Читать книгу Last Chance Hero - Melinda Di Lorenzo - Страница 12
ОглавлениеAt first, Jordynn thought she was dreaming.
After all, that’s where she always saw him. Where her subconscious reigned, and the decades-old heartbreak couldn’t quite be buried.
She inhaled deeply, trying to orient herself. Instead, she got a whiff of something sharply sweet, and recognized it right away as coming from the not-so-secret stash of brandy her mom had always kept in the cabinet beside the TV. Immediately, her eyes flew open. And that distinct, familiar gaze met hers.
Donovan Grady’s hazel eyes.
The ones she’d seen just before all the blood rushed to her head and she fainted.
And Jordynn didn’t just think she was dreaming. She knew it.
But if you’re dreaming...then how come you saw his eyes before you passed out?
Panic hit her. She attempted to sit up, but only made it as far as an elbow before her head swam again. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a warm hand—Donovan’s hand—slipped to the back of her neck and eased her down again. His touch lingered. She let it. She wanted so badly for it to be real. Tears pricked at her lids.
“Look at me.” Donovan’s voice.
Her heart thundered in her chest. And she refused to obey. She wouldn’t look. She wouldn’t open her eyes and find him there. She wouldn’t see his ghost. If she stayed still for long enough, the dream would fade and so would the sadness.
“C’mon,” he said.
“No,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. Please.”
In spite of her desire to keep them shut, his pleading tone made her open them. Though her vision blurred, she still had a decent view of the big man in front of her. He sat beside her on a chair, his knees brushing the edge of the couch where she was lying down. He held the brandy decanter in his hands, the crystal cap off.
Relief flooded through Jordynn. She wasn’t dreaming. But clearly, her mind had mixed up past and present. Taking the scent of her mother’s favorite poison and mixing it with the unusual presence of a man in her house, and sending her back ten years. Because Donovan was a skinny kid in too-baggy pants. He had an easy smile and no rough edges. This man was huge, and he wore fitted jeans and a white T-shirt, stained with dirt and what looked like blood.
“Jordynn?”
She blinked, and the dulled edges of him came into focus. He’d taken off his hat and his sandy hair sat matted to his head in a tangle she knew well. A mess she’d run her hands through a thousand times. She blinked a second time. He didn’t disappear. His hazel eyes—framed by thick, familiar lashes—were tinged with concern, their corners crinkled up. She’d stared into them enough times to be able to pinpoint each fleck. To know what they looked like sad, happy, scared...all of it.
Impossible.
She squished backward onto the overstuffed arm of the couch as an enormous, terrified lump filled her throat.
“Dono.” His name was barely more than a choked sob.
“Yes.”
“You’re dead.”
“I can explain, honey. But I’ll need more time than we’ve got right this second.”
Jordynn blinked, watching his mouth work as he continued to talk, but not hearing a word. He could explain? How? She’d attended his funeral. Comforted his grieving father. Lost herself in a year-long despair she never thought she’d crawl out of. She’d blamed herself for what happened. Blamed himself for his death. No explanation could erase that, or the accompanying dark moments. The pain and loss were too great.
But somehow that didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out. From having an incredible need to run her fingers along that stubble on his face. To touch him, just to make sure—really sure—he was there.
Oh, God.
She tightened her hands into fists, steadying herself to stop from actually following through on the desire.
His hand landed on her shoulder, and when she flinched, he drew it away again quickly, hurt touching his eyes before he covered it again in an impassive mask.
“Hey. Did you hear me?” he asked gently.
She shook her head. “No.”
“I said it’s not safe for us to stay here much longer.”
“Safe?”
“Not safe,” he corrected.
“So...what?” She blinked again. “You want me to go somewhere else?”
“I need us to go somewhere else.”
“I can’t go anywhere with you, Dono.” This time, saying his name hurt.
“If you come with me, I can give you at least a bit of an explanation,” he told her again.
“You already said that.”
“I know.”
“I’m not—” She paused, took a breath, tried again. “I won’t leave this—” God, why can’t I just complete a sentence? Why does it all seem so inadequate? “No. Not with—No.”
He leaned back, looking frustrated. And something else, too. Maybe a bit disappointed. Or even surprised. Had he thought that after ten years away, she’d jump into his arms? Be so relieved he was alive she’d forget the rest?
Are you relieved?
She bit her lip and told herself it was an awful thing to wonder. And she wasn’t even going to answer the silent, self-directed question.
He leaned forward again, his face tense now. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I saw another way. I wouldn’t even have...”
Even though he trailed off, Jordynn heard what came next. If he’d seen another way, he wouldn’t have come back at all. And it took away a tiny bit of her guilt, making it a little easier to focus on the here and now rather than the past. Easier to find the words and string them together.
“I can’t even begin to guess what happened to you,” she said. “Or why you would let everyone who loved you think you were dead. But you have to know that you can’t expect to walk in here and tell me I’m not safe and think I’ll just go with you.”
Donovan lifted his hand to tug on his ear. A heart-wrenching gesture—a habit that meant he was truly worried—that Jordynn had all but forgotten about it. It made her wonder what else she’d forgotten about. How many memories had faded away with the years? How many of them had she deliberately buried? It hurt to think about it. Like a freshly closed wound threatening to open all over again.
This was just too hard.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You have to, honey. Trust me when I say this wasn’t a random attack.”
“Trust you?” The concept seemed utterly foreign.
“Just in this. Please.” There was a note of desperation in his voice. “That man over there? He has some friends waiting for him, and I have no idea how long it’s gonna be before they show up.”
Her blood went cold. “Over where?”
He nodded his head toward a space behind him, and Jordynn forced her eyes away from his face. On the other side of the room, bound to one of her mother’s antique dining chairs with some kind of wire, sat the birdlike man from outside. Somehow, she’d almost put him out of her mind. Now the sight of him made her stomach roil, both because of his attack and because of his appearance. The man’s head hung to one side, a mottled bruise already fanning out along his jaw. He’d been gagged. Far more efficiently than Jordynn herself had been, she noted. A strip of sheeting had been wound around his mouth—multiple times—and knotted securely behind one ear.
Jordynn swallowed. “Did you do that?”
Donovan nodded shortly. “Yes.”
“Is he...?”
“He’s alive.”
“So...you’re just going to leave him there?”
“I couldn’t exactly leave him in the front yard.”
“Who is he?”
“The less you know, the better.”
She met his gaze, noting the resignation there.
Resignation, she thought. But no regret.
Not for the man tied up, anyway. It made her heart ache even more than it already did. The Donovan she knew was protective, but loving. A little hotheaded and maybe even impetuous, but always compassionate and kind. Reverent of life. Maybe that had all changed when he’d feigned the end of his own. Which was what he must’ve done, she surmised.
“He would’ve killed you, Jordynn,” he stated then, far too matter-of-factly.
She suppressed a shiver, because now she wasn’t wondering what she’d forgotten—she was wondering what she’d missed. What parts of him had been irrevocably altered, and how he’d become this larger, darker version of himself.
Abruptly, like he couldn’t take her scrutiny, he stood and began to pace the room.
“You should pack a bag,” he said. “Clothes. Toothbrush. That kinda stuff. Enough for a few days, maybe longer. We can always figure out exactly what needs to be done when we get where we’re going.”
“I have a simpler solution.”
Donovan paused, tugged his ear again and shook his head. “No.”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“The police aren’t an option.”
She ignored the way it felt so normal to have him practically read her thoughts. “But your dad—”
“Was the chief when he died, I know. But he thought I was dead, just like you did. All his friends on the force think it. And it needs to stay that way.”
“And if I say no?” She asked the question so softly that he didn’t seem to hear it.
“Have you got a car? Or access to one? I had to leave mine behind.”
Jordynn cleared her throat and repeated her question, this time more firmly. “What if I refuse to go with you?”
His brows knit together. “I’ll make you come with me, Jordynn, if I have to.”
A spark of anger flickered. “You’ll make me come with you? Just like you made me believe you were gone?”
“I’ll do whatever I have to, to protect you.”
The spark flamed, and Jordynn pushed herself to a sitting position, ignoring the accompanying light-headedness. She wasn’t just mad—she was furious.
She opened her mouth, poised to tell him what he could do with his protection, but her phone buzzed from the coffee table, momentarily distracting her.
“Do not answer that,” Dono warned.
“Just try and stop me.”
They dived for the phone at the same time. And even though Jordynn was still woozy, she was determined. She went low, sliding under the edge of the table instead of over it. Dono, on the other hand, smashed straight into the wood, his big body landing on it hard. The wood creaked, then shuddered. Jordynn gasped. She guessed what was about to happen with only a second to spare, and she dug her feet into the area rug and dragged herself out the way, just as the table collapsed.
The still-ringing phone flew sideways, then skidded from the carpet to the laminate, its LifeProof case making a rubbery thump as it came to a halt.
Jordynn’s eyes moved back to Dono. He groaned, then rolled to his back. Jordynn took advantage of his stunned state of mind. She crawled over the floor, snapped up the cell phone, then lifted it to look at the caller ID.
Boss-Man Reed.
Thank God.
“Hello,” she gasped into the phone.
But Donovan had recovered. His hand closed over top of hers, his wide fingers snapping the hang-up button before she could stop him.
“Hey!”
“I told you not to answer that.” His voice was dark. “Who was it?”
Jordynn stared up at him. He sounded worried. But something else, too. Jealous, maybe? He had no right to either feeling. For some reason, that didn’t stop her from stumbling to answer quickly.
“It was just my boss.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Dono reminded her. “Does your boss always call you then?”
Warmth crept up her cheeks. “No. It’s not like...that. He’s like family. He probably knows I worked late and wants to make sure I’m okay.”
He stared at her like he was assessing the truth of her statement. Then her phone rang again, and his intense gaze moved to the screen instead.
“Reed?” He frowned. “Sasha’s uncle?”
“Yes. He’s my boss.”
Dono tapped then phone on his thigh, then held it out. “Tell him you’re fine.”
Jordynn snatched the slim device away irritably and hit the answer button. “Sorry, Reed.”
Her boss’s familiar, gentle voice came through immediately. “Jo. Everything okay? Heard you pulled a double?”
Briefly, she considered telling him the truth. Or at least a portion of it. But if Dono was telling even the partial truth... She wouldn’t risk her boss’s life.
“Yes to both,” she said. “I’m home now, though. Hoping to get some extra sleep tonight.”
“Exactly what I needed to hear.”
Jordynn let out a silent breath. “Bye, Reed.”
“Night, sweetie.”
She clicked the phone off, then turned toward Dono, steeling herself. But it was impossible to prepare for the force of those hazel eyes. They made her ache.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now we should go.”
She inhaled. “You don’t get to do this. You were dead, Dono. And now you’re just a stranger.”
“I can’t just run out of here. No matter how badly you might want me to.”
“You did it once before.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
His eyes filled with pain, and he turned away. Like he wanted to hide it, but couldn’t. Or like he couldn’t find an answer she’d want to hear.
Well, damn him. And damn his pain, too.
Jordynn stood up. And started to move. Quickly.
* * *
Donovan realized about a second too late what her intention was.
Crap.
Before he could blink, she was three quarters of the way across the sunken living room, the slim white phone still in her hands.
Double crap.
And by the time he actually reacted to what was happening, she had already reached the stairs that led up to the second floor.
“Jordynn!”
She ignored him and darted up the stairs.
He snarled a curse, then dashed after her. He got to the top step just as she reached the last door at the end of the hall. She shot him a triumphant look as she slammed it, then clicked the lock.
Crap on toast.
“Jordynn!” he yelled a second time.
He shook the handle. Nothing. He shook harder. It didn’t budge. On the other side, he could hear the sound of furniture moving around. He had no problem picturing what she was doing. The big white dresser would be too big to move. The nightstand, though, wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe she’d position the desk chair under the knob. Or take the narrow bookcase from inside her closet and drag it over to cover the whole hinge-side of the door. In minutes, she’d be barricaded in. She’d dial 911. Or maybe the direct line to his dad’s old office. They’d both be exposed. Both be at risk.
Donovan stepped back, ran a hand over his hair, gave his ear a solid tug and stared at the closed door. Then smiled.
Hurriedly, he slipped into the den. He tiptoed over the floor, then eased open the closet door. He pushed his way through the spare coats, then ran his hand over the far wall until his fingers found the metal latch hidden there. He lifted it, letting himself into the cheater bathroom it shared with her bedroom. He slipped past the tub and toilet, then through the door on the other side. He stopped at the foot of her bed, watching as she did just as he’d pictured, and reinforced the door with the wood chair. When she’d set it firmly under the knob to her satisfaction, she stood back and gave her handiwork a nod.
Donovan stepped closer, near enough to touch her, and spoke in a low voice. “It looks good. But I still see a bit of a problem with the security of it, don’t you?”
She spun, then jumped back, knocking over the chair and smacking into the door. “How did you get in here?”
“C’mon, Jordynn. The layout of the house hasn’t changed. I came in through the bathroom.”
Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the closet. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“And...now what?”
“Nothing. As long as you give me the phone.”
He saw her hand tighten on the device. Then she slipped it behind her back.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
A surprising blush—delicate and lacy—crept up her face. “Did you think I’d just hand it over?”
“Well. I don’t remember you being particularly unreasonable.” He closed the gap between them in three easy steps.
“A lot can happen in ten years.”
He ignored the sting brought on by the comment. “The phone. Please.”
“No.”
“Giving it to me before the guy downstairs wakes up would be ideal.”
“Calling the police before he wakes up would be even better,” she retorted.
With a sigh, he reached around her to take it. She moved to sidestep the grab, but Donovan was quicker. He slammed his arms up to the wall, blocking her in.
“The phone,” he said again.
“The police.”
“Not happening.”
“If you think I’m going to keep your secret, you’ve got another think coming.”
“If you don’t keep it, everyone I’ve ever cared about—everyone you currently care about—will be in danger.”
“Let me guess. You want me to trust you about that, too.”
“Yes.”
She lifted her face and met his gaze with a challenging glare. “Is that your plan, then? Return from the dead, save my life, then just assume I’ll fall into place?”
“My plan is to get you out of here before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what, specifically?”
“Too late for us to get away from the guys who know now that I’m not dead. Who know you’re the only reason I’d expose myself. Jordynn. Give me the damned phone.” Donovan slid one of his hands to her back and found her wrist, intent on just taking the phone. But at the contact, a responding zap of heat slid to his palm. It flowed through his forearm and up again, settling in his chest. It expanded out, searing his heart and drawing full attention to how close together they stood. Just inches apart, in fact.
Donovan’s fingers were on the phone, its cool exterior a sharp contrast to the warmth everywhere else. But he couldn’t actually make himself take it. He couldn’t even move. A decade apart, and still her touch set him on fire.
He could tell she wasn’t immune to him, either. Her chest rose and fell a little quicker, and she sucked in the side of her mouth. Each a telltale sign Donovan knew well.
“How’s it working out for you?” she whispered.
He swallowed, unable to remember what they’d been talking about. “How’s what working out for me?”
“That plan of yours.”
“I’ve spent the last ten years without you, honey,” he said thickly. “Things have been hell for that long. So from here, things are looking pretty damned good.”
“What about it seems good? I’m not exactly cooperating with what you want to accomplish.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t bite on the wicked line she was trying to feed him. She’d always been excellent at baiting him into an argument. Trounced him every time. So he just stared down at her face, and the longer he looked, the more every detail of it seemed important.
Her wide eyes, pupils expanded enough that they nearly blocked out the blue.
The blush, which had expanded even more, covering her cheeks and throat completely.
Her lips. Firm, and just the tiniest bit damp.
The tiny scar on her left eyebrow, new since the last time he saw her.
The last thing prompted Donovan to move. He lifted his other hand from the wall and reached out to touch the small indent. He ran his fingers over the mark, disliking it intensely. Not because it marred the dark red curve of her brow, but because he hadn’t been there to witness whatever caused it. Hadn’t been there to stop it.
“What happened here?” he asked.
“Why?” she breathed. “Does it bother you?”
“Only knowing that it probably hurt you.”
“It did.”
“Badly?”
“At first. But all wounds heal eventually.”
Donovan flinched. He knew without asking that her comment was really a dig. A metaphor.
But maybe it’s an opening, too.
“Do they all heal?” he asked.
He dragged his finger from the scar to her cheek, almost—but not quite—cupping it. He hated himself for wanting her to say yes—for wanting her to be willing to overlook the heartbreak he’d caused.
She didn’t resist the intimate touch as she answered. “If they don’t kill you. Definitely. The human body is resilient. But wounds leave scars, too. Like that one up there.”
“A reminder?” he asked.
“Or a warning to be more careful the next time.”
“Jordynn...”
His thumb slipped to her mouth. For a second, her eyes closed and her lips dropped open. Then she inhaled and leaned back, out of reach.
“Do you really want to know how I got the scar?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I went on a date.”
Donovan was sure she’d said it to deliberately deflect the rising temperature between them. Or maybe just to hurt him. He wished he didn’t understand why she did it. The awareness acted like a bucket of icy water, dousing the desire that raged through him. Still. He had to pretend he didn’t care—because really, it wasn’t his right to care—as she met his eyes, clearly looking for a reaction.
He fought an urge to just slip his fingers between hers and pry the phone from her grip, thereby ending the conversation completely. Instead, he inhaled, then let the breath out carefully.
“A date?”
“Yes. The first one after you’d—After you were gone. You remember my friend Sasha?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Almost a year had gone by, and she thought it was time for me to start moving on. So she set me up with a friend of her cousin’s. The guy was just here on a visit. Short-term commitment, Sasha told me. No pressure, because he’d be gone in a week.”
Donovan pictured it. Pushy, logical Sasha, presenting a date as a reasonable argument. Jordynn unable to find a loophole to get her out of going.
“So you agreed,” he said softly.
“I did. He took me bowling. Then out for dinner. He was nice. Good-looking, too. And I was trying hard not to have fun. Searching for a reason not to like him. I couldn’t find one. At the end of the date, I realized I was being silly about the whole thing. There was no reason not to enjoy myself. So I decided to take a leap and have a good time. I let myself relax and laugh and eat a stupid dessert. When it was over, I was actually a bit sad. And relieved when—while we were sitting at the end of my driveway, in his car—he asked me out again. I said yes. And he kissed me, Dono. And it was fine. No fireworks or insanity like with you. But fine.” She paused to shrug. “Until a big black truck took a wrong turn and rear-ended us. Totaled the guy’s car. Smashed my head into the dashboard and split it open.”
A furious range of emotions tumbled through Donovan. Jealousy and self-loathing. Fierce regret and protectiveness. He reached up to stroke the scar again, but she shook her head, stopping him from succeeding.
“The worse part,” she said, “wasn’t that I took it as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to be having a good time, even though that’s what my mind had already concluded. Or that I was being punished for enjoying the date, even though I thought I was. It was knowing, at that moment, that I’d never be whole again. That some part of me would always tie everything back to the fact that you were dead.”
Donovan’s chest squeezed, so tight it hurt.
I’m sorry for the way I left you, he thought. Sorry for everything.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to find something adequate to say. Nothing would seem like enough.
Jordynn spoke first anyway. “We’re too late.”
Donovan hissed in a breath that made his lungs burn. He started to answer, then realized her statement wasn’t actually directed at him. Instead, her attention was focused behind him.
He swiveled to follow her gaze. The bedroom window had lit up with the distinct yellow glow of a vehicle’s headlights. Then they winked out, and the muted sound of one car door slamming, then another, carried up from outside.
Donovan turned back to Jordynn. “All right, honey. No more time for arguing.”
Phone forgotten, he slid his hands to her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall, then moved to pull back the furniture she’d stacked there. But before he could even come close to lifting the nightstand, an angry yell from below announced the intruders had already made their way into the house.
