by Cari Quinn
Right. She was. She just wished her good feelings toward him could last maybe five seconds before he did something to make them go away. It was like a Pavlovian response. Momentarily nice Mal meant jerk Mal was about to make his presence known.
Elle turned her phone into her chest to hopefully muffle their conversation. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not dropping you anywhere, especially if it’s some kind of crime scene.”
On one hand, she understood the logic of what he was saying. On the other, he’d turned her down for sex and was now pulling some kind of overbearing trip she did not appreciate.
“I don’t think that’s your decision to make.”
He crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Try me.”
She scowled up at him, wishing she had his drumstick again so she could toss it into his smug face. “You can’t just pick me up and put me places. I’m not a doll.”
“You’ll never convince me to leave you there, so save your breath.”
“I’m a grown woman.” And this argument was utterly unimportant now, when her friend was scared and alone.
She lifted her phone back to her ear. “It’s going to be the two of us,” she said through gritted teeth, deliberately avoiding meeting Mal’s gaze. “It’s actually a good thing, because he bench presses cars in his spare time.”
He might’ve snorted at that, but she couldn’t be sure. Teagan didn’t reply.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. Lock the door, call the police, and wait for us. You hear so much as a fly buzzing, grab something you can use as a weapon and don’t hesitate.”
“Okay. I can do that.” Teagan’s breath rushed over the line. “Please hurry. I mean, be safe, but hurry. Please.”
“We will. Stay on the line. I will too. It might be quiet here and there, or you might hear…things.”
Such as her and Mal squabbling like children. Sometimes their fights led to silence. Most times. But sometimes she pushed his buttons, and he snapped back with the lowest of low blows.
Not this time.
Together, they walked quietly to the parking lot after finding Scooby and Jason to say their goodbyes and exchange cards. Well, Mal took Scooby’s card. Mal didn’t have one, and she certainly didn’t. And they’d performed under fake names besides.
The ride there was equally silent and tense. Mal punched the speed and zipped around cars on residential streets and dodged pedestrians—even a little elderly lady with a shopping cart—as if he were playing some kind of X-box game. His focus never left the road, and his big hand gripped the wheel in a ridiculously hot way that only annoyed her more.
“When did you learn to drive like—watch out!”
He zoomed around a cluster of teenagers who popped out between two parked cars with a dog on leash leading the way. Though it was close, Mal avoided them without breaking a sweat.
She rubbed a hand over her damp cleavage. Her, on the other hand…
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Didn’t realize there was one.”
Story there. Always a story with this dude, and usually one that required forceps to get him to share. “Oh, yeah, there’s one. You rarely drive in California. So what’s all this?”
“Thought your friend’s in trouble.”
“She is, but you’re driving like—”
“Like a capable driver?”
His coldly acidic tone would’ve dissuaded most other people. But she was well-versed in Mal speak.
“You used to race cars, didn’t you?”
Outwardly, he didn’t react. His jaw didn’t even tic, and if anything, he gradually reduced his speed.
Too little, too late.
“Nailed it. Let me guess. Illicit teenage hobby? Street bad boy who got into a little trouble, used his skills behind the wheel to get the babes in bed.” She didn’t know why she was goading him, beyond the fact she was still smarting from being turned down. His dismissal had been nice, all in all—and inexplicable—but it still counted as a rejection. “I bet you had a trusty little clutch of fans. Were there any in particular who revved your engine?”
“Enough.” His voice slashed through the air between them and left it humming.
It was only the wobbly voice that came through the phone turned against her shoulder that even clued her into Teagan’s continued presence on the line. “Ricki?”
Elle lifted her cell to her ear. “You okay? You called the cops on your landline?”
“Not yet.”
At Elle’s sigh, Teagan let out a soft scoff. “What can they do? I have renter’s insurance and—”
“And a police report helps your claim. Not to mention, the person who did this needs to be prosecuted.”
Silence, during which Mal competed for the Indy 500, Growlers’ edition.
“I know who did it,” Teagan whispered. “He’ll be in the wind.”
“In the wind?” Elle frowned. “Have you been watching too much Law & Order again?”
Teagan didn’t laugh. “He’s done it before. He hitchhiked to New York not long before we met. He’s a roamer, a nomad. I thought that was romantic back then.”
“Some romance if the guy’s tearing your place apart. Can’t accept the word no, huh?”
When Teagan didn’t reply, Elle tipped her head back against the seat rest and shut her eyes. Her own raw emotions were spilling out all over, and she needed to be more careful. Teagan wasn’t in the place to hear any of that right now.
“I’m sorry. It’s not any of my business.”
“It’s complicated. He’s so volatile. Takes things so much more deeply than I do. I wanted it to work, but it didn’t, and I’m trying to move on. I thought he was too.” She swallowed audibly. “I don’t want them to find him, Ricki.”
Immediately, all kinds of things sprung to her tongue. She wanted Teagan to feel supported, of course, but wanting to protect a guy with clearly violent tendencies was beyond dangerous—it was another form of suicide. She understood loving the wrong people. She so did. But it was a fine line offering support, and another encouraging harmful behavior.
“We’re almost there,” she said, casting a look at Mal. He was still gripping the wheel and staring straight ahead, no emotion in his face. No emotion anywhere.
What must it be like to be that cold? To turn off anything uncomfortable and just function as if it didn’t exist?
The old her, the more innocent one, would’ve said that was no life at all. But the new version of herself, the one who was so tired of thinking and hurting, would’ve welcomed that escape. She didn’t want to be so…consumed any longer. So easily wounded.
Maybe she was like Teagan’s ex, and one of these days she’d boil over too. Just snap and go crazy.
Or maybe Mal would.
“Okay,” Teagan said in a small voice that wasn’t at all like her usual one. “I’m here waiting.”
“Hanging up now. Be there in under five.”
“K. Love you.”
Elle parroted the words back, wondering if she’d ever uttered them to Teagan before. They’d been close for a long time, but there had been gaps in their friendship where they hadn’t spoken in months or seen each other in years. But an event like Teagan had just endured reminded you not to waste time or take things for granted.
Not just like what Teagan had endured.
Mal pulled up down the block and turned off the car.
Elle shifted toward him on her seat. “Look, I’m—”
“I’m sorry she’s dealing with shit. She can come back with us if she wants. In fact, I’d prefer it. Let that punk ass fuck try something when I’m around.” He clenched his keys in his fist until she imagined they had to be on the verge of opening up welts. “But I’m not leaving you.”
Her chest tightened. So tight she couldn’t draw a full breath. Then she whispered, “Why?”
He faced forward again and drummed his fingers on the lower half of the wheel. “Because you matter.”
She was still trying to figure out if he’d actually spoken or if she’d imagined it when he slammed out of the car and headed up the walk toward Teagan’s place.
She might matter, but he wasn’t going to open her door or even wait for her to climb out of the car. Reason twenty-five he was a giant dick.
Who somehow made her smile in the middle of fear and chaos.
He was already knocking on Teagan’s door, about to muscle it open when Elle met him on the stoop. It swung inward and Teagan appeared, seeming about half her normal size. Normally, she was petite, and now she was a tiny wisp of a girl who’d shrunken into herself. She’d managed to even tame her wild hair.
Elle pushed past him and wrapped her arms around her friend, stroking her hair and rocking with her for a moment while she scanned the hallway behind her.
All she could see was destruction.
“Cops?” Mal asked. “Where are they?”
Teagan braced in Elle’s arms. Elle shifted, tucking Teagan behind her as she faced Mal and his fury. She was finally beginning to understand him enough to get that he wasn’t pissed at Teagan, but the situation. For someone who didn’t know him and his complete lack of manners, he was intimidating as fuck.
“Lower your voice. We’re right here. She hasn’t called them yet.”
“Why the hell not?”
Elle tightened her hold on Teagan. She was about to respond when Teagan did it herself.
“This was done by my ex-boyfriend. I knew I should’ve had the locks changed—”
Elle winced, altering her hold on Teagan so it didn’t pull as much on her injured arm. Stupid sling got in the way all the time. “You didn’t change the locks? Okay,” she said when Teagan flashed her a helpless look.
“I was going to, I just hadn’t done it yet.”
“But you said the door was kicked open, so if he had a key, why would he do that?”
Teagan shrugged. “Making a statement, maybe? I don’t know. I never expected him to do something like this.”
“Has he ever done this before?” Mal demanded.
“This?” Teagan gestured at the wreckage that surrounded them. Broken glassware, knocked over furniture, books ripped off shelves. Even the vintage rug had been pulled up and rolled in on itself as if it too was trying to hide. “No, not like this. Exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
Mal’s voice hadn’t gentled so much as lowered. It held the same amount of steel, but he’d taken down the volume. He’d also backed up enough so he wasn’t looming over Teagan like the Incredible Hulk.
Elle swallowed, rubbing Teagan’s upper arm. He was trying. He’d never be the soul of sensitivity, but he did have a decent guy hidden away in there somewhere.
“He would shake things. Sometimes he’d punch the wall or he’d—” She stopped, glancing quickly at Elle before away.
“Did he hurt you?” Elle questioned quietly, hating that she had to put the question between them. That they couldn’t go back to when she’d suspected something serious had transpired between Teagan and her ex—far beyond the usual spats between lovers—but didn’t have concrete proof.
She didn’t want it. She didn’t want to know her sweet, carefree friend had fallen for a guy who would cause her harm.
Teagan forced a smile though her eyes went bright. “So are you two a thing now?”
“Did he hurt you?” Mal repeated Elle’s question, but with zero rancor. It was as if he hadn’t even heard Teagan’s question.
Elle wished she’d hadn’t. That she could ignore it as easily as he could.
Even while she had her arm around her shaken friend, she couldn’t. And that shamed her too.
“He made mistakes,” Teagan said quietly, bowing her head. “He always said he was sorry.”
For a minute or two, no one spoke. Not even Mal.
Then he took a step forward and cleared his throat. Teagan’s gaze bounced up to meet his and she stiffened in Elle’s hold. Elle flashed Mal a look and he instinctively stepped back, letting out a slow breath. “We need to call the police. Ricki is right. Your claim will go easier if you do the proper reports. And we don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
Teagan’s throat rippled as she swallowed. The faint light from the one small table lamp she’d turned on offered just enough light for Ricki to see the dark gulfs under her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping much.
Ricki understood all too well.
“Okay,” Teagan said after a minute. “Okay.”
“I’ll call for you.” As carefully as if he was reaching for a loaded handgun tucked in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and swiped it to life. “All right?”
Teagan nodded.
Elle couldn’t even have managed that. She was too overwhelmed.
He was being exactly what her friend needed.
Exactly what she needed.
She’d always thought the kind of man for her would be full of poetry and sweetness, as likely to read Keats in his leisure time as he was the sports pages. The sort of man who dispensed compliments like candy and always had manners. A true gentleman in all ways.
Yeah, well, she’d tried being with those men. Ones who pretended to be considerate and courtly and were quick to tell her she was pretty. They were usually the same guys balling a new chick by the end of the month.
And she’d been bored. There had been no excitement there, no unpredictability except to see how they’d try to pull one over on her next.
None of them had been like Mal. Not even close.
His voice was so even and measured as he spoke to 911. He walked into another room, taking the conversation away from them.
Providing a small shield, though it was temporary.
“He’s so…” Teagan’s jaw clicked as she swallowed. “Big.”
Elle snorted and turned toward her friend, smoothing Teagan’s beautiful auburn curls away from her freckled cheek. “Please come home with us.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hearing the snap in her tone, Elle dragged herself back in line. Perhaps she was more like Mal than she gave herself credit for.
And wasn’t that a kick in the ass.
“I can’t just run away. That had to be why he did this. To scare me into taking him back.” Teagan took a deep breath. “If I go hide with you, he’s won. He’s driven me from my home.”
“But what if you’re here next time he comes over to do this?” Elle gestured at the disaster around them then let her arm drop. By this time of day, she ached all over anyway, and she doubted Teagan needed a visual reminder of the hell her ex had wrought. “What if he doesn’t stop with furniture and knick-knacks next time?”
Teagan took a small but definite step back. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re five-feet-nothing and weigh barely one hundred pounds.”
“So what? I’m taking Krav Maga classes. And I have a gun.”
“Look, I get that need for protection. Hell, my brother taught me how to shoot when I was barely a teenager for just that reason. But Christ, Teag.” Elle swallowed hard. “How bad did it get between you?”
Jesus, she had to be an idiot if she was asking that question. The place was trashed and he’d clearly laid hands on Teagan in some capacity. She was taking self-defense classes and had a weapon.
Teagan, the girl who had once collected butterflies and wouldn’t hurt anyone, ever.
“Never mind any of that. It’s not my business. Tell the police what they need to know. I won’t pry. All I’m asking is for you to spend the night with us. One night, then we’ll go from there.”
Not that Elle intended to let Teagan leave. If that meant calling brutish Mal into service as enforcer, she sure as hell would do it. Anything was worth Teagan’s safety.
He’s the overbearing one, huh? Pot, kettle much?
Or maybe they’d just seen too much death lately, and wouldn’t risk losing someone else they cared about. Even if that meant they would piss pe
ople off.
So be it. Better mad than hurt—or worse.
“One night where, in the spare room? On the couch in the living room so I’m far enough away that I can’t hear you fuck?” As Elle reeled back, Teagan held up a hand. “Sorry, out of line. I’m just messed up.”
“We aren’t fucking.” Not for lack of trying on her part, but still.
“Okay.”
“We aren’t,” Elle insisted. “I’m in the spare bedroom, and you could stay with me. There’s enough room for us both. We could have a sleepover, just like the old days. Just like the first days I was here before—”
Before Mal.
Teagan smiled faintly. “When you were here, you were like a zombie. You’re already a little better.” She rubbed at her cheek. “I mean, you were crazy last night, but you always liked to party and I figured you needed to.”
“There’s no partying with him around.”
Teagan surprised her by laughing. “He’s watching over you. Just like he did that night that—”
“Don’t.” Elle took a step away from her friend, as if she could force away the memories of the show just by putting distance between her and Teagan. “You have your stuff you need to box up, and so do I.”
Teagan nodded, quick and hard. “I get it. I’m sorry.” She shut her eyes. “I’m sorry for all of it.”
Elle rubbed at the sudden chill that prickled over her arm. Only the one though. The other seemed to have gone to sleep. “You mean that you’re sorry you won’t come with us. You’re going to stay here no matter what I say or do.”
“I’m sorry,” Teagan said again helplessly as Mal came back out, his mouth set in a hard line.
“They’re on their way. Took some doing to convince them it was an emergency.” He pocketed his phone and glanced between them. “She’s every bit as stubborn as you are, isn’t she?”
Elle didn’t say anything. Because he was right.
There was being independent and there was being needlessly reckless. She’d crossed the line from one into the other far too many times. Now she had to stand back and watch Teagan do the same.
“Okay then.” Mal crossed his arms. “Guess we’re bunking down here.”
“What?” Teagan and Elle asked simultaneously.
“You won’t come with us, we’ll stay here.” He scraped a hand over the back of his head. “Since I’ve seen the size of the beds in this joint, I’ll take the floor.”
