Page 55 of False Start

“Why not?”

“You damn well know why not.” I growled. There’s no way she didn’t know.

And the fact that she did made it damn near impossible to look her in the eye at times.

“You didn’t do it,” she said quietly. “What they say about you. You didn’t do it.”

The calm confidence of her words only fueled a dormant rage, now burgeoning inside me again since waking up the minute I rolled into Galloway Bay. I wouldn’t stand here while she looked at me with softness, caring, the hushed tone of her voice reverent, like I was some kind of hero.

Not when all I had was a legacy of mistakes that brought others pain.

I tugged her against me. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I did or didn’t do,” I said, seething with the fine edge of anguish cutting through me. “What I’ve cost the people I love.”

My gaze dropped to her full pink lips and I closed my eyes. Her mouth wasn’t mine to taste, should never be mine to taste, and if I took, it would only prove what a selfish bastard I really was. “You’d do good to trust your instincts about me, Mayhem.”

She turned her face up to mine. Unflinching, she stared me straight in the eye without so much as a blink. Full of stubbornness and ready for confrontation, she took me head-on. “The funny thing is, I do,” she said with quiet finality. “I know who I saw on that rink today. That wasn’t a man who’d put an underage girl at risk just to win.”

Her eyes dropped to my mouth and I fought the urge to waver. I hung my head and turned away from her, away from temptation.

How many more times would I scour my soul and find scraps of shredded honor before I ran out completely?

“You didn’t do it. I don’t know why you don’t shout it from the damn rooftops. I don’t know why you didn’t defend yourself, maybe it’s time to—”

I pierced her with a scowl. “Leave it alone,” I bit out the words in harsh warning. Fury pounded in time with the ripple of my beating heart.

“If that’s really what you want, I won’t speak of it again…if you train us.”

I dragged a hand down my face. She shivered even with my jacket around her; meanwhile, I was all but positive steam billowed off my shoulders.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Which way?” I asked, the first stirrings that I might waver trying to take hold.

She yanked away from me and hopped onto the threshold of the door leading to the small second-floor apartment over Banked Track. “There. You walked me home. Happy?”

“Hardly. Now go inside.”

She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe like she planned to settle in for a while. “Train us.”

“No.”

“I won’t leave you alone until you agree.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, doing anything I could to keep myself from reaching for her. I still didn’t know if I put my hands on her if I’d throttle her or kiss her. I was equally worried about both. “You haven’t left me alone for a single second since I saw you on that track a week ago.”

“I need you to train us. Please,” she said, the plea in her voice softer, more desperate.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My sister always dreamed of living here. Raising her family at the farm. If this goes bad, they pay the price.”

“What if it doesn’t go bad? Did you ever think about that?”

“It always goes bad. If you knew me, you’d know that. But you don’t know me, Mayhem. One afternoon at a roller rink doesn’t change that.”

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