“Dylan, you’re looking good. Very good, actually,” Lucia says in a suggestive voice, wiggling her bushy eyebrows. She bats her eyelashes at him, and it literally makes his skin crawl. He ignores her and starts putting the groceries on the belt.
“You know, I was really upset when Porter questioned us about Myra’s car; as if we had anything to do with that.”
Dylan continues to ignore her and unloads the groceries.
“I heard that you and Myra broke up.” Dylan almost drops the milk in his hand.
“What did you just say?”
“I heard you guys broke up. If you get lonely, feel free to give me a call, anytime.”
“Who the hell did you hear that from?”
“I don’t know. It’s a small town. You can’t take a shit without someone knowing about it,” she says with a laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Dylan almost growls as he roughly grabs his cart. But before he can get the fuck outta there, someone calls out his name. Frowning, he turns around.
“Oh my goodness… I can’t believe I’m running into you like this. What an amazing coincidence.” He rolls his eyes and snarls when he sees that Rhonda woman grinning happily. “You and Myra broke up? I really hate to hear that…”
Dylan doesn’t respond and turns around, stomping out of the store. He’s just so sick of this town. He wants everyone to stay out of his damn business. He’s annoyed from seeing Derek, disgusted by Lucia, revolted from seeing Rhonda, pissed at Sabrina, and upset at all the shit happening with Myra. He can only think of one way to take his mind off of everything, and now that his dad’s gone, and not breathing down his neck every second, he plans to do just that.
* * *
“What’s he doing out there?” Jackie says as she looks out the window for the twentieth time. “I worked twelve hours today, and I’m exhausted. It’s late and I need to go to bed. Go out there and tell him to get his ass inside.”
Myra nods and grabs her coat. “I’ll be right back,” she mumbles as she closes the door behind her. Dylan’s been out in his truck for hours. She just figured he needed some time away from her as usual, but this is getting a little ridiculous. As she gets closer to the truck, she frowns and starts to panic. The front windows are both rolled down about halfway, but she doesn’t see Dylan anywhere. Walking up to the driver’s side window, she peers inside. A startled gasp leaves her mouth when she sees Dylan lying on his back in the front seat with beer cans littering the floorboard.
“Dylan? What’s going on?”
He lifts his head, his eyes droopy and smiles widely. “It’s you. Hi, you…”
His hair is standing up all over his head, and he looks like such an adorable mess that she can’t help but smile back.
She hangs her fingers over the edge of the window and leans in. “Have you been drinking?” she asks in an accusing voice.
He smirks. “A little… You want some?” He looks around then frowns. “Well, shit. I drank it all.”
She tries opening the door, but it’s locked. She sticks her arm down through the open window, but can’t reach it. “Dylan? Can you unlock the door?”
Slowly, he sits up. He looks at the buttons on the door and then back up at her and snorts. “Which button?”
She tries not to snicker. “See the keys in the ignition?” she says, pointing. “Press the button that says unlock…”
He presses the lock button twice. “No. Not that button, the other one.”
He finally presses the right button and unlocks the door. She opens it and climbs in the driver’s side.
“Hi,” he says again, smiling. He beams at her like her showing up just made his day.
She smiles back. “Hi. Can you move over a little bit?”
“Sure,” he says happily as he moves over. She rolls the windows up and turns the heat on.
“Why are you out here drinking?”
“I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “Just got thirsty I guess.”
She hums as she turns in her seat to look at him.
He’s still grinning at her from ear to ear, his eyes glassy. He’s so cute she can’t help but smile back at him. He’s a happy drunk, the total opposite of his normal angry, gruff self.
“You’re so pretty, like really pretty,” he says, leaning towards her. “You’re like the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
She giggles especially when she considers how beautiful his supermodel ex-wife is. “Thank you. How about we go inside now? It’s pretty cold out here, don’t you think?”
“Nah, it’s not cold. Come here,” he says, grabbing her hand and tugging her closer. “I have to tell you sumpin’.”
“What?”
“I don’t like that Jackie person. She’s mean. So I’ll just stay right here.”
Myra sighs, trying to figure out what to do next. She turns off the truck and slips the keys in her pocket. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
He grabs her arm. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay,” he says happily with a big, wide grin.
When she gets up to Jackie’s door, she finds Jackie standing there with her hands on her hips. “Well? What’s going on?”
“He’s drunk, and he won’t come in. What should I do? I can’t leave him out there in the cold.”
“That man is so annoying,” Jackie rants as she puts on her shoes and grabs her coat. “Let’s see if we can get his stupid ass in the house.”
Jackie marches up to Dylan’s truck and throws open the door. “All right, I’m grouchy because I’m tired. Now get up and get your ass in the house, Dylan. Let’s go.”
“Why’d you bring her?” he asks Myra. He looks back at Jackie. “My ass ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Jackie looks at Myra. “He’s too big for us to drag into the house. I say we just leave him out here all night. Let him sleep it off.”
“I can’t do that,” Myra says. “What if the stalker shows up and hurts him or something?”
“Well, call Porter and have him come over and help us.”
Myra looks at her watch. “It’s almost midnight. Plus, I can’t call Porter for something like this.”
“Well, we have no other choice than to just leave him.”
“No. I’ll stay out here with him.”
“You’ll what?” Jackie shouts as Myra closes the truck door. She starts walking back towards the house with Jackie shouting at her the entire way. “You can’t stay out here! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of in my life. What if the stalker shows up while you’re out there? The two of you could get murdered!”
“No, we won’t. I’ll take my gun with me. I can protect us.”
“This is unbelievable,” Jackie says, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Whatever, Myra, I can tell I’m not going to be able to talk any sense into you. If something happens, remember that I warned you, and that I am not responsible.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll protect him.”
Jackie sighs. “Well, give me one last hug since I may never see you again,” she says as she pulls Myra into a hug. When she lets her go, she sighs. “I’m off to bed. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d fight with you more. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Myra gathers some pillows, several blankets, a flashlight and her gun and heads back out to Dylan’s truck.
“Hi, again, pretty lady,” he greets her, grinning.
“Hi,” she says, grinning back, as she climbs into the truck. She turns the heat on high again. “Let me feel your hands,” she says, reaching for his. They feel like icicles.
“Dylan, you’re freezing. Let me warm them up for you,” she says as she starts rubbing his hands in between hers.
“Mm… you’re so warm.”
Goosebumps break out on her neck when she feels his nose in her hair. “You smell… yummy,” he whispers, causing her to giggle. He’s so drunk.
“We’re really having a baby?” he asks out of the clear
blue, causing her to gasp. She quickly looks up at him and sees that his expression is serious.
“Yes. We are,” she whispers, her heart beating hard.
He frowns. “I’m sorry I was mean. I don’t wanna be like that.”
“I know. I forgive you. It’s okay.”
He picks up her hand and brings it up to his chest over his heart. She looks up at him as he looks down at her, his eyes shiny. “I need to tell you sumpin’. This,” he whispers as he presses her hand against his chest, “is yours… my heart. It’s all yours. My heart, well, it loves you, but it hurts. I don’t know how to make it stop. It just hurts all the time, ya know?”
Myra nods, tears filling her eyes. “I know,” she whispers back. “I wish it didn’t hurt.” She rubs the spot over his heart, wishing she could take his pain away.
“Me too,” he whispers as a tear spills down his cheek. “I’m scared.”
“I know you are,” she whispers, bringing her other hand up and wiping the tear from his face. She cradles his jaw in her hand. “I am too.”
“I love you,” he mumbles, his voice slurring, his eyelids heavy.
Her heart stops in her chest, those drunken, slurred words so precious to her. She closes her eyes, tears on her cheeks as she savors them. She tries to memorize every vowel; how they sounded on his lips. She opens her eyes and starts to share with him what’s in her heart when she sees his head bob as he nods off to sleep. “I love you, too, Dylan,” she whispers back, tears blinding her eyes. “So much that it hurts.”
Grabbing a pillow, she tucks it lovingly behind his head. She turns off the truck, then crawls into his lap, sitting sideways and wraps a blanket around them. She tucks her gun in her coat pocket and sets the flashlight on the floorboard so she can grab it quickly if needed.
She picks up his limp left hand and kisses each of his fingers. Flipping it over, she kisses each of the rough callouses on his hand and then his palm. “Dylan, I love you,” she murmurs, her voice choking with emotion. “I love everything about you.” She brings his hand to her chest like he did hers and presses it there. “I ache inside too. I ache for you. I know you hurt and I’d do anything to take your pain away.” Keeping his hand close to her heart, she moves her own to his chest. “There’s a beautiful man in there, Dylan, I know there is. He’s just hiding behind all that pain.”
He snores lightly as she runs her fingers through his hair, touching his cheekbones, his jaw, his lips. She knows she shouldn’t be touching him so intimately while he’s inebriated and passed out, but she finds that she can’t help herself. She presses her lips to his, kissing them softly. He groans and shifts, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her tighter against him. “Mm, Myra,” he hums, a small smile on his lips. Myra gets a flashback to a time not so long ago when he was drunk and whispered Sabrina’s name in her ear. Now it’s her name on his lips. She smiles, settling her head against his chest, bringing their entwined hands close to her heart. She closes her eyes and whispers, “My heart is yours too. It’s all yours.”
CHAPTER 12
DESERT, ISOLATION
Dylan stirs and his head feels like someone’s beating the shit out of his skull with a hammer. Sensing Myra’s warm, soft body on top of him, he ignores the pain for a moment as his hand slides down to her ass, squeezing it and pressing her closer. Her thigh rubs against his hard cock and the friction feels so fucking good. He tries to swallow but has no goddamn saliva in his mouth. The inside of his mouth tastes like he’s been sucking on old dirty rags.
He tries to open his eyes, but they feel like they’re glued shut. He shifts again and he can tell he’s laying down somewhere. He moves his other hand up to scratch at his neck when his hand comes in contact with something cold. He jerks back away from it and tries to lift his head to see what the hell he just touched. But his eyes scrunch up in agony as pain radiates from the top of his head, shooting out of his temples and forehead. He groans as he gently lowers his head back down.
For several minutes, he doesn’t move a muscle. He stays still as he waits for the hammering in his head to subside a bit. After another painful swallow, he scrapes his teeth over his chapped lower lip and tries to pry open one eye.
Everything’s so blurry and bright that he cringes and slowly turns his head to the side. As he tries to peer through the tiny slit of his scrunched up eye, he blinks several times and things start to come into focus, and he sees a… dashboard?
With great effort, he turns his head slightly and pries his other eye open, squinting and blinking, and sees the top of Myra’s head. Where the fuck is he? What happened last night? All he can remember is something about them… fighting? He remembers chasing after her with his truck and being extremely pissed off for some reason.
He wonders if this could be some kind of a dream… if it is, he prays like hell he never wakes up, ever. He pulls Myra tighter to him with the hand that rests on her ass. But something nags at the edges of his memory, just barely out of reach. Why were they fighting? Was that the nightmare…?
His other hand touches Myra’s laying against his chest. Grasping it, he pulls her hand tighter and presses it against his…
His eyes pop open but shut immediately when the light causes searing pain.
A feeling of déjà vu comes over him. Something about his heart… What was it? He tries desperately to remember. He told her something but what? His heart, it…
Someone pounds on the window, causing him to almost jump out of his goddamn skin. “Myra?” an annoyingly high-pitched voice trills. Myra jerks and shrieks in terror. When he opens his eyes, Myra is sitting up between his legs, holding a gun in both hands aimed directly at the window. Her eyes are wide and her hands are trembling so hard she can barely hold onto it.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, grabbing at his head and closing his eyes for a second because of the pain.
“What the hell, Myra?” Jackie shrieks, causing Dylan to wince and groan.
“Oh my god... Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Dylan. She scared me so badly,” Myra mumbles in an out-of-breath voice. He peers at her through his squinted eyes and watches as she lays the gun down on the floorboard. She turns the key in the ignition enough to roll the window down.
“What were you thinking?” Jackie screams at Myra. “You almost shot me! Holy crap... You just pointed a gun at my head! You could have killed me, Myra, do you know that? You could have killed me!”
“I know. I’m so sorry. You scared me… I didn’t mean to…”
“You might not have meant to, but you still did it!” Jackie shouts.
“For Christ’s sake, would you please lower your goddamn voice,” Dylan says through gritted teeth.
“No, I won’t!” Jackie shouts as she sticks her head inside the window and stares down at Dylan lying down in the seat. “It’s your fault that she’s out here with a stupid gun in the first place. How could you go and get drunk like that, huh? You put the both of you in danger.”
The pounding in Dylan’s skull multiplies by a million, which he didn’t think was humanly possible.
“Quit yelling at him,” Myra says in a low, angry voice.
“Quit defending him!” Jackie shouts back.
Everyone quiets for a moment, while Dylan rubs his temples.
Finally, Jackie sighs. “I need to go finish getting ready for work so I’ll be in the house. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Dylan assumes she walks away, but he doesn’t know because he can’t see anything from his prone position.
Myra touches his chest. “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
“No.”
“Do you remember anything from last night?” she asks.
“No,” he says, keeping his eyes on hers. She watches him for a moment before her expression drops. She stares down at her hands in her lap as she frowns and nods slightly.
He does remember a few things, something about… his heart. Shutting his eyes tightly, he groans wh
en a visual of him offering his heart up on a goddamn platter flashes in front of his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
He tries to sit up but it’s hard with Myra sitting on her knees between his legs. He finally manages to scoot his back against the door. He clears his throat. “What exactly happened last night?”
“Well, you were out here in your truck, drinking. Jackie and I tried to get you to come into the house, but you wouldn’t.”
“You stayed with me… out here? What the fuck were you thinking?” he says much too loudly causing him to groan and grab his temples.
“I couldn’t leave you out here by yourself; I had to stay. I care about you too much.”
Her words cause a funny, weird fluttering feeling in his chest. “Shit, Myra, you shouldn’t have done that. I’m supposed to be the one protecting you… and our baby.” The more he thinks about it the more pissed off he gets. “Goddamn it. What if something had happened to you while my stupid ass was passed out drunk? Holy shit...” His eyes squeeze shut as his breathing becomes rushed.
She grabs his hand in hers and rubs it. “Dylan, calm down, nothing happened. I am capable of taking care of myself and our baby. I had my gun and—”
His eyes fly open. “Yeah, and you almost shot Jackie in the fucking head,” he says, grimacing at the volume of his voice.
“I wouldn’t have, I mean—”
“Jesus Christ, Myra, I’m so fucking pissed right now.” He closes his eyes and tries to calm down but can’t. “What the fuck was I thinking?” he growls under his breath. “I don’t know why the hell I was drinking when you’ve got a goddamn stalker out there. Fuck. I put you and our baby in danger. You need to put yourself first for once and stop being so goddamn selfless because if anything had happened to you, I’d… I’d…” He’d die, he’d totally fucking die, he knows he would. It’d kill him.
Dylan frowns when Myra doesn’t respond and a strange look comes over her face. Her eyes widen as her hand flies to her mouth.
Dylan starts to reach behind him to try and get the passenger door open, but before he can, Myra has the driver’s side open and is out. With his head throbbing and the earth spinning, he somehow manages to follow her and slide across the seat, stumbling out of the truck. Grabbing her hair, he holds it back for her as she heaves into the grass. His stomach rolls as well probably from a combination of the booze he consumed last night and seeing her like this. It hurts him to see her so sick.
Color of Forgiveness Page 32
