Touch

by Rose Wulf

  Angela cringed and wound her arms as much around him as she could, considering that he was leaning back against a thick tree. “I’m sorry.” She paused, unable to stop herself from asking, “But your dad’s home now, right? He can’t intervene at all?”

  “He is, but he mostly just tries to stay out of it.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Angela muttered.

  “Yeah.” He tightened his arms around her again and lowered his lips to her ear, quietly adding, “It’s improving for now, though.”

  A pleasant, tingling shiver danced down Angela’s spine and she lifted herself to her tiptoes, brushing her lips over his to whisper, “That’s good.”

  Their lips connected a second later and she pulled herself closer to him, her blood immediately igniting. It was like this every time they kissed. Her libido went from zero to sixty with a single stroke of his tongue. His kiss was always so hungry, so nearly-overwhelming, so intoxicating. She forgot herself without difficulty and plunged her fingers into his hair.

  “Go to your room, young lady!”

  The deep, angry command startled them and they sprang apart. Angela’s cheeks immediately went crimson as she spun toward the source of the voice. It wasn’t until she’d pulled in several deep breaths that she finally processed she was outside and not a misbehaving teenager. And then her eyes zeroed in on the broadly grinning culprit. Her pain-in-the-ass brother. “Dean!” she exclaimed exasperatedly. “What are you doing?”

  He shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you didn’t notice when I drove by, so I thought I better come out here and make sure this little rendezvous was on the up-and-up. Clearly, it wasn’t.”

  Angela rolled her eyes, took hold of Vaughn’s hand, and declared, “Well, you’re a jerk. Go check on your saint of a wife and that adorable baby of yours. They’re inside.” She turned without waiting for a response, tugging Vaughn along after her, and waited several seconds before calling out, “Oh, and could you tell Mom and Dad I won’t be home for dinner?” That’ll eat at him.

  “Are you trying to get me killed?” Vaughn asked as he walked beside her, making no move to pull away.

  “Dean won’t kill you,” Angela assured him casually. “At least as long as you don’t break my heart.” Ohmygod, did I really just say that? She was practically doing her brothers’ job for them! They hadn’t actually touched the “relationship” subject in conversation. Whatever was going on between them was just sort of assumed. And, she figured, as soon as she had a little time to think, she might start to dwell on that. For now, though, Vaughn always seemed to be where she needed him and she had absolute faith that she could trust him. Which probably ought to be a miracle, considering my track record.

  “Yeah?” Vaughn joked, giving her hand a squeeze. “Good to know. So what are we doing for dinner?”

  Angela stumbled to a stop at his question. She’d just started walking, with no clear destination and no idea what she was really in the mood for. “Huh. I’m not sure.”

  Vaughn rumbled with laughter. “How do you feel about seafood?”

  Arching a brow up at him, Angela took a second to decide on her answer before replying, “I could go for some seafood.” It was probably strange, since she lived practically on top of the ocean, but she very rarely ate seafood. Professionally prepared seafood, anyway. “But who’s driving? Your Audi’s still at the shop.” And her car was in the driveway she’d just walked out of, like an idiot.

  “I’ve been driving my dad’s car, remember?” Vaughn reminded her as he tugged her around and toward the large, and largely hidden, property at the corner. The property his family occupied. “I’ll drive.”

  ****

  Angela could not believe her rotten luck. What did the universe have against her that a few hours alone with Vaughn was too much to ask? At least we got through dinner. It was something, she supposed. Surely her appetite would have been ruined if running into Geoff had come first. But running into Geoff at all—especially while out with Vaughn—was something Angela would have rather avoided altogether.

  Yet there he was, standing across from them with a deep frown on his lips. As if she were doing something wrong and he’d caught her in the act.

  “So this is why you dumped me,” Geoff said as he approached them. He flicked a disgusted glare at Vaughn. “You act all high and mighty, then turn around and fall into bed with the nearest dick? What, were you already fucking him?”

  Angela reared back, caught completely off-guard by the accusation.

  “The only cheater around here is you,” Vaughn bit out, a warning building in his voice.

  Uh-oh. She knew Vaughn could be overprotective. He’d volunteered to stand between her and a lightning-throwing psychopath, for crying out loud. But she hadn’t, until that moment, considered that might carry over to her non-superhuman ex. She’d certainly given him a reason to dislike Geoff in her venting, and Geoff’s unpredictable mood swings weren’t helping. So she wrapped her hands around Vaughn’s forearm and squeezed. “Ignore him, Vaughn. He’s not worth the energy.”

  “I don’t know why you think I’ll just disappear if you ignore me hard enough,” Geoff returned.

  Vaughn’s arm tensed beneath her palms and Angela snapped. “You’re right,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know why I keep thinking you have any common sense or self-respect. But feel free to keep stalking me. The minute I find you outside my window, I’m calling the cops.” Second. She tugged again on Vaughn’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Vaughn turned willingly, keeping himself between them, and she suddenly found herself grateful that it hadn’t occurred to her to tell him about the last time she’d seen Geoff.

  “You can walk away now, baby,” Geoff called smugly. “I know you’ll realize sooner or later you had it good with me.”

  “Keep dreaming, asshole,” Vaughn returned darkly as his arm withdrew from her hold long enough to wind entirely around her waist. He clamped his hand over her hip, pulled her into his side, and held her tight as they walked.

  Angela held her breath until they’d rounded the nearest corner. That could’ve been worse. It was a small consolation. For a second, she’d been certain Vaughn was going to hit him, and no matter how satisfying a part of her would surely have found the sight, he’d have probably gotten himself arrested. Geoff wasn’t anywhere near worth that. On the other hand… Vaughn’s arm was still around her, locked possessively over her waist, and just the knowledge of the visual statement they made was enough for the temperature of her blood to increase. That wasn’t so bad.

  “Sorry,” Vaughn offered a minute later, his voice lowered to a whisper.

  Smiling far too easily, Angela caught hold of the fabric over his spine and quietly replied, “Don’t be. It’s my fault he showed up.”

  “How the hell do you figure that?” Vaughn asked, the gentle apology that had been in his voice a moment earlier entirely gone.

  Shrugging, Angela said, “He’s my ex.”

  “That doesn’t make it your fault. Just because you know a person doesn’t mean you’re responsible for their irrational behavior.” He paused, pulled them to a stop, and asked, “Wait a minute, did you say he’s stalking you?”

  Oops.

  Angela managed an awkward laugh. “I was just trying to make a point! You remember I mentioned he called me a few days ago out of the blue? I’m sure I mentioned that…”

  Vaughn’s eyes narrowed and she knew he wasn’t buying her half-truth. “Angela,” he said, “what aren’t you telling me?”

  Angela swallowed audibly. Well, she was screwed now. He had clearly realized there was a detail involved in this situation that he didn’t know and he wasn’t going to let her avoid the question. She pulled in a breath in search of her voice and finally mumbled, “There might have been another incident.” Reluctantly, she told him about what had happened on Monday. “The good news,” she added quickly, “is that that’s where I found the house I mentioned. The one I put an offer on yesterday.�
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  Three seconds ticked by. She knew by counting the tics of the muscles in his jaw.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

  Trying for a casual shrug, Angela replied, “I didn’t see the point, really. It would’ve just upset you.”

  “Of course, it upsets me,” Vaughn agreed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know when someone’s bothering you. He put his hands on you, Angie. I want to know about that kind of thing.”

  The barely restrained anger and passion in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her heartbeat kicked up a couple of notches. Her breath lodged awkwardly in her throat. She wasn’t used to someone who wasn’t family saying things like that. She’d known, of course, that Vaughn cared about her enough to be protective. But it was weird, and oddly thrilling, to actually hear that sentiment in his voice. She’d always hated being protected. So why, when it was Vaughn, did the concept seem … nice?

  Pushing that thought aside for later contemplation, Angela attempted an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Vaughn. It really didn’t occur to me that you might actually want to hear about that stuff.”

  Vaughn sighed, adjusted his hold on her, and tugged her into his chest. “It’s not that I want to hear someone’s threatening you,” he explained. “It’s that I care about you, Angela, so I want to know what’s going on in your life. I want to be there when you need me.”

  Oh.

  She hadn’t expected him to say that. That little declaration was completely out of left field. He’d just … said it. And he said it so easily. And, okay, so he hadn’t said that, but what he’d said was pretty darn close. Oh, God. Did she want him to say that?

  She wasn’t sure. Which wasn’t a “no.”

  ****

  “Angie?” Vaughn asked when she’d been quiet a few seconds too long. Shit. He’d said too much. He’d been trying to bite his tongue, and he thought he’d been doing a damned good job. Right up until about thirty seconds ago.

  Angela sucked in a breath—a breath, he noticed, that wasn’t entirely steady—and smiled up at him. Her smile was bright, confusing, and reassuring all at the same time. He couldn’t ask her about it, though, because she followed the smile with a kiss and scattered his thoughts like dust on the breeze. All he could focus on was the taste of her lips and the way they felt against his. She was cheating. And he had no intention of stopping her.

  Then her lips were gone and she smiled softly again as she eased almost completely out of his hold. Slipping her hand into his deliberately, she said, “Let’s go to the park.”

  He felt his expression soften and inclined his head with a grin. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He didn’t have to be at work until after school the next day, and he had no desire to rush home given the drama between his mother and aunt.

  They’d barely gotten close enough to see the park, though, before their path was cut off.

  “Isn’t this cute,” Eric teased as he sauntered up to them. His face had mostly returned to normal, it seemed, over the course of the week it had been since their last altercation. But his wrist was encased in a removable splint, assuring Vaughn that he’d managed to do a little damage during their fight. Little, unfortunately, being the operative word. “I wouldn’t have expected you two morons to wander around my neck of the woods.”

  Angela tensed beside him, her hand squeezing tighter to his. “Your neck of the woods, huh? Glad to know you at least don’t lay claim to Darien.”

  Would’ve been nice to know earlier. Sure, he’d been with her when Angela had spotted Eric in the city once, which had led to the belief that the Matthews were hiding out in the vicinity. But that had been more than two years ago. Everyone had since assumed Eric and his family, what was left of it, left town. It hadn’t occurred to Vaughn that they’d possibly returned to wherever they’d been hiding before, though he didn’t know why. Considering no one knew where it was, that would actually make sense. And it was my bright idea to come to the city for dinner.

  “Why would I?” Eric asked with feigned nonchalance. “I hate that stupid town.”

  “Your loss, then,” Angela said tightly.

  Eric’s eyes narrowed and Vaughn knew their little conversation was nearing its end. “You gonna make a scene right here on the street?” He didn’t think Eric cared about witnesses and bystanders, but it seemed like a necessary point to make.

  Silence held as Eric attempted to stare him down.

  Angela shifted her weight anxiously, her fingers threading his for a better grip.

  Vaughn ground his teeth, meeting Eric’s glare with almost disturbing ease, as he tried to think up the best way for them to escape. One of them, at least, needed to be in good enough condition to drive.

  Eric finally released a nearly inaudible breath, glare fading into an arrogant smirk, and started forward. Angled to walk around them. “Who said anything about making a scene?” He got closer with every second, rapidly putting Vaughn in a very bad position. He could stay as he was, keep himself between Angela and Eric, and risk his own safety in the process. Or he could move and hope that moving wouldn’t endanger Angela. Public sidewalks really weren’t meant for this kind of situation, but at the end of the day, there wasn’t a choice to be made.

  “You shouldn’t be so paranoid, Prescott.” Eric punctuated the statement by flattening one palm over Vaughn’s chest, directly above his heart. He maintained the contact for only a few seconds, but that was more than long enough.

  Fire erupted from Eric’s hand, shooting straight into Vaughn, and he sucked in a breath at the same time as he registered the sound of Angela’s sharp gasp. It occurred to him that his body was probably acting as some sort of conduit and he tugged his hand from hers, hoping to minimize the damage she would take.

  “Vaughn!” Angela cried, her voice oddly distant.

  Eric’s smug chuckles drifted toward him, drawing Vaughn’s attention as he strode away, uninjured hand now tucked in his pocket. But it was too much of an effort to pursue him, so Vaughn settled for glaring daggers into his back.

  Something tugged on Vaughn’s sleeve, near the shoulder, in the opposite direction, and he turned again. The movement made the world spin, and though the burn from the lightning was fading, he could feel the strength fleeing rapidly from his muscles. They needed to get off the street. “Car,” he managed, realizing as he tried to speak that his tongue felt funny. He stumbled as he tugged the keys from his pocket, knowing he wasn’t fit to drive, and handed them over.

  Angela’s eyes met his, wide and worried, and everything beyond her blurred.

  “Vaughn!”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Oh my God…” Angela breathed, her hands hovering over what should have been a terrible, blackened burn. She was positive Eric had poured a deadly blast of electricity into that hit, just from the horrible way her stomach had clenched and twisted. And when Vaughn had passed out on the sidewalk, she’d been equally certain that there just wasn’t enough time to drive all the way home to safety. He surely wouldn’t have survived the trip.

  Somehow, she’d kept her head long enough to snag them a cheap motel room, and thanks to a lot of adrenaline and one Good Samaritan, she’d managed to get Vaughn all the way to the bed. Healing him was the next step, and she’d wanted to see exactly what needed her attention so she could focus her power on the worst of it. His shirt was ruined, anyway, so she didn’t feel too guilty awkwardly tearing it off him, but now she hesitated. She remembered what he’d told her not even a week earlier. How he’d been struck by Eric and hadn’t been hurt as badly as he should have. She’d even witnessed the after-effects of the altercation on Saturday. But she’d never seen what had caused those wounds, and despite what he’d told her, she hadn’t considered that she wouldn’t find something horrifying.

  She should have.

  Vaughn’s chest was largely unmarred—and perfectly sculpted—except for a spot the size of a silver dollar over his heart. It was a brigh
t, furious shade of red, swollen, and looked like it would be particularly tender. There was a faint sheen over the surface of it, like something a metal burn might leave. But that was it. Or at least, that’s all I can see. It was important to remember that part. For all she knew, the internal damage was exponentially worse. That was a chance she couldn’t take.

  Drawing a deep, semi-steadying breath, Angela shifted on the mattress beside him and lowered her hands until she could practically feel the warmth of his skin on her palms. She was distracted by that notion for an instant, forced to remember that she’d had more than a couple of dreams about touching that same chest. In a very different way, under vastly dissimilar circumstances, but the realization still struck her for a moment. A fleeting, stupid moment. Focus, Angela. Heal him now, ogle him later. Probably, she shouldn’t be thinking about ogling at all, but clearly, that was unrealistic.

  She exhaled, summoning her power as the breath fled her lungs. She felt it build up from her chest, warm and soothing, and willed it to flow out through her fingertips.

  “Stop,” Vaughn grunted as a strong hand closed around one wrist, just tight enough to catch her attention.

  Angela jerked back, startled, and her heart leaped into her throat. “Vaughn! You’re awake!” Idiot. Obviously, he’s awake!

  His lips twitched and he loosened his hold on her wrist, letting his arm fall back to his side. “Yeah. Sorry I blacked out on you.”

  Pursing her lips, Angela replied, “Don’t apologize. You took a bolt of lightning to the heart. I’m surprised you’re already awake.”

  “Remember,” Vaughn said as he pushed to a sitting position, “I told you it doesn’t hit me like it should.”

  “I know,” Angela said, scooting back just enough to avoid an awkward collision. “But I didn’t think it’d be this subdued. And what do you think you’re doing? Just because you’re conscious doesn’t mean you should be getting up!”

  “Angie, I’m fine,” Vaughn said gently, offering her a faint, reassuring smile.