Page 19 of The Wrong Drive-
“It’ll go faster if we work together.” I don’t know why I say it. She seems surprised by any nicety I extend to her, and that makes sense. I’m a scary fucking asshole who shot her and knocked her around.
And I feel guilty as fuck for it right now.
“I need to change that,” I gesture to the bandage on her hand. “It got wet in the shower, and I glued it shut. It needs air to heal.”
“Oh, yeah,” Emersyn shakes her head as she slips past me, her arm brushing mine. “I forgot about it. Let’s just change it after dishes.”
My core heats up at the momentary touch, and my mind conjures up an image of her bare beneath me. My hands tremble as I think about reaching out and brushing her skin again, the warmth of her against me. I forgot how good it could feel, and the more she talks—even if it’s awkward and tense—the more I wonder what her full lips would taste like.
“I can wash if you want to dry?” she offers, her voice unsticking me from my mind. “Or vice versa?”
Everything is a question with her.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her as she grabs the pans from the stove and sets them in the sink. I don’t know why I fight the urge to stare at her so much. It’s probably because I haven’t been around someone in so long, right? She’s giving me a glimpse of what it might’ve been like to have someone…if I was just different.
I shake it off and grab a towel, drying and putting everything away as she washes them. It doesn’t take long before we’re done, and I’m left in the kitchen there with her, handing her the towel so she can dry her hands. Afterwards, she hangs it on the handle of the oven, and then turns to retreat to the living room, where Gunner is camped out on the couch.
“Wait,” I call after her. “I need to take care of your hand.”
“I can just take the band aid off,” she laughs, her voice light. She’s trying so hard not to be a burden, and I almost feel guilty for what I told her earlier. But it’s the truth. I didn’twanther to be here. I still don’treallywant her here, but here she is.
And I want to touch her again.
“I’ll do it.”
Emersyn stills, and I notice the darkened spot on her sweater from the water at the sink. “Okay, fine.” She approaches me, stopping a foot away and extending her injured hand.
Heart pounding in my ears, I take her wrist in my hand and peel back the bandage with the other. She doesn’t wince, and I take in the burned flesh around the closed gash, the sight beckoning me backward. I don’t hear what she says then. All I hear is the click of a magazine and screams lighting up in my ears, exhilaration taking over body. My mouth grows dry, and my gut furls with impending excitement.
I should tell her to run. Run as far and as fast as she can.
I drop her hand as Gunner’s collar jingles, and within seconds, he’s there, pawing at my leg. I blow out a sharp breath, and the desire to play war fades from my mind. Gunner’s whine replaces my mind’s chaos as I stroke the black fur on his head.
“Are you okay?” her voice comes next, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to tell her. No one ever asks me that.
“Yeah, he just needs to go out,” I clear my throat, avoiding her gaze as I lead him toward the back door. The back porch is screened in, and while it’s cold as fuck, duty calls. Gunner has to do his business on artificial turf, but it’s better than nothing. I swing the door open, the sharp winds whipping through the house.
I don’t look back at her as I step outside with my dog. I don’t think she has any idea of the threat looming here. It’s better that she doesn’t. I take a long breath. The way the sharp breeze cuts through my shirt reminds me that I’m still fucking alive, and I close my eyes. Having her here is a good exercise of self-control, and I could use the restraint training. Maybe sheisa challenge.
“Do you want a coat?” Emersyn sticks her head out the door, her nose scrunched up. “It’s freezing out here.”
I shake my head. “No.”
Her green eyes tug at me, and grief of my reality threatens to take hold. She’s got this new way of making me not like being a trigger-happy lunatic. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you should go to bed.” My tone is rough, and borderline condescending. I know I sound like an asshole, but she doesn’t realize I thought of killing her a few minutes ago.
“I’m not really tired.”
I glare at her, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask if you were tired.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, and as the winds howl and snow blows, she disappears back inside. The door closes quietly, and I stay outside with Gunner for a few moments longer,letting him finish. He’d been a gift from my brother when I was discharged…
And I wonder, if even from six feet under, he still thinks the damn dog would fix me.
“If he only knew,” I grunt, my eyes casting out toward the place where all my sins are buried beneath the snow. I zone out for a few beats, and then when my fingers grow numb, I head back inside, taking in the room.
Her bags are gone, and my guess is that she lugged them to my room. The only signs of her are the pair of jeans and women’s hiking shoes by the fire. She missed those. My eyes dart down the hallway as I pass it, making my way to the kitchen. I turn the light off, and let the house fall into darkness aside from the fire—but even that is dying down.
