Trust An Even Hand
Page 22
Stupid, brave, lovable man.
It was that last part that was going to get her into trouble. But as she looked into Luke’s gold-flecked eyes, the ash from her home floating between them, she didn’t care. She trusted herself to feel that love fully, for the first time. Because he’d shown her she could.
And it nearly bowled her over.
And then she saw his eyes flick up, and flash darkness. She turned her head, already knowing what she would see.
Jimmy.
“What are you doing, Mr. Walters?”
The EMT’s voice cut through the surreal haze that surrounded Charlene as her ex approached her. She stood there, frozen, not believing it and knowing, all at the same time.
Why was he here? For her lowest moment, when everything had gone wrong, he had to come back? And Charlene didn’t know how she was going to breathe from one minute to the next without screaming bloody murder.
But she didn’t need to. Because in the next moment, Luke was there. His arm around her, his solid body towering over hers for a moment, and then in front of her. Between her and Jimmy. Between her and danger.
“Mr. Walters, if you do not get back to the ambulance, I will need to call the police officers over again,” the EMT was saying.
“That’s my wife,” Jimmy said. His eyes glazed. He wasn’t even looking at Charlene—he was talking to Luke.
Charlene’s skin crawled.
“We are divorced, Jimmy,” she said, and somehow her voice didn’t shake.
Jimmy blinked, and looked at her. Seemed to see her for a second, through his drunken haze. A moment where maybe he understood. Maybe he saw that they were over.
And then he got mean again.
“That’s bullshit,” he slurred, and he stepped forward, his dirty hand reaching for her arm.
For the third time that night, time stopped.
Luke expected that to happen when he saw Charlene. Expected it when he was afraid for her, expected it when he saw she was safe.
But nothing could prepare him for what happened when he saw Jimmy Walters reach for her like she was misplaced property.
His whole life, Luke had been fighting a battle no one else could see. He’d been fighting the knowledge that the thing that made his father turn dark, that monster that only lived for violence, that thing lived inside him too. It must. The two of them looked the same, talked the same. They even walked the same, and they said a man’s gait was like his fingerprint. They were both warriors. Only Luke had spent his entire life making sure that the things he fought were worth fighting.
Not people who couldn’t fight back. Not because of his own feelings of inadequacy or frustration. Not to impose his authority with abuse.
No, Luke had been deliberate about his targets. Because he would not be like him. He would never, ever do anything that risked turning himself into someone like his father.
He’d kept it simple. Always do what’s right. Protect the weak and vulnerable. And don’t have a family. Don’t ever allow anyone to get that close to you, because you could not guarantee what would happen if that monster that you knew lived inside you ever rose up.
And for only the second time in his life, when he saw Jimmy Walters trying to lay a hand on Charlene, Luke could feel that monster begin to stir.
Jimmy was now the second person that Luke had ever wanted to lay a violent hand on, after his own father. And holy shit did he want it. He wanted to unleash all that rage and righteous fury and fear on the man who had caused it all. He wanted to make Jimmy Walters hurt as badly as he’d hurt others. He wanted to make it right, and the desire was so strong, so overwhelming, that for a second all Luke could do was marvel at it.
And then he looked at Charlene.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Charlene didn’t move, even though normally she would try to get as far away from her ex-husband as possible. She was too transfixed by what she saw happening in Luke’s eyes.
There was anger there. And something else. Something that burned bright behind that anger, something…
“Step away from her,” Luke growled. “Do it now.”
That broke the spell. The EMT blinked, looked at Charlene, looked at the two men, and nodded.
“I’m going to get the officers,” she said. “Mr. Walters, it was a courtesy to let you get hydrated first, I suggest you go back to the ambulance and try to convince someone to give you a new IV.”
And she walked away.
Neither of the men spoke. They just stared at each other until Jimmy finally took a step back, puffing his chest out ridiculously as he did so.
“I’m not scared of you,” he said to Luke.
Very quietly, Luke said, “You should be.”
But then, once again, he looked at Charlene.
And what she saw in Luke’s eyes finally made sense to her.
The chaos around her, as firefighters pumped water into her beloved, burning house, as ash swirled and lights flashed, none of it compared to the struggle she saw going on in Luke. There was that anger, of course, the anger she shared—hell, there was no way Luke was as angry as Charlene was—and it scared her. Not because she was frightened of Luke. But because she knew, finally, what that would mean for him to feel that.
His folks weren’t a part of his life. He didn’t talk about his past. His father beat him, even if Luke hadn’t phrased it that way. And he was, above all, an honorable man, who always tried to do the right thing.
The last thing in the world Luke would ever want to be was the kind of man who gave in to anger. Charlene could feel that anger and not have to be afraid of it. But Luke…Luke was under the impression that he needed to be afraid of who he was.
And only Charlene could see how wrong he was about that. And she could see it because she was looking into his eyes, right then, at that moment, and she saw the love there, too.
When Luke spoke next, he was calm.
“Sober up, Jimmy,” he said. “The police are gonna be looking for you.”
And Luke stepped firmly between Charlene and Jimmy, as if his looming bulk wasn’t protection enough.
“The hell with you,” Jimmy smirked. But he didn’t look confident.
And an alarm went off in Charlene’s head.
“Wait, why do you keep talking about the police?” she said. “What happened?”
Luke’s brow furrowed, but his eyes locked on Jimmy, like he was a threat.
“I found him asleep with a bottle of bourbon and a lighter on the front porch,” he said. “While the house burned.”
Charlene blinked.
“What?”
“I got the security alert, and when I got here the fire was already come out the windows in the living room, and I couldn’t see a goddamn thing. I ran inside, only you weren’t there. I just found…this.”
And he looked at Jimmy.
Distantly, Charlene heard the contempt in Luke’s voice as he talked about Jimmy, and, just as distantly, it was dawning on her that her ex-husband had come here and set fire to her house.
But that wasn’t what had her mouth hanging open.
“You ran inside?” she said.
She’d thought Luke had just been here when the fire started, working on wedding stuff. She was prepared to have a conversation with him when she got back, was prepared to try to negotiate those boundaries. Not for a second had she thought he’d gotten the alert and raced back only to literally run inside a burning house when he thought she was in danger.
That was why he was burned. That was why he was covered in soot. That was why he’d been getting oxygen. He’d run inside a burning building because he thought she might be inside.
This time, when he looked at her, the whole world fell away.
“I didn’t know where you were,” he said, like that explained it.
“Hey,” Jimmy said, aware that he was no longer relevant. “Hey, you’re my wife.”
Charlene turned on him with a ferocity she didn’t know she had.
Her voice was shaking, and the instant she said it she knew she wouldn’t be able to follow through, not in a million years. But damn did it feel good to see her abusive ex take a step back.
It felt even better to see Luke step forward.
She didn’t hear what Luke said to her ex. But she did see the marks on Luke’s arms, the places where he’d been hurt trying to protect her.
And she knew what she had to do next, even if it broke her heart just a little bit more.
This was a mistake.
Luke was driving back to his apartment, and Charlene was in the passenger seat. His burns were starting to hurt, the adrenaline was wearing off, and he was all too aware of the risk. But nothing was louder, in his head, than his need to take care of his sub. And the way she’d looked at him when she said she just wanted to make sure he had what he needed at his apartment…
Was how he ended up with the one woman he wanted, and the one woman he couldn’t allow himself to have, in his passenger seat.
Luke checked his rearview mirror and saw Gavin’s headlights following behind, as he’d insisted. Good. She’d have a ride back to the club, where there would be people to care for her, look after her.
Even if he couldn’t do it himself.
Luke tightened his grip on the steering wheel and winced, his skin pulling tight on the burns on his forearms.
“I wish you’d let me drive,” she said.
“It’s my truck,” he said. And if he didn’t have something else to focus on, he’d lose his mind. Being close to her again and knowing he couldn’t have her was worse than running into a burning building.
He stole a glance at her. She was gripping at things just as hard as he was, her hands pulling at the hem of her dress.
“Next time,” he offered.
“Next time you run into my house while it’s on fire, you’ll let me drive you home?” she said.
But he could hear the smile in her voice. He grinned.
“Seems fair,” he said.
“You’re impossible,” she said. “This it?”
Luke nodded, waved to the security guy on duty and gestured back at Gavin’s car, and pulled into the garage under his converted loft building. He wondered what she thought. It didn’t feel like his kind of place anymore, but he couldn’t think of a house that would, if it didn’t have Charlene in it.
Well, his penthouse would have Charlene in it for a moment. Might as well enjoy it as much as he could.
“It’s not much,” he said, opening the door.
“It’s gigantic,” she said, and turned around, taking in the big factory windows and the view of the city.
“It’s close to the office,” he said, and tossed his keys on the big marble kitchen island.
And then he winced, because he forgot about those damn burns.
“I really can’t convince you to go to the hospital?” she asked.
Luke looked at her.
“That’s a no, then,” Charlene said, and smiled softly.
Christ, he wanted to kiss her.
No, more than that. He saw Charlene standing in the shadows, in his own apartment, in her own smudged dress, worried about him when it was her house that had just been set on fire by a goddamn lunatic, and he fucking fought. He fought because all he wanted in the world was to hold her close, to protect and cherish and dominate his sub for the rest of his goddamn life, and he couldn’t.
He couldn’t do it, because he knew any comfort he gave her now, he’d have to take away. And maybe Charlene could take it, but for the first time in his life, Luke wasn’t sure he could.
“What is it?” she said softly.
“Nothing,” he said, and shook his head. Get this over with. “Medicine cabinet’s in there,” he said, and pointed at his bedroom.
“Right,” she said, letting her eyes fall away. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”
Luke turned his back, not trusting himself to walk her watch into his bedroom without losing it. He missed this woman more than anything he’d ever loved in his life. He missed the way she looked at him, he missed the way she felt, he missed the way she tasted.
He shook his head again and pulled his shirt over his head, grimacing as he grazed some new burned spots. He’d been so focused on finding her, he didn’t remember getting any of them.
“Jesus,” she said as she came back in.
“It’s not too bad,” he said.
“Luke…”
But she didn’t finish her thought. Just looked at him, with those big brown eyes full of tears.
“It’s not bad at all,” he said. “I can do it myself.”
“No!” she said, and that was the closest she’d come to ever giving him an order. They both stopped, and smiled. “Sit down,” she said.
Luke looked at her, hard. Not your sub anymore.
“All right,” he said, and sat down on the couch, his arms stretched out over his knees, his chest bare.
Why the hell had he agreed to this? It was torture.
But Charlene didn’t seem to notice as she worked over his wounds, such as they were, cleaning them, putting that antibacterial stuff everywhere, bandaging them. He watched her face the whole time, wondering if he was doing her more harm than good. Wondering if he was really strong enough to resist.
Finally her fingers rested on his arm, and she looked up.
“Do you remember,” she said, “when I told you I was protecting Simone by not asking her to help out with the wedding stuff?”
“What about it?”
“You said that was bullshit, and you were right,” she said. “Can I just ask… Do you think you’re protecting me from something? By not being with me?”
Luke looked at his former sub. Fuck that, she was still his sub. That energy didn’t go away, it didn’t fade. And the woman who still held his heart was looking right into his goddamn soul, and demanding an answer.
“Yes, I am,” he said.
Charlene didn’t blink.
“Well, that’s just more bullshit,” she said.
“This is different,” he said. “You don’t know.”
Charlene’s fingers started to dance across his arm, and Luke braced himself.
He needed her.
He couldn’t have her.
He looked at her, and he forced himself to remember what had happened when he’d seen Jimmy. He forced himself to remember that monster rising up in him, the one he’d gotten from his father. The one he always knew was there, and that always posed a risk to anyone he loved.
He’d looked at her then, too, when he’d felt it rise up, and that’s the only reason he’d been able to fight it off. And he loved her too much to ever bring that near her ever again.
Fuck. I’m in love with her.
“Charlene,” he rasped. “You don’t know.”
“I want to know,” she said, and brushed her thumb against his skin.
With a growl, Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, so she was standing between his spread legs while he sat on his couch, fighting. Fighting and losing. He put his hands on the sides of her legs as Charlene threaded her hands through his hair, and pulled her even closer, his face pressing into her stomach, his hands aching to go higher. He inhaled her scent while she murmured his name, and he almost lost it once and for all.
Almost.
With an iron will, he pulled back. Dropped his hands. Looked up at her.
And said the hardest thing he’d ever had to say.
“You need to leave,” he said.
Charlene looked at him for a long time. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered.
But it was the look on her face as she walked out of his life that broke him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Luke woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of an angry door buzzer. He opened his eyes
and shot out of bed, only one thing on his mind: Charlene. He wasn’t hazy, and his memory was perfect; it was like he hadn’t slept at all. And that buzzer meant something had happened. No one in their right mind would wake him up before dawn otherwise.
He tore open the front door to his penthouse, ready to charge downstairs, and nearly ran into Simone Delavigne, dressed to the nines and holding two cups of coffee.
“You seem tense,” Simone deadpanned.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded.
“Oh yeah, something happened, all right,” Simone said, and slid past him into his own apartment. She waltzed in like she owned the place and put one coffee cup down on the kitchen island and raised the other to her lips while looking at him like he was a misbehaving dog who’d just destroyed her new rug.
But her hand shook as she did it. Simone was here for a reason, all right, and she was playing her part to the hilt. But that didn’t make her less of sub.
Luke dialed it back as much as he could.
“Is Charlene ok?”
“Depends on your definition of ok,” Simone said. “She’s at the club, still sleeping I assume, safe and sound, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Luke rubbed his bandaged hands over his face, the adrenaline starting to recede.
“Did you just wake me up to bring me coffee?” he asked.
“Coffee and an ass kicking,” Simone said. “I’m still working up the courage for the second part.”
Luke had to laugh.
“That’s a new threat, coming from a sub,” he said.
“Yeah, well, buckle up,” Simone said. Then she took a deep breath, and looked him dead in the eye. “Why didn’t you beat Jimmy Walters into the ground last night?”
Luke lost his smile.
“That’s a very personal question,” he said.
“Well, Charlene is very personal to me,” Simone shot back. “Answer the question.”
“That would take years,” Luke said.
“As you are so fond of saying, I call bullshit,” Simone said. “I know people like us from a mile away, Luke.”
“People like us?”