Regan nodded. “She mentioned it. But you know Willow. She would hardly talk about the parole hearing, so…”
Kyle glanced at the monitor above the bed, watching the waveform of her heartbeat track across the screen. “I know I let her down. That I’ve hurt her when it was the last thing I wanted to do.”
Regan exhaled a troubled sigh. When he spoke, there was compassion in his voice—understanding Kyle wasn’t certain he deserved. “She knows you love her, Kyle.”
Does she really? He wasn’t so sure anymore. “It’s just so hard to let her go, you know? She’s been the center of my world since Mom and Dad died.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” No one did. “She chose you, man. Right or wrong, I gave her an ultimatum, and she picked you.”
Regan’s eyes snapped to his, anger sparking in them. “Why does she have to choose? This was never a competition. I’m not trying to take your place. Willow’s feelings for me do not lessen her loyalty to you. You’re her brother and she adores you. Why can’t you just be happy for us?”
That was a good question. Maybe because he’d given up everything for Willow, and he wasn’t ready to let her go. Possibly because the thought of her not needing him anymore gutted him as much as it scared him, because maybe Pen was right—he needed to be needed. It was how he’d coped with the loss of his parents, found purpose in his grief. What the hell was going to happen when no one needed him anymore and he was forced to face the loss he’d been burying for the last five years? He didn’t even know who he was anymore.
To the world, he was Kyle “The Killer” Scott, undefeated MMA fighter. But that was his public image. It wasn’t who he was. Behind closed doors, he was Kyle Scott, Willow’s brother. That was it. His identity was so fucking lost, he didn’t even recognize his own reflection in the mirror anymore.
He held Regan’s stubborn stare, not about to get into any of the Dr. Phil shit with him. Kyle could see the frustration building inside him. The guy looked like he’d love nothing more than to leap across the bed and beat some sense into Kyle.
“Listen, I know I don’t deserve her. I’ll be the first one to admit it. But I promise you, Kyle, you will never find another guy who will love her more than I do.”
They say the truth hurts, but no one ever said anything about it kicking your ass. And it was in that moment, sitting face to face with the man he’d loved like a brother, and his baby sister lying unconscious between them, that Kyle tapped out.
I gotta get out of here.
Mumbling some excuse, he stood and placed a kiss on Willow’s bruised forehead then walked out, heading straight for the nurse’s desk. The woman behind the counter glanced up, giving him a warm smile as he approached.
“Can I help you?”
“I’d like to leave my name and number. Can someone call me if anything changes with Willow Scott? I need to step out for a while.”
“Of course.” The nurse handed him a pen and paper and he scribbled his information down before giving it back to her. He turned and started limping down the hall when a woman with curly blonde hair caught his attention. She was sitting alone in a cluster of chairs. Her head was down so he couldn’t see her face, but she looked like Pen. He must have been mistaken. It didn’t make any sense that she would be here. The woman was hunched forward, her forearms braced on her knees, her attention fixed on her feet. He slowed as he approached, trying to catch a glimpse of her face, but she didn’t notice him standing there. “Pen?”
The woman startled at his voice, her head snapping up. It was her. This was the last person he’d expected to find waiting out in the hall. “What are you doing here?” He took a seat in the empty chair beside her.
Pen glanced over at him and rubbed her hands on the knees of her jeans a few times, as if drying sweaty palms. He let the silence hang between them because he didn’t know why she was here. She’d been pretty clear about things when she hung up on him earlier and honestly, he’d been too worried about Willow to give it any further thought. Had something else happened with her stalker? Before he could inquire, she finally spoke.
“I’m so sorry. Is Willow all right?”
The unexpected concern made the lump of emotion he’d been choking on for the last several hours swell in this throat. He swallowed it down before speaking. “The doctors say she will be. But she hasn’t woken yet and they don’t know why.”
“Wow… I’m such a bitch.” She dropped her face into her hands.
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her statement wasn’t entirely untrue and he didn’t get the feeling she was fishing for a placating response. She wasn’t looking for comfort because the woman was too bullheaded to accept it—even if he had the inclination to alleviate her guilt, which he didn’t. He was too emotionally exhausted to even try.
In the end, he went with honesty, because that was all he had to give. “I don’t know why you are the way you are, Pen. And I won’t ask because you wouldn’t tell me anyway. But I do know there’s a reason for it. For better or worse, we’re all products of our environment. You push people away, and I think I need to save everyone. We all have our crosses to bear, I guess. Who’s to say one’s more fucked up than the other? At least you don’t have to live your life hating yourself.”
The laugh she gave him was a soft feminine bark that held no humor, just palpable sadness. “Who said I don’t hate myself, Kyle? If you really knew me, you wouldn’t even be talking to me right now. What I can’t fathom is why you’d possibly feel that way. You’re the most selfless guy I know. You’re practically a freaking saint.”
He studied her, wondering how in the hell she’d ever gotten such a misconstrued idea of him. Good God, he wasn’t selfless. Maybe on the outside it appeared that way, but it was all a lie. The motivation behind his self-sacrificing actions made him the most selfish person he knew. And as for sainthood? That was a joke.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked her. “I blame myself every single day for my parents’ accident. Common sense tells me it wasn’t my fault, but since when is guilt rational? My sister was nearly killed—twice—by the same bastard who killed our parents, and I hate myself for not protecting her—then or now. I can’t bear the thought of letting her go, because she’s all I’ve lived for, for five years. Talk about your co-dependency. I’m like the poster child for that shit. I selfishly held onto Willow until she ripped herself out of my life. I lost my best friend because I beat the shit out of him and told him he wasn’t good enough for her, when the truth is, he’s probably the best thing that ever happened to her because he’s accomplished the one thing no one else ever has.”
“What’s that?”
“He makes her happy. She’s finally found happiness and now…” His voice cracked and he exhaled a sigh, dragging his hands through his hair. “I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up. My sister may leave this earth and her last words to me were ‘I hate you.’ But I assure you, it couldn’t be any more than I hate myself.”
“Oh, Kyle.” Pen reached for him, her hand sliding over his back.
He tensed, the ripple in his muscles growing rigid beneath her palm. She was about to pull her hand back, convinced she’d made a mistake. What did she know about comforting anyone? She wasn’t any good at this. How could she give something she knew nothing about? She had no memory bank of warm and fuzzy moments in her life to draw from, and her pathetic gesture felt limp and awkward.
But then he relaxed, easing into her touch as exhaustion and fatigue seemed to invade every muscle in his body. Minutes passed and she continued with the up and down motion. Becoming braver, a little more confident she wasn’t completely screwing this up, she said, “I know what it’s like to look at yourself through your own tainted lens and not like what you see. But trust me, Kyle, any guy that would do what you’ve done for Willow, what you’ve offered to do for me. You’re a good guy. Better than I certainly deserve.”
He canted his head and studied her. “Yo
u don’t get it, do you?”
Her hand stopped moving. “Get what?”
“Why I offered to help you.” He looked like he was about to say more but then must have changed his mind, because he abruptly stood and offered her his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m tired and I need some rest and a shower before I head back here.”
So…all was forgiven between them? Just like that? It couldn’t be that easy, could it? Yet here he was, offering her a second chance. He still wanted to help her, and as much as she’d tried to tell herself she didn’t need it, deep down, she wanted it. There was a part of her that was scared, and an even larger part of her that was simply tired of being alone. She wanted to be with him, even if it was only for appearance sake, and for just a little while.
A war waged inside her—a battle between her independence and that little girl she’d thought no longer existed, the one who wanted someone to love and protect her. The effort it took to reach out and take his hand, to accept what he was offering took more courage than she thought she was capable of.
His grasp was gentle but firm, and when she stood, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight as he whispered against the top of her head, “There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
If he only knew…
Chapter Fourteen
Kyle stood in the shower, legs parted, hands splayed against the tile wall as he let the water frisk him. He was exhausted—physically and emotionally. He was grateful to have someplace to go other than back to his empty house. Since Willow had left, the place was too big. Too quiet. The void left by her absence made it unbearable to stay there, especially now. Part of moving on was letting go. He knew that. Problem was, Kyle didn’t know where he fit in this world anymore, and that feeling of being adrift was a painful and lonely place to be.
He hadn’t thought anyone would understand that, but tonight at the hospital, Pen had given him the impression that he wasn’t the only one experiencing what it was like to paddle through life with one ore. Was it possible they had more in common than he realized?
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head forward, welcoming the hot blast against his shoulder blades. He’d almost started to relax when a shrill scream echoed through the house. He startled, his heart ratcheting inside his chest as he shut off the water and bolted from the shower. Slipping and sliding on the wet tile, he snagged the towel off the rack and hastily wrapped it around his waist.
“Kyle!”
The terror in Pen’s voice was like fingers of icy dread reaching into his chest and grabbing hold of his heart. Leaving a trail of water behind him, he raced toward her scream, skidding to a halt as he entered the kitchen.
At first, he didn’t see her cause for alarm. His eyes were too busy focusing on the terrified woman backed against the corner of the kitchen counter. And then he heard it—the low warning hiss and the telltale rattle that turned the blood in his veins to ice.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. Through the legs of the chair, a rattlesnake lay coiled on the floor, ready to strike. It was partially hidden by the table, but the damn thing was in between him and Pen. There was no way to get to her and she couldn’t walk past it without getting bitten.
“Pen.” He wasn’t sure if she even heard him. Her wide, frightened stare was locked on the snake glaring back at her. “Pen.” He tried again to get her attention, fearing if he made any sudden movements, the damn thing would strike. But he needed to do something, and none of the scenarios running through his head right now were ending favorably. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Her nod was nearly imperceptible as she stood frozen in fear. Was she even breathing? All the color had drained from her face, leaving her ghostly pale.
Stepping to the left and out of the snake’s line of sight, he circled the reptile, cautiously creeping forward. When his hand dropped to his waist, her wide, frightened gaze darted to him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered in a panicked rush.
“I’m going to toss my towel on the snake. When I do, jump up on the counter.”
“Are you kidding me? Kyle, what if it sees you? My whole body is numb right now. I don’t think I can move!”
“You have to. This isn’t going to distract it for very long.”
“I don’t know. Maybe if it sees you standing there naked, your snake will scare it off.”
He shot her a surprised look. “You’re seriously joking with me right now?”
“It’s what I do when I’m stressed, Kyle. I either laugh or I cry. What do you want? Jokes or tears?”
“Well, then keep ‘em coming, Gabriel Iglesias,” he grumbled, finding zero humor in this situation, but thankful she wasn’t crying. That would have undone him. Slowly, he approached the rattler, hoping the table and chairs would protect him from a direct strike if the thing decided to lash out at him. His reflexes were fast. Perhaps not fast enough when matched against a rattler, but they would soon find out.
“Seriously, Kyle. Maybe you shouldn’t do this.”
He tugged the corner of the towel free, careful not to make any sudden movements. The white terry cloth fell off his waist.
“This would be so hot if I wasn’t scared I was going to die.”
“That’s really funny…”
“Is it?”
“No. I’m naked in the kitchen with a rattlesnake, Pen. If you’re looking for a laugh, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” He stopped when he reached the table and cautiously peered over the other side. Spotting his target, he held up the towel, preparing to toss it onto the snake.
“Wait! I’m not ready!” Her eyes glistened with tears as she pleaded with him to stop.
Guess the time for jokes was over. The tears were coming now. “I have to do this, Pen. We gotta get you out of there. On three, I’m going to throw the towel and you’re going to jump up on the counter. Okay?”
She nodded.
“All right. One, two, three…”
He tossed the towel and as soon as it landed on the snake’s head, Pen leapt up on the counter. It lunged forward, narrowly missing her ankle and snarling a nasty hiss, but the towel was big and heavy enough to prevent it from striking. As it wrestled to get free, Kyle rushed toward her and she leapt into his arms. He turned and they hauled ass into his bedroom. Slamming the door behind him, he pointed to the end of his bed. “Toss me my sweatpants.” As soon as they landed in his hand, he dropped them and used his foot to wedge them in the small gap between the floor and the door. With the threat contained, he turned and leaned against the door, giving his heart a chance to clear some of the adrenaline flooding his system.
How in the hell did that thing get in here?
Pen was scared out of her freaking mind, but now the immediate threat to life and limb was over, it was impossible not to notice there was a naked MMA fighter locked in the bedroom with her. There were worse scenarios she could imagine, and this was certainly a welcome distraction. Too bad a freaking rattlesnake was loose in her house, because she could think of a hundred different things she’d rather be doing with this guy than calling Animal Control.
Maybe it was narrowly escaping a near-death experience, but Pen’s adrenaline was on overdrive and so was her libido after taking a good long look at the exquisitely sculpted display of masculine perfection standing in front of her. Or maybe obsessing over Kyle’s hot body was easier than acknowledging what was really going on—she was starting to have feelings for him.
He’d saved her. She’d needed him and he’d been there for her—even at the expense of his own safety. No one had ever cared enough to risk their life for her before. And that realization was unsettling at best, and terrifying at worst, because she could not let herself fall for Kyle Scott. She couldn’t risk her heart getting broken when he discovered the truth about her. It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.
She’d told him no sex as a stipulation to moving in with her because Pen hadn’t wanted him offering t
o help her with any ulterior motives. Was she going to break her own rules? She thought she might. This platonic relationship was really starting to mess with her head. Without sex to compartmentalize her emotions, she was having a hard time keeping her walls in place. Was it messed up? Absolutely. But letting her guard down and allowing Kyle to truly see how much his bravery had meant to her was not an option.
Besides, if they were going to be playing up the boyfriend/girlfriend act, why shouldn’t they be giving this a dry run? What actor goes onstage without practicing? Seeing him like that—chest heaving, head tipped back, eyes closed, was reminding her just how hot the sex between them had been, and did she really want to keep denying herself when he was only a door away? These were all good questions she’d have to ponder later because Kyle caught her eye-fucking him. Awesome.
He pushed away from the door and headed for the dresser, his brow arched in question, or maybe surprise, though she couldn’t fathom why he’d be shocked. Women threw themselves at him on the daily. He must have been used to it by now. Why would he expect her to be any different?
Opening the drawer, he grabbed a pair of gym shorts and pulled them on, foregoing the underwear. No, this man was definitely not shy. The waistband of his shorts rode low on his hips, displaying that delicious V that made her panties melt. Every. Time. He had to know the outline of his cock was resting against his thigh, blatantly on display. Kyle didn’t bother with a shirt before heading to the nightstand and grabbing his cell.
He placed a quick call to the police and reported their reptilian invader, then after hanging up, he discarded his cell and surprised Pen by grabbing her wrist and pulling her into his arms. “Holy shit. That was close.” He squeezed her tight and she could feel his heart hammering against her breast. It took her breath away, but then, oxygen was overrated when compared to the wall of hard, muscled flesh she was up against. “I was so scared you were going to get bitten.”
In for the Win Page 12
