by Morgan Blaze
The brief moments of incredible weren’t worth the pain the rest of the time.
She knew it was petty, trying to hurt him back like this. But the more she thought about last night, the harder it was to shrug away. He’d gone too far.
Then again, she’d been the one to come on to him. And he’d warned her off—twice.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, confused and conflicted, when she heard raised voices outside. Mark, fighting with his brothers. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she figured it had to be about her. And she felt terrible.
If this was what revenge tasted like, she wasn’t hungry.
A flat thud sounded just outside the trailer, like a fist hitting something. The voices stopped. A moment later, someone muttered a few words.
Then the trailer door flew open, and Mark strode in.
She didn’t dare move. He was pale and rigid, his nose bloodied. His eyes seemed to look right through her. He closed the door and stood there a moment, then turned and headed for the sink.
“Mark?” she said softly. “What happened?”
He gripped the edge of the sink. “Jonah happened,” he said without looking at her.
“Oh my God, he hit you?”
“I let him.”
His low, broken voice wrenched her heart. “Why?”
“Because I deserved it.” He grabbed a washcloth, wet it down and dabbed carefully at his upper lip. “Now Gage wants a turn. But I…” He let out a shuddering breath and faced her. “Why the hell did you do that?”
She swallowed. “You know why.”
“Last night.” He closed his eyes and winced. “Well, I guess I deserved that, too.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” The fury she was used to seeing from him surfaced for an instant, but it drained quickly. “Just stay away from me.”
Before she could think of anything else to say, he was gone.
Chapter 9
Mark managed to get through the rest of the day at work, and then a strained night at home. Even Luka seemed pissed at him—which was bullshit, since she wasn’t directly involved, but he wasn’t going to mention it.
He had no idea how he’d survive the next few months. Or the rest of his life, for that matter.
Yes, it was all his fault. He’d been cruel to Aubrey, and he’d done it deliberately. His intentions didn’t matter. He never believed the Monroes would actually drop the grudge. Hell, he still didn’t. But with her and Mrs. V. both thinking it was possible, there was zero chance she’d quit. She might even decide to stay in Covendale after the job—because why would she bother keeping a promise to him?
So now he’d get to spend forever being constantly reminded that she’d never be his.
The next morning he headed into work late for him, but earlier than the others. He parked at the curb and sat in the car, willing himself to get out. There was still the job. Damned if he felt like doing it, but it was the only thing he had left.
He’d made it as far as opening the door when another car pulled up behind his. Without looking, he knew it was Aubrey.
He got out, slammed the car door, and headed for the trailer. He wouldn’t bother reminding her that work started at nine. In fact, he decided not to say a word to her. The silent treatment wouldn’t fix anything, but there was no fix. At least this way he couldn’t make things any worse.
Her car door opened just as he rounded the trailer. Focused as he was on avoiding her, he almost didn’t notice that he had bigger problems—until he happened to glance at the tool shed while he was unlocking the door.
And felt like he’d been gutted with a dull blade.
Yesterday, there’d been a locked shed with stacks of lumber and plywood beside it. Today there was a splintered pile of debris. Someone had taken a chainsaw to the materials, hacking and slashing randomly until there was nothing left. The padlock was hacked off the door, the hasp twisted and broken. He couldn’t see inside the shed, but he’d bet all the tools were gone.
There was a sharp intake of breath behind him, and he whirled to find Aubrey staring at the wreckage. “My God,” she whispered. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know.” Speaking was difficult. He had to tear every word from his gut, like yanking a bad tooth. “But I suspect.”
“Suspect what?”
“Well, let’s see. Someone just informed a man who’d be happy to piss on my grave that his daughter is hanging around with an animal.” He didn’t have the strength to sneer, so he settled on staring at the ground. “Now my job site is vandalized. What a coincidence.”
“You think my father did this?”
“Or your brother. Not that it matters, because I’m fucked either way.” He pulled his phone out and dialed Jonah. When his brother answered, he said, “We have problems. Get here now.” He didn’t wait for an answer before cutting the call.
Aubrey wandered a few steps toward the shed, wearing a dazed expression. “No,” she said. “They wouldn’t…”
“Christ, you really are insane!” His throat burned with the effort to swallow his rage. He didn’t have time to give in to it—this was going to seriously set them back, and he had to act fast to rectify the situation. “Of course they would. What the hell did you think was going to happen when you told them you’re working with the big, bad wolf? They’d just stand back and let you get eaten?”
“They said they’d stop.” Her voice was small and lost. “They both agreed.”
“And you believed them.” Mark’s jaw clenched involuntarily. “My family might be scum, but at least we don’t lie to each other.”
She shivered. “I’ll talk to them. I can…”
“Just stop. There’s no fixing this, and you know it.” He glanced at the ruins and tried to ignore the twist in his stomach. “I have to call the sheriff, for all the good that’ll do me. Then I’ve got work to do.”
“How can I help?”
He stared at her. “You can’t.”
Her stricken features were more than he could take. Since he knew he was no comfort, all he could do was walk away.
* * * *
Aubrey sat in one of the folding chairs outside the trailer, watching the Dawsons have an animated conversation by the cars.
She’d already called her father and her brother. Both of them denied having anything to do with the vandalism—but Mark was right about one thing. The Monroes were seasoned liars. As much as she wanted to rule out the possibility that her family had been responsible for this, she couldn’t.
That just made everything worse.
They were heading toward her now, and she wished she could make herself invisible. But none of them paid attention to her. Mark was doing most of the talking, and the others were completely focused on him.
“All right, so we know where we stand.” Mark took a wallet from his pocket, extracted a credit card and handed it to Gage. “Head out to the home construction place in Greenway and get the tools we need. Ask them for bulk pricing on plywood while you’re there, in case our suppliers can’t deliver. Finishing the shell is the top priority right now.” He dug in his pocket again. “Here, take my car,” he said, tossing a set of keys to him.
Gage caught them neatly. “I’m on it,” he said, turning to jog back toward the curb.
“Jonah, swing back home and bring everything we’ve got stashed. And stay on the reservation,” he said firmly. “Understand?”
“Yeah. I got it.” The big man’s gaze met Aubrey’s for an instant, his expression unreadable. Then he headed in the direction Gage had gone.
“All right.” Mark sighed and rubbed his forehead briefly. “Reese, you and me are on cleanup detail, but we can’t touch anything over there until the sheriff’s been by. So see what you can do with what’s left. There should be a few sheets of plywood around back. Meanwhile, I’ve got to make some calls.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Reese nodded and headed for the house.
/> With everyone else dispersed, Aubrey expected Mark to ignore her and go in the trailer. But he approached her with halting steps, as if he was trying to make up his mind about something. Probably which tone of shout he should use to tell her off.
He stopped a few feet away. “You can head home for the day, if you want,” he said. “We’re not going to get very far until we have fresh materials. There’s no need to stick around for the waiting game, so just come back tomorrow.”
His defeated tone went straight to her heart. “I want to help,” she said. “There has to be something I can do.”
“Yeah, right.” He laughed bitterly. “Got a time machine? Maybe you could go back and stop my father from being a drunken bastard.”
She stood slowly and walked toward him, fighting back tears. “I wish—”
“Please don’t. I shouldn’t have said that.” His mouth formed a firm line, and he looked toward the sound of an approaching engine. “Sheriff’s here,” he said. “Excuse me.”
Aubrey watched for a moment and caught Mark’s face in profile as he headed for the squad car—a grim and weary expression, like he was expecting something painful and determined to get it over with. Then she realized he probably was. Jason said he’d spent time in jail when she was gone. And with the mindset of this town, the reasons were likely less what he did, and more who he was.
Well, she wasn’t about to let the sheriff blame him for something that was probably her family’s fault.
She walked over, trying to bury the feeling that this was a mistake. Mark would be pissed at her for interfering. But he was already furious anyway, and she couldn’t stand the thought of him running into more trouble just because of his last name.
“You’re sure it was vandalism.” Sheriff Tanner, a tall man with permanent frown lines around his mouth and eyes, had a small notebook out, but he wasn’t writing anything. “Not the wind, or lightning maybe.”
“Yes, I’m sure. And theft—our tools are gone.”
“Yeah?” The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of insurance you got on those tools?”
Aubrey’s stomach turned. The sheriff thought he was lying…and Mark knew it. The set of his jaw said he was going to have problems responding.
She decided to do it for him.
“Sheriff Tanner.” She stepped up beside Mark, and the sheriff looked momentarily startled. “Mark and I got here at the same time this morning,” she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. “So you’ll probably want statements from both of us.”
“Miss Monroe?” The sheriff’s gaze darted to Mark for an instant before he continued. “Maybe you can start with telling me what you’re doing here.”
“I work here.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes. I just started this week.”
“Huh.” Now he wrote something in his notebook. “Well, Miss Monroe, that’s real interesting. But right now I’m questioning Dawson here, so I’ll let you know if I need any…statements from you.”
The way he said Dawson, almost like a curse, sparked fresh anger that made her speak without thinking. “Listen, Sheriff. I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but shouldn’t you actually look at the evidence before you decide there wasn’t a crime?” she said. “And oh, maybe interview some witnesses with pretty good ideas about who committed it? I’ll give you a hint—it wasn’t Mark. Or Mother Nature, unless it’s been raining chainsaws lately.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught Mark smirking before he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.
Sheriff Tanner coughed, and the back of his neck flushed red. After a long pause, he said, “Mr. Dawson. If you wouldn’t mind showing me to the scene, we’ll continue this interview there.”
“Sure.” Mark glanced at Aubrey with raised eyebrows, then turned and headed toward the shed with the sheriff in tow.
After a brief internal debate, Aubrey followed. Mark could yell at her all he wanted later—when she was sure Sheriff Tanner would treat him decently. Until then, like it or not, he was stuck with her.
* * * *
Mark tossed the phone on the desk and dropped his head in his hands. He’d been making calls for almost an hour, trying to find a supplier willing to rush a delivery. So far, two wouldn’t rush for anything, and three would drop tomorrow—if he paid four times the usual shipping and delivery fees. So he could overpay for a smaller supply from a local store to tide them over through the regular delivery time, or overpay for the whole damned thing. Great choices.
Trying to clean up this mess wasn’t the only thing that had his mind whirling. Aubrey Monroe had surprised the hell out of him, and he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
First she’d ripped the sheriff a new asshole and made him treat Mark like a regular person instead of Public Enemy Number Two—after Jonah, of course. She’d even told Tanner to go question her family when he left. Then, when him and Reese hauled the Dumpster over and started tossing the trashed materials, she’d come over wearing gloves and a bandanna and pitched right in. She was still at it when he came in to make calls.
Definitely not the behavior of a rich girl, or a consultant.
It didn’t change the fact that the rest of her family was never going to lay off. But it went a long way toward calming his anger. Unfortunately, it also made him feel everything else that much stronger—which was a downright painful experience.
The trailer door opened. He looked up expecting to see Gage back from the city, but the figure walking in was a lot prettier than his brother. And damn it, he really had to stop noticing that.
“Well, that’s done.” She headed for the sink, removing the work accessories on the way, and started splashing water on her face. “Oh, and Jonah’s back. He said to tell you he found an extra nail gun in the garage.”
“He did?”
She sent him a strange look. “You sound so shocked,” she said. “Did he get into your secret nail gun stash or something?”
“No, I…” He was shocked—but about Jonah actually speaking to her. Why would he do that, after everything he’d said since Aubrey showed up? Jonah hated the Monroes more than he did. “That’s good,” he said. “I mean, finding the nail gun.”
“Hey, I’m just the messenger.” Smiling a little, she dried off and turned to lean against the sink. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and his gaze was drawn to the graceful curve of her throat. The memory of his lips there seared him. “So are you having any luck?” she said.
“Will you stop trying to make small talk?”
Damn it, he didn’t mean to say that. Why couldn’t he stop snapping at her?
The hurt in her eyes clashed with her cold expression as she stared at him, and finally said, “Well, welcome back.”
“What?”
“I was expecting angry Mark sooner.” She straightened and rested a hand on her hip. “Go on, then. Yell at me about getting into your business, or helping out, or talking to your brothers, or whatever.”
He didn’t respond.
“Fine. Save your shouting for later, then.” She headed for the door.
“Wait…I’m sorry.”
She stopped with a hand on the knob. “Did you just apologize? To me?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to yell. I…appreciate what you’ve done today.”
“You’re welcome.” She stepped back and looked at him. “Mark, I want to start over.”
“With what?”
“Us. Working together.” Her lips compressed briefly. “I am so sorry about what happened out there. I can’t say for sure it wasn’t my father or brother, but they know I suspect them. That should be enough to keep it from happening again, if it was one of them.” She approached the desk and stopped beside him. “I’d like to work with you, officially. Can we do that?”
His gut instinct was to say no. But if he was going to have a chance in hell of making it through the next few months, the fights had to stop—at leas
t on the job site. If nothing else, the tension would get to everyone and slow them down. Finishing the job trumped everything here. Including his emotions.
“All right,” he said at last. “Consider it official. You’re hired.”
Her smile was breathtaking. “Thank you.”
“I’m still not sure there’s anything you can do. I mean, for today,” he said quickly. “I’ll probably be tied up with the suppliers all day, and they can’t do much of anything until we get more materials. So…”
“Yeah, about that,” she said. “I was wondering if we could get together.”
“I don’t think—”
“Strictly professional, of course. I want to talk about work. But it’s hard to do that when you’re…well, working.” She flashed a small smile. “And considering the whole situation, I think the best idea would be for you to come to my place.”
“No.”
“Why not?” she said. “Your place would be…er, distracting. And I don’t think you want to go somewhere public. At least, not in this town.”
Damn. She was right about that—most of it, anyway. But he’d already proven to himself that being alone with her was dangerous. She made him lose control, and the stakes were a lot higher than his job. “We could talk here,” he said.
“In the trailer?” She shook her head. “When you’re here, you’re busy. You won’t be able to focus. Please…I really want to discuss this project. It’s the only way to make sure things go smoothly.”
Mark bowed his head. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go to your place.”
“Great! You can stop by tonight, if you don’t have plans.” She grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbled something, and pushed it over to him. “That’s my address and cell number. I’ll be home all night, so anytime is fine.”
“Okay.” He shoved the paper in his pocket without looking at it. “Well, I’d better get back to this,” he said. “We need to be ready to go tomorrow.”
“I understand. I’ll see if Reese needs any more help out there.” She walked to the door and looked back at him. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah. Tonight.”
When she left, his fists clenched hard enough to score his palms. He was really going to regret this—and he hated himself for agreeing. It was hard enough being around her at work, where nothing could happen.
