient. It reminded of when I put that little cupcake tattoo on her, an inch to the left of her kitty.

I tilted her chin up and angled her head. She shifted closer, and her shin pressed against the outside of my thigh. Her hand came to rest on my knee. I jerked at the contact, and she pulled away. I wanted to reach over and put her hand back, but didn’t.

“Sienna has sharp nails,” I said. She’d raked them over my skin more than once.

In a couple of places, blood had welled and dried. The paranoid side of me wanted a doctor to check for tetanus and worse, but no bodily fluids had been passed—so Tenley was probably safe.

I hated that my past was the cause of this; Tenley had already dealt with enough. We both had. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned her return. I ran my fingers gently along her cheek, and she jumped.

“Does that hurt?” I asked, worried.

“No.” It came out a little breathless.

I dabbed at the scratches with the facecloth, wiping the blood away. Then I sprayed them with disinfectant and used a Q-tip to apply antibiotic ointment.

When I was done, Tenley shifted to the side, hissing at the movement.

“You need to get your hip checked out—it’s a mess.”

“It’s just achy.”

“Don’t lie to me. It pisses me the fuck off.”

She shied away, which was understandable. I was irritated and taking it out on her. So much for sidelining the anger.

I slid my arms around her, pulling her against me. Her back hit my chest and I dropped my forehead on her shoulder. “You don’t have to front if you’re in pain. It doesn’t help either of us. Just let me take care of you.”

The stiffness in her body eased, and I closed my eyes as her fingers drifted along the back of my hand to my forearm. God, I missed the way it felt to be close to her; to touch her, to be touched by her. Up, up, up her hand went; over my biceps, my shoulder, my neck, until it reached my hair, sliding through the strands. I lifted my head, my nose skimming her collarbone. I barely resisted the urge to follow with my mouth. We had too much to talk about to go there yet.

She turned into me. “I missed you.”

Her palm rested against my cheek and she urged my head up higher. Her mouth was right there.

She was the one who leaned in.

She was the one who drew me closer.

Her lips pressed against mine. She tasted just as I remembered . . . but it wasn’t the same.

7
TENLEY

What I was doing to Hayden wasn’t fair. I owed him a conversation in which I allowed him his anger. One where I accepted responsibility for leaving without an explanation. But it had been weeks since I’d felt anything good at all. His arms around me gave me the first true grounding since my return to Arden Hills.

So I kissed him. With a noise somewhere between despondency and acute need he dragged me closer, crushing me against him. TK’s little claws dug into my thighs as she jumped off my lap; she mewed at being displaced onto the floor. The ache in my hip flared as I moved to achieve more bodily contact, but I ignored it.

I might have started the kiss, but Hayden took control of it. I quickly found myself laid out on the couch, Hayden hovering over me, one leg working its way between mine. His mouth was hard, those steel rings biting into my lip. One hand went to my hair, gripping it so he could control the angle.

I needed the connection, physical and otherwise. The glorious weight of his body settled over me; his erection pressed against my hip and I moaned. With one hand firmly on the back of his neck to keep him close, the other traveled down to the dip in his spine.

I slid my palm beneath the waistband of his jeans and met bare skin. No boxers barred the contact. I dug my fingernails in the soft skin over hard muscle and pushed down. Familiar warmth rushed through my limbs and funneled straight between my thighs. He tensed and I held on tighter, terrified of what was coming. I was desperate for him, and he was going to stop this. I could tell in the way he slowed the kiss.

“Fuck.” Hayden scrambled away from me. “We can’t be doing that.”

“It’s okay.” I sat up and reached out for him.

Hayden shot off the couch and grabbed his scotch. “No, it’s not okay. We have shit we need to work out, and that kind of business isn’t going to help a damn thing.”

He was right, of course. Not that I would say it outright.

“I know you’re angry with me.” I touched my lips. They were still wet.

“Angry? You have no idea what the past three weeks have been like for me.” He headed for the kitchen, putting distance between us.

“Yes, I do.” At least I could imagine.

We’d been in a similar situation before, I realized. After the engagement party at Lisa and Jamie’s, when I found him in the bathroom with Sienna and that other woman. One of us putting up walls for protection; the other looking for a way in. This time I was the one seeking forgiveness, while Hayden donned his armor.

His hand came down on the counter with a heavy thud. “No. You don’t. You left me—not the other way around. So don’t tell me you know, because you don’t. It fucking ruined me.”

“Do you think it didn’t hurt to leave?”

“Oh, yeah, it must have torn you right up. So much that you didn’t even bother to call. Not me, anyway. Not once.”

This was what I had been expecting; the anger, the hurt. “I couldn’t call you.”

“Why not? Trey wouldn’t have approved? Did he chain you up in a cell and refuse to give you access to a phone? Or were you only allowed to have contact with your girlfriends? That must have been it: only the degenerate was off-limits.”

“That wasn’t it. If I’d talked to you, I never would have stayed.”

“And would it have been so bad, to come back here and be with me? How stupid do think I felt after I went to Arden Hills to bring you home, only to have you shut me out completely?”

“What? You came to Arden Hills? When?” I asked, stunned.

“The night you took off, I came after you. Trey wouldn’t even come to the door. Just threatened me through the goddamn intercom and called the fucking police.”

“Oh my God. I didn’t know, Hayden. He never told me.” The first two days had been the worst. I’d locked myself in Connor’s old bedroom and cried until I didn’t have any tears left.

“I would have told you—if you’d bothered to return one of my fucking phone calls. But you didn’t. Not even once. I don’t get it. I don’t even understand why you wanted to be there in the first place. Especially with that asshole lording over you. I would have helped you find a lawyer to deal with things here, if you’d let me.”

“It wasn’t that simple. There were things I had to take care of.”

“Everyone is gone; you could have dealt with it from here!” Hayden yelled.

At this verbal slap in the face, I closed my eyes against the pain. When I opened them again, I could see his regret, but the words were out and he couldn’t take them back.

“I know they’re gone, Hayden. I live with it every day.” I got up.

He left the kitchen, barricading me between the couch and coffee table. “I’m sorry, that was a dickhead thing to say. I didn’t mean it. I’m just trying to understand. The last time we were together, we were closer than we’ve ever been. When Trey showed up, you let him shit all over what we had. Then you pretty much backed him up when you told me to leave and disappeared for three weeks. I’m confused. I want you here, but I’m just so—”

He stopped, unable to get the rest out. I could see his conflict; fear overriding everything. As though what he wanted to say would make me disappear again.

I hadn’t given him any reason to think otherwise. As far as he knew, I was only here to pick up TK. I’d thought the kiss would show him what I wanted, but of course it hadn’t. Because last time, I’d told him how I felt about him and then left.

“You have every right to be upset with me for what I’ve done,” I said. He looked so wary. “I didn’t think there was any other way than to leave with Trey. The anniversary of the crash was less than two weeks ago, and there was a memorial service. I lost my whole family; I needed to go. But you’re right—I should have called to explain. I wish I had.” I took a step toward him and he took one back.

“I called you. All you had to do was answer.”

“Like I said, if I had I would have come right home. Going back to Arden Hills wasn’t just about settling the estate. Trey’s showing up made all the wounds fresh again. He’s always been good at capitalizing on my weaknesses, particularly my guilt over what happened.” I summoned the courage to confess the most difficult part. “I felt responsible for all of it. I had such cold feet about the wedding. I thought it was normal to have reservations, but then . . .” My voice cracked, and I had to take a deep breath before I could go on. “All those deaths—they sat on my shoulders. I had to make peace with that, Hayden. Otherwise I would have come back here with the same ghosts haunting me. And then where would we be?”

“I wish I had known some of this before you left me.”

There it was again—the phrase that made my heart ache, as though my departure had been about his abandonment. For him, that was exactly what had happened. “And I wish I’d been strong enough to tell you. But I wasn’t—and I’m so sorry for that.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He exhaled heavily. “Look, this is a lot to process and I’m . . . a little overwhelmed and tired. You must be wiped from the drive and that shit with Sienna, and this.” He motioned between us. “So maybe it’s best if we get some sleep. I don’t want to say anything else I might regret.”

“Okay.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t have the right to be disappointed. “If I can borrow the key to my place . . .”

“What? Why?”

“Because you want to go to bed.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to leave.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, you’re limping and you’re not getting back in that elevator, so you might as well stay here.”

My heart leapt. “I’ll sleep out here on the couch.” It was comfortable enough. Although not nearly as comfortable as Hayden’s bed and Hayden’s warm body.

He frowned. Ran a hand through his hair. “Uh—that’s not necessary. I’ve got a spare room.”

My spark of hope was doused with disappointment. The last time I was here, he’d said that no one had ever seen his bedroom, let alone slept in it. He wouldn’t ask for intimacy with me now. Too much had changed. I followed him down the hall and he stopped at a door I hadn’t noticed during my previous visit.

He flipped on the lights. A desk was in one corner with a filing cabinet beside it, and a double bed was against the far wall. Just like every other room in his house, it was immaculate. The covers were pulled up tight. If I checked, I was sure the sheets would be tucked in hospital style. Beside the bed was a nightstand with a small lamp.

The clock read 4:14 A.M. I’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours. My body and my mind were spent; I was functioning on pure adrenaline. When it ran out, I would crash hard.

“I’ll get you a toothbrush and something to sleep in.” Hayden went down the hall and disappeared into his bedroom.

I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my hand over the red comforter. The sheets were dark gray, the walls were paper white.

He came back with an armload of clothes and a toothbrush still in its package. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I brought options.” He set the clothes on the edge of the bed. “There’s a bathroom down the hall to the left. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

“I’m just glad you’re home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned over, kissed the top of my head, and ran his fingers through my ponytail.

After he left, I sorted through the clothes. The drawstring pants might have fit him but would be enormous on me. There were two shirts, one short sleeved and one long, as well as a pair of boxer briefs. I shed my clothes, glad to be out of them. Part of me wanted to jump in the shower, but it was approaching dawn. It would have to wait until later, after sleep.

The long-sleeved shirt fell below my butt. The boxer briefs, while too large at the waist, were manageable as long as I rolled them over a couple of times to keep them up.

My hip still ached, partially from being manhandled by Sienna, but also because of the long drive. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as when Hayden first picked me up from The Dollhouse, but it was still uncomfortable enough to make me limp. I rooted around in the pocket of my discarded jeans and found the travel Tylenol I carried at all times.

My teeth felt fuzzy, as if they were wearing sweaters, so I headed to the bathroom. I found the toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, brushed my teeth, and rinsed with mouthwash even though I wasn’t going to need fresh breath tonight.

Hand towels and washcloths were in the top drawer of the vanity. I ran a washcloth under hot water and washed my face, careful to avoid the scratches Hayden had cleaned. Since a shower wasn’t an option, I leaned against the edge of the sink and dragged the washcloth down my legs, the damp warmth pleasant.

There was a knock on the door and I called for Hayden to open it. He stood at the threshold with a pile of towels in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He wore pajama pants and nothing else. Usually he slept naked, so the pants were for my benefit and his discretion.

His eyes moved from my face down my body and back up. Then down. And back up.

“I thought you might want these in case you’re up before me. Unless you decide you’d rather shower at your own place, but I’ll leave them here so you have the choice.” He passed the towels over. “And I figured you might want a glass of water in case you got thirsty.” He passed that over, too.

“Thanks.” Hayden was obviously flustered. Seeing him like that made me want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

He rubbed the back of his neck, blinked a few times. “You picked the shorts.”

“The pants were too long. These are a little big, too. I’ll probably ditch them when I go to bed,” I said, not considering the implications.

His body was beautiful. The black lines of the phoenix came to an abrupt end just beyond the center of his broad chest. Then after a blank expanse of skin, a burst of color began at his shoulder and traveled down his right arm. The two halves of a whole. Although Hayden wasn’t so simple as to have a light and a dark side. Both sides espoused the dichotomy that he embodied; the bleeding heart on his forearm was wrapped in flowering vines, cracked on one side, blooming on the other. The koi traveling along his arm fought its way upstream. The lilies floating on the water changed from white and pink to dark purple, half-wilted by the time they reached his shoulder. Hayden’s dark and light sides merged, flowing into each other.

Tonight was the first time I truly saw how divided he was, and how much he battled to embrace the light. I had a feeling the tattoos on his back were a reflection of how dark he could get. One in particular was rather eerie, but whenever I’d asked to see it up close, he’d distracted me with other activities.

He’d lost weight while I was gone. Probably a good ten pounds, or more. The six-pack he sported was more pronounced, and a hint of bone was at his hips instead of layers of defined muscle covered with ink. His waist was narrower; his pants hung low to the point of obscenity. I gawked shamelessly.

He lowered a hand from the doorjamb to cover the problem that was rising below the waist. “I, ah—I’m gonna go now. To bed.”

“If that’s what you think is best.”

I yearned to reach out and trace the lines of the phoenix. Particularly where it circled the glint of metallic black piercing his nipple. And lower, where it disappeared under the waistband of his pants. He’d already shut me down once, though; I wasn’t about to try again. His hesitation was understandable.

“Yeah.” Hayden took a step back. “Bed is good.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” I rolled up the waistband of my shorts once more for good measure.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, eyes on my legs. “Unless you need me.” He gave his head a shake. “Something. Unless you need something. I’m just a few steps away.”

He turned and headed down the hall. I got a glimpse of the tattoo on his right shoulder, the one I hadn’t seen up close before. It looked like a child swaddled in a blanket, but its eyes were terrifying—ancient, evil, full of despair.

He looked over his shoulder when he reached his bedroom door. “Night, Tenley.”

“Night.” I smiled weakly. I wanted an invitation into his bed, even if it was just for sleeping. I craved the feel of his body close to mine. It was hard to be in his space and not next to him, yet it was just, considering what I’d put him through.

He went into his room, leaving the door ajar. TK came scampering down the hall and paused at my feet, rubbed herself against my leg, then trotted to Hayden’s bedroom. All of the things that had been mine weren’t anymore.

I heard him talking to her and considered the possibility that I might not have the right to take TK back. I’d been so neglectful of both of them. A few seconds later the light went out, and I was alone.

I left the towels on the vanity and took the glass of water with me to the spare room. Turning the covers down, I slipped between the cold sheets. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep with Hayden so close and unreachable, but fatigue settled in, dragging me under.

A shout startled me awake. Disorientation incited panic, until I remembered I was in Hayden’s condo, sleeping in his spare bedroom. It was 7:00 A.M., which would have been a reasonable time to get up if I hadn’t gone to bed just two hours earlier. Another sound came from down the hall, the pitch low and masculine.

I slipped out of bed, testing my right leg before I put too much weight on it. It was still sore, but the Tylenol made it more manageable. I stole down the hall, the dim light from the bathroom the only illumination.

I silently pushed open the door. Hayden’s sheets were twisted around him, pillows scattered on the floor. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat despite the chilled air. TK was sitting on the floor, her fur standing on end. Hayden flailed and moaned plaintively. Words tumbled out of his mouth as he thrashed in the sheets, the grip of the nightmare too tight to escape from.

I hurried to the bed and climbed up beside him. I called his name quietly at first, then louder, until I had to yell. But he remained stuck inside his head. Out of options, I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a tentative shake, and another, and another.

He sat up with a start. His eyes darted aimlessly, scanning the room but not truly tracking. His gaze came to rest on me; wild and panicked. “Tenley?”

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It was just a dream.” I pushed his hair off his forehead.

Hayden caught my hands in his and brought them to his mouth, lips moving over my knuckles. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat, a hybrid of despair and relief. Then he started checking me over, patting me down. His hand smoothed over my chest and he looked at his palms, then he repeated the action, rambling about blood.

He found the hem of my shirt and his hand went underneath. His palm slid over my stomach and between my breasts, searching for something. Unsatisfied with what he found, he tugged my shirt over my head. His palm flattened against the center of my chest.

“It’s not there.” He looked over my shoulder, smoothing his hand down my back.

“What’s not there?”

“The bullet. There’s no bullet.”

“I’m fine, Hayden.” I put my hand over his and moved it higher. “See? I’m fine, there’s nothing there. It was a dream.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s no blood.” His breath left him in harsh pants.

Hayden enveloped me in a grip that made it hard to breathe. I rubbed slow circles on his back to comfort him, resting my chin on his shoulder. Lowering my face, I kissed his overheated skin. It was damp and salty with sweat.

“Please don’t leave me. Not again. Please. It hurts too much to be without you. I don’t know how. I don’t—” He murmured pleas until he was too frantic to speak. His vulnerability was a shock.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, seeking to reassure him.

Cassie had been right; he was more fragile than I would ever have thought.

When his breathing finally slowed and his grip loosened, I urged him back under the covers. He went willingly. I drew them up over both of us and he curled himself around me. He pushed his forehead against my neck and got as close as he could, almost blanketing my body with his. His hand kept up a slow stroking. He returned to the center of my chest each time, making sure I was whole.

“It’s always the same dream. I can’t get to you in time and then you’re gone, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the emptiness.”

Like mine, his nightmare seemed like facets of his past twined with the present. His parents had been murdered. If his subconscious had replaced them with me, my abandoning him was the catalyst for these dreams.

“I’m right here with you, Hayden. Everything’s okay now.” I held him close.

Eventually his hand came to rest on my sternum, his nose pressed right into my throat. His breathing evened out and the tension left his body, but he kept his arm locked around me, as if I’d disappear if he let go.