Page 78 of American Hellhound

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Why did he keep saying stupid shit? Pulling her in when the urge became too great, pushing her away when his conscience reared its ill-timed head. Revealing the sorts of things he had no right to. Could she guess, he wondered, the sort of effect she had on him?

As he watched her, hoping she wasn’t wise to his pathetic feelings, she glanced down at the toes of her little brown shoes. “Forget it. Whatever.” Her voice was heavy. Flavored with…embarrassment. Shame. Two emotions he understood well, but which Maggie never should have felt. He wanted to put his arms around her again.

“Hey.” He closed the distance between them, close enough to touch. The curled ends of her hair brushed his shirt. “Being a…” He still couldn’t make himself say the V-word. “That’s a good thing.”

She lifted her head, eyes cloudy with emotion. She attempted a smile. “Just not to you. You like your women experienced, right? What does an outlaw want with a virgin idiot, huh?”

He took her face in his hands, careful like she might break, stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Baby, knowing you haven’t been with anyone makes me want youmore, if that’s even possible. I want to eat you alive.”

Her eyes widened.

“But I’m trying to protect you, sweetheart. Why won’t you let me?”

She softened, some of the tension bleeding out of her. “My whole life’s been about protection. I want tolive.”

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Don’t tempt me, okay?”

He felt her breath against his throat as she laughed quietly. “Youkissedme.”

“I know. I’m a bad person.”

~*~

His kitchen was a sad, dimly-lit space, but it seemed a little brighter when they were sitting across the table from one another. He’d poured her a finger of Jack and added half a can of Coke. It didn’t tastegood, but it was more palatable than the straight whiskey he drank, and it warmed her insides pleasantly, calmed her raging nerves. It was getting late, but she didn’t think either of them were sleepy.

“What’s the plan?” Ghost asked.

Maggie took a bracing sip of her drink and let out a deep breath. “I don’t think there is one.”

He reached for the pack of Marlboros and lighter on the table. “You mind?”

She shook her head, eyes going to the practiced movements of his fingers as he lit up a smoke. “I knew I couldn’t stay. And I wouldn’t change leaving. My mom’s not reasonable. I won’t–” She felt her anger spike again. “Maybe it’s childish, or ungrateful, but I won’t be punished for things I didn’t do. That’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” he agreed, exhaling a long plume of smoke.

“But,” she continued, “the fact that I left means I can’t go back. She’ll never forgive me for this.”

“So you’re homeless.”

“More or less. I have an aunt and uncle in Ohio.”

He frowned.

“But I’m in school, and I…” She bit her lip.

“Knoxville’s home,” he said, voice softening. “I never could leave it either.”

Maggie slumped down in her chair, chin cupped in her hand. “I’m not old enough to get my own place. And I don’t have the money besides.”

He studied her a moment, smoke curling off the end of his cigarette. He took a deep, unsteady breath, and she didn’t think the little hitch had anything to do with smoking. “Okay, how ‘bout this? You stay here, and I’ll pay you to help out with Aidan, and we’ll go from there.”

Her stomach – a hard knot since she’d walked into her mom’s kitchen hours ago – finally unclenched. She wanted to kiss him again, but she settled for saying, “That sounds like a plan.”

Eighteen

Then

Ghost didn’t expect to get any sleep on the couch, between his lumpy cushions, the steady drip of the kitchen sink, and his pounding awareness of Maggie down the hall. But he did sleep, because suddenly he was awake, and his senses were flooded with the snap, pop, and delicious scent of bacon. He couldn’t remember the last time there was bacon on his stove. He didn’t even have any in the fridge.