When they walked into her home and the silence of the place settled over them, he put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need to … talk?”
She shook her head. “I’m just tired, okay?”
Not wanting to press her, he nodded and kissed her on the forehead. “Why don’t you get ready for bed? I’ll be right behind you.”
She made a non-committal hum and padded down the hallway to the bedroom. As her aunt promised, the entire place was sparkling clean and smelled of lemon, carpet cleaner, and wood polish. He wished he’d thought to do some cleaning when he came here to find out more about Dutchy, but—
Wait.
His head swung to the door on the other end of the living room. Her office. And he recalled now Dutchy had been alarmed that the cleaning crew had come in. And how relieved she’d been when Angela mentioned they only worked on the other rooms.
She didn’t want them to see. Didn’t want Angela to see what was in there.
I’m an idiot.
He said he was going to fix her, but the job was far from done. How could it be, when that one thing about her, the part that was most important to her—her talent and creativity—was still broken?
Well, he’d come this far, so he wasn’t going to stop now. He just needed to push her in the right direction again. And he had an idea just how to do that.
Chapter Fourteen
Dutchy couldn’t believe this was her house. She peeked into the kitchen and saw all the trash and takeout containers were gone and the dishes put away. It even smelled clean in here. Thank you, Aunt Angela. But then, it was just like her to do something like this.
While she’d been hesitant at her aunt’s blooming romance with Tim Grimes—and mildly horrified considering how she found out—Angela had assured her she was happy. “I know you think it’s going fast, darling, but at my age, you can’t waste any more time,” she had said with a laugh. “And sometimes, when you know, you just know.” Her words, plus the obvious adoration in the polar bear shifter’s eyes when he looked at her aunt, made Dutchy feel relieved. It was going to be interesting to see this play out.
Indeed, it had been a wonderful evening. At least it was. Until she was reminded again of her current situation.
She clutched at the twinge in her chest. It wasn’t like she could forget about her visual impairment. But these past few months, she had gotten used to it. And when she was with Krieger, she could almost forget it was an issue. He made her feel like everything was right and perfect. Sure, her vixen still acted pissy around him, but for the most part, it stayed quiet and didn’t hurt her anymore. Maybe things would get better from now on, and her fox just needed time.
Heading into the bedroom, she walked over to her closet. All her clothes had been washed and folded neatly inside. Grabbing a pair of pajamas, she headed into the bathroom. Hot shower, finally.
Heavy footsteps from behind made her pause. Her fox, as always, chuffed distastefully at Krieger’s presence, but she ignored it, as she did the crushing disappointment at her ineptitude. Turning her head, she grinned at him. “I’ll need some help soaping up. Wanna join me?”
The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, and from then on and for the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about what happened during dinner.
The next morning, she woke up alone in bed. Huh. The trace scents on the pillow and sheets told her Krieger hadn’t been gone long, though. There were no sounds in the bathroom, so where could he be?
Hauling herself out of bed, she put her robe on and padded out to the kitchen. The coffee maker was full, but no sign of Krieger. Did he get breakfast? He wasn’t in the living room either, and his truck was still outside. Where—
Her enhanced hearing picked up some shuffling sounds. And when she realized where they came from, she paused.
Spinning around, she headed for her office. Despite the bile churning in her stomach, she made herself go in there. Sure enough, Krieger was in there, pinning up her sketches to the wall. The outfits she had ripped off the dress forms had been placed back on them, and seeing them made blood drain from her face. “W-what are you doing?”
He swung his head toward her, his expression turning sheepish. “Didn’t think you’d wake up so early. Wanted to surprise you.”
Her fingers curled into her palms. Despite her throat closing up, she managed to speak. “S-s-surprise?”
“Yeah.” He finished pinning up the drawing behind the second dress form. “Angela didn’t get to clean up in here and—”
“How dare you!” Anger rose in her as her fox hissed and snarled at him. “This is a total invasion of my privacy.” Pain stabbed at her being in this room for the first time in months. And her dresses and the sketches she never wanted to see again were now displayed, mocking her with their mere presence.
“Dutchy?” He gaped at her. “What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter?” She stomped into the room, rage and hurt fueling her. “I didn’t tell you to do … this!” Glancing around, she saw her drafting table had been cleaned up as well, her brushes and pens back in their holders. Her knees weakened as she strode over and saw that the half-finished sketches and scrawls she had crumpled and tossed had been carefully smoothened out. There it was, her failure out in the open on display. Like a bleeding wound.
“Dutchy?” Krieger rushed to her side. “Dutchy, please—” He tried to touch her, but her fox lashed out. “What did I do?”
“What did you do?” Her eyes narrowed at him. “Are you mocking me? Showing me what a failure I am?”
“Jesus, Dutchy, no!” He scrubbed his palm down his face. “No, no! I’m not. I only wanted to show you how proud I am of you. Of how talented you are—”
“Were,” she corrected.
“Stop it,” he said. “You are talented. And I came here to show you. To—”
“Fix me?” she finished. “Is that what this is about? I’m like some broken toy you want to fix?”
“No, I—”
“I’m never going to design again. Can’t you see that? Never.”
His jaw hardened. “Yes, you will. And if you don’t, then it doesn’t make you any less of a person. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
That should have comforted her, but it didn’t. Being in here was a painful reminder of what she once was. And how lacking she was now and how her fox continued to hate him. “You don’t know that.” As he came closer, her vixen opened its mouth and let out an angry bark. “And how can you possibly fix me when you can’t fix yourself?”
That comment hit its mark, and the look of hurt on his face couldn’t have been more evident. But it was like she was riding a rollercoaster, and she had reached the top and couldn’t back down now. Her fox, too, goaded her on. “When are you going to tell me what happened to you back in Kargan?” Had she forgotten about yesterday’s incident? Her fox sure didn’t. It reminded her about how he had lost control when she asked him during breakfast. “I didn’t even know that you were in the army and Damon was your commander. I had to find out from Anna Victoria. Do you know how humiliating that was?”
“It doesn’t matter. None of that matters.”
“None of it matters?” she echoed, her voice rising. “Stop patronizing me and treating me like a child. Are you going to keep things locked up from me and then lash out when I say or do something wrong? Were you even planning on telling me?” His silence said it all. “So, you lied to me when you said we would talk about it! Did you even think—”
“I said it doesn’t matter!” he roared. “Just forget it. I’m past all that. I’ve already changed for you, is that not good enough? Am I not enough now? All I wanted was to be left alone up there, then you come along, and now I’m doing all these things for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to change!” she shot back. “No one asked you to do these things!”
He charged toward her desk, swiping the Vogue magazine off the top. “Is he what you want? Someone who’s handsome and rich and
whole? Why don’t you go back to him then?”
Her rage boiled over. “Fuck you, John, this is not about Ian, and you know it!” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let him see it. Whirling around, she hugged her arms around her stomach. “You … you should go.” She closed her eyes, the tears already tracking down her cheeks. Heavy footsteps thudded out of the office and thundered toward the front hall. The slamming of the door made her jump, and she sobbed into the back of her hand, then sank against the wall.
The tears wouldn’t stop, and she continued to weep, her chest collapsing in on itself and the pain making it hard to breathe. How did they end up like this? Maybe it was inevitable. The rush of desire and the headiness of the sex was like a fog covering up all the underlying issues still between them. He refused to open up about his past. And she was still so afraid that he was going to hurt her.
Yet his words echoed in her mind even now.
It doesn’t make you any less of a person. I’ll take care of you, I promise.
Wiping her tears away, she glanced around the room. He must have woken before her to clean up in here. There was no layer of dust on the surfaces, and the hardwood floor had been swept and polished. All her pens and brushes were back in their holders. He even carefully taped up her torn drawings and put her dresses back on the forms.
It was obvious now he had meant no malice in his actions, just like all the other nice things he did for her, like taking her to Rosie’s and organizing the party with her friends. His intention really was to show her how proud he was of her work. And that he believed her normal vision would return. “Oh God.” She shouldn’t have flown off the handle. I made a mistake.
She rushed out of the office and scurried out the front door, her stomach dropping when only the empty driveway greeted her.
Regret filled her as she remembered her actions and words. I should have been more understanding about his situation. The scars he carried were much deeper than she thought. “I promise, John, we’ll get through this together.”
Heading back inside, she plopped down on the couch. Where could he have gone to? How am I going to contact him? He didn’t own a phone. Would Damon know how to reach him?
The sound of an engine pulling up outside made hope soar in her chest. He’s back! She’d tell him how sorry she was for jumping to the wrong conclusions and kiss him and never let go.
She practically flew to the front door and yanked it open. “John!” She threw her arms out. “I’m so—J.D.?”
“Whoa!” The blonde mechanic started, but stepped forward and hugged Dutchy back anyway. “I’m glad to see you too!” she said with a laugh.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“Came by to drop off your car.” She jerked her thumb back at the familiar Honda in the driveway and dangled her keys in front of her.
“I—oh!” Krieger was probably on his way back to his cabin. She could go after him and apologize. “Thanks for getting that all done. Send me the bill, I’ll take care of it.”
“Nah, on the house. But, say, how did Tim manage to get your keys?”
“Er, long story.” She grabbed her keys from J.D.’s fingers. “I need to go.” Sidestepping around J.D., she zipped toward her car.
“Go? Hey, wait!” J.D. chased her. “Go where? Can you even drive?”
She glanced down at her arm. Ugh, stupid cast. It didn’t hurt, but it probably wasn’t safe to be driving up those mountain roads without the use of both her arms. “Dammit!” Tears sprang into her eyes again.
“Did you—hey! Dutchy?” J.D. touched her arm. “Dutchy, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, J.D.,” she sobbed. “I’ve ruined everything.” And so she told her friend about what had transpired that morning with Krieger. “I’m an asshole, J.D. I shouldn’t have said those things and then kicked him out. He’s got PTSD, and I should have known better.”
J.D. blew out a breath. “Hey, c’mon now.” Fishing out a handkerchief from her pocket, she handed it to Dutchy. “Krieger’s had a hell of a time, and I can’t even begin to imagine what could have happened to him. But I know Damon was in bad shape when he came back, and I had to kick him in the butt a few times to snap him out of it. Even now after he’s met Anna Victoria, he’s still working on his own shit. And remember, you haven’t exactly been in the best place yourself. Cut yourself some slack.”
“I just …” She blew her nose. “I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything, now.”
“What? Are you kidding me? You guys had a little tiff, that’s all.” She enveloped Dutchy in another tight hug and then looked her square in the eyes. “Krieger obviously adores you. He’ll forgive you for anything. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll drive you up there.”
“Y-you will? What about work? Your garage?”
“I’m the boss.” She rolled her eyes. “If I haven’t trained those jackasses how to get stuff done without me by now, then I don’t deserve to be in charge. Besides, they’ll be happy I’m not there to ride their asses today.”
“I … thank you, J.D.”
“Cheer up, buttercup,” J.D. said, beaming at her. “C’mon. Get dressed. We’ll stop for coffee and gas, then head up. It’s gonna be a long drive. Maybe you can tell me that story about Tim and your car.”
Chapter Fifteen
Krieger drove back up to his cabin in what seemed like record time. The truck careened through the mountain roads, hugging the sharp curves. He really didn’t give a shit if he was going too fast. If he were a lesser man, he would have driven right off.
How the fuck had things turned tits up in five minutes? He’d gotten up early, fixed up her office to surprise her, and then she goes all crazy. Women. Who the hell knew what went on in their brains?
As he drove up the dirt road, the engine roared, and the truck’s tires skidded. Must have rained hard. He shifted the truck to all-wheel drive and then continued on until he reached his cabin. He stormed inside and shut the door with a thundering bang. Of course, the first thing that hit his nose in here was the scent of Dutchy and sex.
“Fuck!”
Turning on his heel, he headed out the door and sat on the porch steps, burying his face in his hands.
Her outrage at his invasion into her personal space he could handle. He read her wrong. But why did she go and turn it all around and ask about Kargan? Couldn’t she leave well enough alone? It was all in the past. He was over it. She didn’t need to know. He couldn’t let her know. The ache in his chest grew like a fucking tumor, squeezing around his lungs until he couldn’t breathe.
His bear roared in pain. It, too, felt her anger and rejection. Because that’s what this was, right? Her fox still refused him. And the mating bond would never happen if the vixen didn’t accept him. He didn’t know why he knew that; he just did.
“Krieger?”
His head snapped up so fast the blood rushing to his head made him dizzy. “Chief?” He’d been so caught up in his head that he didn’t even hear Damon approach him. His former commander wore only a pair of jeans, his shirt in one hand, which meant he’d come up here in bear form. “What are you doing here?”
He slipped his shirt on. “My bear hasn’t been in the best mood. Since the news about the cub … it … I mean, we’ve been feeling over protective, and Anna Victoria got sick of the whole thing. Said I was smothering her,” he said sheepishly. “So, she’s having dinner out with Sarah and Darcey tonight after they close up, and I thought I’d let my damned bear out to blow off some steam. Then I saw you were home”—he cocked his head at the truck—“and thought I’d say hello.” His dark brows furrowed together. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
Damon crossed his arms over his chest. “Your face and your bear say otherwise. Where’s Dutchy?”
He couldn’t stop the growl coming from his throat.
“Ah.” Damon stepped closer. “Mate troubles. Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The chief sat down b
eside him. “When you guys disappeared the other night, I thought you’d worked things out. What happened since then?”
He wanted to tell Damon to fuck off and leave him alone so he could wallow in self-pity. But he knew better than to try and shake him off. Goddamn Damon was like a dog with a bone when he set his mind on something. Relentless. Unflagging. It was no wonder he’d risen up the ranks in the army so quickly.
“Fuck. I don’t know.” He raked his hand through his hair and relayed to him what had happened. “And … Goddammit, I don’t know why the hell she wants to know about that shit.” His stomach turned to ice just thinking about the two innocent lives he’d taken.
Damon didn’t say anything for a while, just sat quietly next to him. “Krieg,” he finally began. “Remember what I told you a couple months back? About asking forgiveness of ourselves?”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah. Of course I do.”
Sometimes … sometimes we have to ask forgiveness of ourselves.
“And have you?
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
Krieger huffed. “I know I wasn’t to blame for our guys getting killed. You said it yourself. And I understand, it was war. We had bad intelligence.”
“But what about after? Those two farmers from the village—”
“No!” he roared. “Stop.” They never talked about that.
“Krieger, it’s obvious that’s what’s been hurting you this whole time.”
“I’m better. I’ve changed. Why isn’t that enough?” Why am I not enough for her?
“You can’t just change overnight, Krieg. Even with me, it took a while. It took professional help, six months of therapy. And I’m still not one hundred percent. Recovery … it’s a process, not just a one-and-done thing. Maybe … maybe it’s time you let others handle the burden for you for a bit.”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Like the guys said that night, we want to help you.” A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Since I started coming here, you’ve always let me talk and ramble on. You’ve been watching me—all of us, really—over these past couple of months. And you’ve been trying to make yourself into a better person. It’s a lot to juggle and deal with. So why not let us carry the burden for a bit? Lean on your friends. Lean on me.”
Blackstone Ranger Guardian: Blackstone Rangers Book 5 Page 15
