Page 40 of Coming Undone

He took a deep breath and frowned, almost as if he’d stopped himself from saying something. Then, he crossed his arms and started again.

“You’ve had three years to look into it since these threats have been an ongoing problem. I assumed you would welcome some help since this situation has turned serious.”

Three years? Obviously, he thought she’d been remiss in taking care of herself for quite some time. The hopefulness that had been taking root inside her withered.

It was a good thing she’d had a lifetime to perfect the calm, rational tone she used with her mother when she was upset because she sure needed it to cover her heartache now.

“I prefer to handle my own business,” she articulated clearly even though her heart raced with regret at how quickly things were falling apart. “I worked too hard to recover some independence after what happened to me overseas. I can’t allow anyone else march into my life and say what’s best for me.”

“You’re mad at me for helping you.” It was a statement, not a question, though his tone suggested he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I don’t barrel into your life and take the reins. I don’t try to solve your problems without being asked. In turn, I wouldn’t expect you to do those things with me.”

His eyebrows shot high.

“Well let me be clearer. You can expect that I will protect you if I feel that it is warranted.”

“Why? Because I’m weak? Because you think I can’t take care of myself?” Old frustrations bubbled. He had made this a line in the sand moment when he’d gone behind her back in the middle of the night to act on her behalf without consulting her. “I’m a survivor for a reason, you know, and I’ve confronted worse than a bunch of letter-writing hotheads. So I would appreciate it if you’d let me decide how to address this.”

His jaw tightened. Flexed.

“While you’re deciding, Steph, these threats are increasing.”

“When you sail out of my life again at the end of the month, I’ll be right back to handling things alone. If anyone went to the police, it should have been me.”

“I won’t regret doing whatever I can to keep you safe. Especially because I’ll be on a ship again in a few weeks.”

He didn’t regret undermining her? And in the process hurting her, too?

“Danny, I can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect my independence.”

He shook his head, his jaw dropping.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you want to be like that chick in the horror flick who goes into the dark with nothing but a baseball bat when there’s a psycho in the woods? Come on, Stephanie. We both know you’re a whole lot smarter than that. So is all this a smoke screen from what’s really going on? Is this your way of keeping me at arm’s length?”

Stunned silent, her mouth snapped shut. Did he seriously believe that? What’s more… could there be any truth in it?

“I know you wanted to keep things light,” he continued, clearly pushed past the point of agitation. Now, he was flat-out mad. “And I’ve overstepped that in a big way, haven’t I?”

Still reeling with the shock of the accusation, she wasn’t sure how to respond. But apparently her hesitation spoke volumes to him because he cursed and headed for the door.

“Fine. I’ll make it easy for you then. Once your security is in place, I’ll give you all the space you need.”

The screen door banged behind him and he was out of sight before she even came close to gathering her wits.

It wasn’t until she was all alone that she realized her heart had broken somewhere during the argument. It hurt now more than she would have ever thought possible, a gaping wound that caused her to put her hand on her chest where it ached.

Now, more than ever, she recalled that her first impression of Danny as a laid-back guy was all wrong. What a time to realize she loved the intense military man far more than the rocker that had charmed her at first. She’d figured out he meant everything to her just in time to lose him.

Chapter Thirteen

“Damn it.” Danny barreled into his parents’ house, pissed off and cursing a blue streak.

Thank God his mother wasn’t around.

He banged through a back door on the lower floor, directly into a game room with a bar that was a mostly male domain. His mother had her mom-cave upstairs. But the game room was dominated by a large screen TV on the wall, a pool table and a bar. Already Keith and Jack were engaged in a contest at the foosball table. ESPN blared on the big screen.

“Dude. There’s a lady present.” Keith pointed toward the bar where Jack’s fiancée, Alicia, rose slowly from whatever she’d been doing beneath the counter.

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