But PK was ever at the ready, stepping carefully around the dips and hills of the covers as she meandered up Vonnie’s body, stuck in the confines of sleep as his girl battled demons Rio couldn’t yet find. Tucking the top of her furry head underneath his spitfire’s chin, she pressed in, while whining loudly.
But it wasn’t a whine of distress as much as one to get her attention.
And as PK’s sounds seemed to hit her consciousness, Rio twisted to turn on the light behind him, turning her small form onto her back and watching as his dog climbed up on her chest. The tiny beast placed her weight on one of her front paws, then the other as she nudged her head against the spitfire’s chin—as if willing the woman to wake up.
“Please don’t go…” she muttered in a child-like voice even as her hand came up to restrain PK’s movements, her eyelids fluttering.
Christ! What could he do? There had to be something he could add to the equation instead remaining as an innocent bystander in the midst of whatever held her in its grips.
“Vons—” he started.
And then she began to weep, to sob with heart-wrenching intensity, making his own heart pound as he felt a knife-like slice of apprehension shoot through him.
“C’mon, babe,” he urged, both unwilling and unable to touch her in order to wake her up from the shit that held her in its grip. “Come back to me, spitfire.”
Finally, fucking finally…her eyelids lifted as her tears poured in an unending stream.
“There you are!” Thank god he’d been able to wake her, although whatever she’d dreamt of obviously followed her back into reality, as evidenced by the wetness that still flowed from her eyes to her temples.
“Wha’…” her beautiful mouth started as her eyebrows knit together over her nose.
“You were having a nightmare,” he mumbled back, as soon as the last of her voice left the air. Christ! The expression in her eyes spoke of the horrors which had grabbed her in her sleep. The kind Rio was willing to find and destroy on her behalf. Because he knew them by name…had met them night after night. And he’d be damned if his spitfire was gonna go through her own version of that hell.
Not if he had a damned thing to say about it. He slid closer to her, tenderly brushing her bangs out of her eyes, wiping the tears from her temples.
“Rio?”
Aw fuck. The sound of his name on her lips made the sleeping beast between his legs take notice, going into a half-salute as it roused.
“Yeah, princess,” he offered into the silence of her dimly lit bedroom, his thick hands bumbling as he attempted to provide comfort—not his strong suit by a long shot. “Think you were dreaming and it wasn’t one of the good kind.”
“A nightmare?” Shit, could his tough little spitfire, the one with the indomitable spirit sound anymore vulnerable? And what did the plea in her eyes mean as they held his?
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I think you were caught up in something inside of your head. But it wasn’t real, Vons. Not even close to real, okay? Just a dream.”
Her sobs turned to hiccups and hiccups to hitches as she gained control over her emotions. But Rio stayed right where he was, not even to move to find a tissue or some toilet paper—choosing instead to wipe her eyes and nose with the edge of the sheet.
“I’m s-sorry,” she stammered a few moments later. “I g-get these s-sometimes.”
Her amazing agate eyes, shiny and wet, came back to his. “Was it bad?” What did she mean? Because her crying was a pretty clear indication whatever was in her dream wasn’t good, that was for frickin’ sure.
“Did I do or say something…wrong or weird?”
He shook his head as he searched her face. “No princess. Just whispered ‘don’t leave me’ a couple of times. Do you know what that was about?”
“Nuh-uh,” she whispered, twisting the sheet in her small hands.
“How about we talk it through? The therapist I had at the VA Hospital said talking about it helps.”
“You had a shrink?” She sniffed and ran a finger under an eye to catch one of the last of her tears.
Rio nodded, his focus totally on her and her movements. “Yeah. For the PSTD stuff that comes up when I sleep. You saw a bit of it the other day, but it used to be a helluva lot worse.”
She swallowed and turned her eyes away, clutching the covers as she brought them up to her neck. “I don’t think talking about it will help.”
“Sure it will. You can’t fight what you don’t know, right?” He propped his head in his hand and leaned his elbow into his pillow. “And I know you’re a fighter.”
She didn’t say anything, allowing her silence to speak for her.
“I’m a great listener, Vonnie.”
He caught the flicker of her eyes a micro-second before she swung her legs off the edge of the bed, flinging the covers his way. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Rio. So just fucking drop it, okay?”
If he hadn’t heard the pique in her voice, he could more than read it in the way she stormed out of the bedroom. The slam of the bathroom door only gave him further proof that he’d pressed a little too hard in trying to get her to talk.
Good job, dickhead, his mind groused and Rio flopped down onto his back to try and get away from it.
The sound of the shower had him glancing at the bedside clock. Seeing how it was only a little after six, he knew he’d have plenty of time take some measurements so he could fix the front door.
He also considered making a run to the motel to grab some clothes and his dopp-kit.
But how was he supposed to do all that with the door broken as it was? Sure, he’d jerry-rigged the heavy piece of wood into place and secured it with that table, but damn. He couldn’t leave her like that.
Couldn’t leave her period.
No, either she came with him as he ran his errands or he’d try to see if Max or Ryker could bring what he needed in order to make the repairs.
Running a hand over his face, Rio wondered if she’d give him a ration of shit about him dragging her all over town. There were times when she could be her kind of sweet and then there were the instances where she didn’t mind handing him his ass on a silver platter.
He just hoped her current mood (set well and truly at the end of the dial marked ‘pissy’) wouldn’t be the one she’d stick with for the rest of the day.
*.*.*.*.*
The shower helped remove some of the last of the sorrow my nightmare always brought but did nothing to curb my aggravation with the man I’d let share my bed.
Where did he get off anyway?
I hadn’t pestered him to confess all his secrets when he’d woken up from his own sleep-induced hell, so why did he think I was gonna tell him mine?
Although, I have to admit I wasn’t surprised I dreamed that dream again, not with all the stress from the day before. In fact, I should’ve expected it since any kind of strain or tension usually heralded an episode.
I just hadn’t been paying attention, my brain concentrating more on our sexy bed-type stuff than the screwed up events of the day. Yet even if I had been aware and even anticipated having the dream again, I didn’t have any means to stop it.
Any more than I could stop the damn soldier-man from sticking around.
What was that about anyway?
Did he think he was gonna protect me from the big, bad robbers with his tiny-ass gun? One he pulled from his damn boot, for god’s sake?
I mean, really!
Or had he used that as a ruse, just a ploy so I’d let him stay…allow him to take me on my couch (the couch!) and then in my bed? An ‘in’; finagling, using his moves on me when I was my most vulnerable. As ploys went, it was a good one—slicker than shit.
I’d give him that.
Stepping back into the stream of hot water, I lifted my face to rinse while rethinking.
It didn’t feel like a move though—but more like a natural progression. First we were talking, and then he slid me to his lap.
So it’d been me who’d actually gotten the ball rolling.
Not him.
And he didn’t have to use even an ounce of coercion.
Which made me, what?
A slut?
Or was I just another red blooded woman who found herself in the aftermath of a crime with a gorgeous, protective ex-military man that hoped by letting nature take its course, she could get back to good?
So what are you really upset about—him or your reaction to him?
Introspection wasn’t my favorite activity, but seemed to be how my brain wanted to work that morning. Although it kept my focus on me and off of him which was probably a good thing. Since I was still riding the keen edge of aggravation from our last heart-to-heart.
Meeting in the kitchen a half hour or so later, I was still working my snit. Albeit in silence. I idly watched as he poured coffee into one of the set of mugs I’d set out but stopped him before he filled the other one.
“You don’t want any? I thought you lived on this stuff.”
Turning to the refrigerator, I pulled out my specialty creamer. “I do. But it has to be prepared a certain way.”
“What way?”
“The way I like it,” I mumbled, unwilling to look at him. Pouring a healthy measure of cream into the mug, I reached for the sugar bowl, adding a couple of spoonfuls to the thick liquid. Stepping around him (to prevent any part of our bodies from touching), I grabbed the coffee pot. Pouring the dark brew into the pre-prepared mixture, I heard him snort before giving his summation. “Candy coffee, huh?”
Figuring his words were meant to get under my skin, I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response and just sipped my tasty concoction. But he didn’t let me get away with me ignoring him for long.
Coming up behind where I stood at the counter, Rio rested his hands on the sides of my waist. “With all we’ve got to accomplish today, think it’d be smart if we at least acted like we were on the same team.”
Bringing the mug up to my mouth again I paused to mumble, “And that means what exactly?”
He sighed as his chin rested on the top of my head. “Need you to lose the attitude, spitfire.”
My spine straightened as indignation flared.
“And to tell me if you have a back entrance to this place. Otherwise we’re gonna have to work out another way of securing the door while we’re gone.”
We?
“I can stay here while you got get what’s needed to fix it. When you come back, I’ll go do my shopping and stuff.” To my mind, my suggestion more than worked and gave me the added bonus of not having to spend any more time than necessary in his company.
“I’m not leaving you here by yourself, princess. So do you have a way to the parking lot through your backyard or not?”
God, did he think I was some kind of shrinking violet or something? A little weakling who couldn’t keep herself safe?
“I may not have any military experience but I’m not defenseless, soldier-boy. I know how to protect myself.”
“I’m…ah, sure you can.” Man, the note of laughter in his voice made me want to scream. “But I’m still not leaving you here by yourself. We’ll go together, hit all the stores and get everything we need in one fell swoop.”
His fingers gave a quick squeeze and he pulled away. “Then if you wanna give me attitude or an argument later, I’ll listen. But right now? I need you to finish your coffee, and then get your shoes and jacket.”
“What about your dog? We can’t just leave her in the car.”
“She stays here.”
I whipped around to see if he was serious. His expression told me he absolutely was. “You mean to tell me, you think your damned dog can protect herself against an intruder?”
His mouth quivered at the corners and I could swear he was trying to hold back a smile. “No. But I think she damn-well knows when to attack and when to hide. Something I’m not so sure you’d do in the same situation.”
He was turning away so I think he missed my response.
The one given with only a finger of the middle kind.
Chapter Fifteen
While we went hither and yon, hitting all the different places that sold what we needed, I found myself slipping further and further into what I could only call a ‘brain fog’. It wasn’t like my mind was blank or not engaged, but rather, it was thinking at a pace too fast for me to follow. But even without my involvement, I’d call our foray in our first shopping expedition a success.
Only because I thought we’d gotten everything each of us needed.
Me: a new laptop and a high-end, photo-quality printer.
Him: all sorts of manly junk to fix the door, some ‘all-natural’ dog food and treats from the pet shop, more clothes from his motel and, lastly, groceries.
And after bringing the first of the purchases in through the slider, Rio put me on unpacking duty, saying he’d schlep in the rest—which suited me just fine. But as I got started on the bags and bags of groceries, tucking his purchases into my cupboards and fridge, a thought hit me that was louder than all the rest.
Why’d he buy so much food?
Staring at the whole chicken in my hands, I glanced to him, idling notating the well used and dented toolbox at his feet as he started to remove the splintered wood of the door jamb. And as that one question started becoming more strident, I realized I needed it answered.
“Rio?”
“Right here, princess.” He tucked the hammer in one of his belt loops, making his jeans sag a bit and my eyes caught on the sliver of skin revealed.
I swallowed and looked back down at the chicken. “Why’d you buy so much food?”
Reaching for a measuring tape, he flicked me a glance before turning back to the opening. “Gotta eat, right? And I can’t live on fast food or dining out all the damn time.”
“Why not?” But that wasn’t the real question I was looking to have answered. Not in the least.
A frown appeared but quickly disappeared. “Number one because it isn’t healthy. I eat like that and I might as well give up my work outs. Eating right and hitting the gym is what keeps me in shape.”
There was no denying the man had a perfect body. One I’d both seen and had the distinct pleasure of touching. But that still wasn’t what I wanted to know.
“You bought a lot though,” I started, begging my slow-moving brain for better words, the right words to ask what was really on my mind. “Enough for a lotta meals.”
He turned to face me fully and propped his fists on his hips after pulling up the droopy side of his jeans. “Since you won’t leave to keep yourself safe, I’m staying. And I’m thinking it’s gonna be for more than a couple of days. Thus the groceries.”
I shook my head, not to deny what he was saying (although I kind of wanted to, especially about his announcement he was staying an undisclosed length of time), but to shake loose my next point. “You don’t expect me to cook though, right?”
He turned back to his project with a sigh. “No worries, Vons. I’ll handle all the stove and oven action if you’ll take on the laundry. Does that work for you?”
I distractedly answered in the positive before storing the rest of the food, but there was something about his explanation that bothered me and I tried to relax enough so I could figure it out. Yet it still didn’t come to me even as I separated the mix of his and my own dirty clothes into piles before loading the washer with the first of the loads.
And I still hadn’t figured it out when I went back to my office to set up my new laptop and printer.
But before I’d even emptied the boxes, Pookie decided she needed some attention and let me know it by jumping on my leg, her little face pointed up to mine.
Sitting in my office chair, I reached for the tiny dog, giving her scratches before I even had her in my lap. “How you doing, sweet thing? You feeling neglected? I bet you a
re.” First we’d paid her only the minimal attention when we’d first woke up, then left her all by herself for more than a couple of hours. And even though Rio did his standard greeting with her when we’d returned home, it obviously wasn’t enough. Not with all the changes that’d gone on over the last few days.
Just like I wasn’t used to all the crap that’d shifted in my life in that same timeframe.
“Are you feeling as outta control as me?” My voice was a soft whisper, but I knew she heard me by the way her ears remained pointed, twisting this way and that even as she accepted my rubs and scratches. “Feels pretty damn awful, doesn’t it?”
I swallowed and was surprised to find my throat felt thick.
Was I gonna cry?
I blinked and, for some silly reason, my eyes felt wet.
Aw shit! I was. My body and heart was demanding I break down and just boo-hoo my heart out.
That wasn’t me, not the person I’d grown up to be anyway. Let other girls use their tears as some form of stress relief, but that wasn’t my style. In fact outside of my nightmares, I never cried.
Taking a deep breath, I couldn’t believe the involuntary hitch in it nor the lone tear that rolled down my cheek.
“This is bullshit,” I ground out in a low voice, dashing at the unwanted wetness with the back of my hand. Pookie seemed to pick up on my mood, cuddling closer, her front paws pressing into my leg in that tap-dance motion she liked to use.
But even her version of canine comfort didn’t stem my emotions as my eyes began to leak in earnest. “Aw hell, Pooks. What am I gonna do?”
*.*.*.*.*
Rio applied the wood glue to the underside of the board he’d cut to size, allowing his thoughts to wander back into the realm of Vonnie and whatever stick she had up her butt. He could understand her being embarrassed about him seeing her upset from her dream. He’d felt that way on more than one occasion—but a person wasn’t responsible for what went on in their head while asleep, for fuck’s sake.
And maybe the spitfire’s way of dealing with what she considered shameful was to get pissed, but boy-howdy, to hang on to a mad-on for hours? That was a new level of stubborn he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen.
Vonnie: Book Two of Broken Girls Series Page 13
