Second Down (Moving the Chains Book 2) (18 page)

              So many more puzzle pieces about this girl fall into place.

              Memories of Evie cowering from me assault my mind. “Are you afraid of me?”

              Her laugh doesn’t sound remotely genuine. “No. Not anymore. I’ve told you that. It’s the strangest thing that you make me feel safe when I spent so many years fearing anyone with visible muscles. I guess it’s a byproduct of not really remembering my attack. I know you saved me; I can vaguely recall pieces of it, sensory things.”

              “You were afraid of me, though. Before.” I can’t swallow the bile in my throat fast enough.

              “I told you I was.” She continues petting the cats like we haven’t had one hell of a mind-bending conversation.

              “Those two are from the same litter. If you’re considering an adoption, we’d really like to see them stay together.” One of the volunteers gestures to the cats perched in our laps. “The calico is Patch, and the black one is Felix.”

              “Patch and Felix,” Evie murmurs. “Therapists for broken people.”

              “Maybe they can talk to each other when we can’t. They’ll share all our secrets in cat language.”

              “Are you keeping secrets?” she whispers.

             
Too many.

              A familiar obnoxious laugh spurs me into automatic action. I wrap my arm around Evie’s waist, pulling her against me.

              “Don’t you already have a cat at home, Evie?”

              Her glare seethes with hatred. “He died…Eddie.”

              Beside him, Kerri smirks. “We’re all finished up here. Are you sure I can’t interest you in dinner?”

              “No, thanks.” I respond, trying to keep my voice even. “We have other plans.”

              Evie blows out a breath when they walk away without any more nauseating offers. “What plans do we have?”

              “For starters, filling out the paperwork for them. I read on the website there’s a twenty-four hour waiting period after we claim them. We still have to go to the mall and pick out Homecoming clothes. Then, we need to get you back behind the wheel. You never actually drove The Lady last time.” Hopefully, she won’t burn out my clutch tonight.

              “So this is a done deal? We’re adopting Patch and Felix?”

              “Yeah. I guess we are.”

              She fishes her phone out of her purse. “Let’s make it official for the website, then. Say therapy!”

              This has to be the most disturbing selfie I’ve ever seen. Evie looks so tiny at my side, so fragile. My arm around her waist is too big, too capable of harm. I’ve never felt the weight of my strength so much as I do in this moment.

              So many men have hurt this beautiful girl. Me included.

              What if I’m the one to finally break her?

              She’s already broken me.

Chapter 20

Broken

Evie

              “Are you ready to give it another try?” Rob’s warm breath spreads down my neck.

              We’re in the same position as before. I’m sandwiched between his legs in the driver seat. His arms box me in; his hands rest over mine on the wheel and gear shift. He didn’t even bother with explanations this time; simply suggested we try Papou’s way again.

              And just like last time, I’m crazy turned-on.

              I sigh, frustrated with everything. “I guess so.”

              His laughter barrels through me. “That doesn’t make me feel real confident about letting you do this on your own.”

              “I don’t want to do this on my own,” I grumble.

              He wraps his arms around me, nuzzling my hair with his face. “Are we still talking about driving?”

              “I don’t know anymore.” I give up fighting it and melt into him.

              “I know you said the cats will make great therapists, and I really am going to try with the human one too. But…Evie, if you need me to listen, I’m here.”

              Tears prick my eyes, dampening my arousal. My words whisper through the silence of the car. “I don’t know what to say. How am I supposed to talk about what I can’t remember?”

             
And what you won’t tell me.

              “Do you want me to just hold you?” His end of the day stubble scratches against my neck as he slides his cheek along my skin.

              I shake my head violently. He left me so quickly at the animal shelter when the opportunity presented itself. It’s not that I think he has any interest in Kerri. Heck, he doesn’t even seem to realize the interest
she
so clearly has in
him
. It’s just that his constant back and forth treatment of me is exhausting to interpret. One minute, he can’t escape me fast enough. The next, he’s protecting me from Eddie.

              Protection and attraction are two very different things.

              He still hasn’t brought up the fact that we got together the day I was attacked. I’m starting to seriously doubt if he ever will. He’s stepped up his game in public, yeah. He acts a little more like himself at school; doesn’t go out of his way to avoid me. But it’s a far cry from treating me like his girlfriend.

              Even now, we’re only out here because I have to learn how to drive his
stupid
car for the
stupid
scavenger hunt. He’s not holding me because he wants to. He’s holding me because I
stupidly
told him that it makes me feel better.

             
Stupid, stupid, stupid.

              “Evie…can I…can we try something?” His muscles grow taut around me.

              “Sure. Whatever you think will help me not destroy your car.”

              “I’m not talking about that.” He heaves a deep sigh that cuts through me like a knife. “Would you maybe…hold me?”

              I twist around to face him, pretty sure my expression resembles a confused, angry toddler.

              “I don’t want you to forgive me,” he rushes to explain. “And I know…”

              He freezes, his eyes clouding over. “Nevermind. It’s stupid. And selfish. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just…let’s get out, and you can try to drive by yourself.”

              I don’t know how long I blink at him in total confusion. Alex told me that Rob blames himself, but I’ve never heard it so plainly from his own lips. It still doesn’t quite make up for his back and forth behavior toward me, but…

              He shifts to reach for the door handle, so I use the opportunity to quickly turn around and straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. There’s no denying that he’s suffering more than I am. Even if it’s only because I can’t remember what happened. I’ve spent many nights, hiding in my closet, trying to put myself in his position. If I’d witnessed someone brutally assault Rob, I’d probably be a bit of a basket case too. The only difference is that I wouldn’t have been able to save him like he did me. I owe Rob.

              His body is hard and unrelenting beneath me, his muscles twitching. After a few moments of dead silence, he slowly wraps his arms around me. He moves against me as if he’s fighting back outright sobs. I loosen my grip to give him some breathing room. It wasn’t my intention to suffocate him.

              He lifts his gaze to mine. The debilitating sadness in his eyes threatens to drown me. He never speaks, barely breathes before laying his head on my chest like a child seeking comfort from their mother.

              His chest continues to heave; his breath fans over my neck, but slowly those sensations dissipate. He’s the only person who knows what Jackson did to me. He’s the only one who’s seen what’s under my shirt and bra.

              And he’s softly crying on my scarred breasts.

              A legion of fire ants and spiders skitter across my skin, injecting venom into my veins. My heart races faster and faster to compensate for my shallow breaths. As my shirt grows damp, the weight of the silence in the car buries me.

              Rob never makes a sound.

              But my mind is screaming.

             
Fight, breathe, flee…

              I reach for the door handle like a snake striking its prey.

              Rob’s head pops up. “Evie?”

              “I…I have to get out of here,” I stutter.

              Throwing open the door, I scramble out as quickly as my shaking limbs allow. The crisp fall night air cools my blazing skin. I suck in deep gulps of it as I try to pull myself together, but it’s not enough. The slam of the car door propels me to the ground, and I wrap my arms tightly around myself to ward off an ambush.

              “Evie…” Rob’s voice floats to my ears, but is lost in the rush of blood that pounds through my head. “It’s just me. It’s Rob.”

              “I just…I can’t…stand anyone to
see
me…or
touch
me…there.”

              “Okay. That’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone. Just…take your time.”

              It feels like an eternity before the first tear falls. I haven’t cried about this since I tried to scrub my skin of the evidence of Jackson. I don’t
want
to cry now. But I can’t seem to stop it.

              “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what you saw. I’m sorry I hurt you. But he marked me. He ruined me. And I just can’t…I can’t…” My lips are too numb to get the words out coherently. Between my harsh sobbing and my squatted position on the gravel road, my muscles protest.

              “You didn’t hurt me. You’re not ruined.”

              I blink through the moisture in my eyes to see Rob’s tall body crouched down low in front of me.

              “
I’m
sorry. I’ve had my head so far up my own ass that I haven’t been taking care of you.”

              It’s funny how even when I’m freaking out, he can still piss me off. “I don’t want to be
taken care of
.”

              His serious face finally comes into focus. “I know you don’t, but I’m selfish. Just like Jackson.” He takes a deep breath, studying me with intense eyes. The darkness is too thick to make out their current shade.

              “I don’t want to be like him,” Rob whispers into the chilly night. “I don’t want to be like any of them.”

              I can’t stop shaking. I don’t have the energy tonight to fix what I’ve broken.

              Rob reaches a tentative hand toward me. “Can I touch you?”

              I’m so cold. Heat radiates from him, so I nod.

              “I don’t want to be like them,” he repeats with more emphasis. “Let me pick you up.”

              He scoots closer, holding his arms just out of reach, waiting for my reaction.

              I nod again.

              In a heartbeat, I’m off the ground and in his arms. I don’t even remember wrapping my legs around his waist.

              Warm breath puffs against my ear, my cheek. “Let me protect you.”

              “I don’t need protection.”
Usually.

              “Okay. You’re an independent woman. I get it. So, let me ask for
everything
. Let me care what you want.”

             
Tell me. Please, just tell me.

              I burrow my face into his neck; he squeezes me tighter in his arms.

              “Let me let you go if that’s what you need.”

             
No, not that. Anything but that.

              With long strides, he carries me back to his Mustang. It’s awkward, but with his usual athletic grace he folds us both into the driver’s seat, never releasing me from his arms. His head stays upright; we’re cheek to cheek. Equals in this embrace.

              Rob whispers, his voice catching. “Let me be gentle. I promise, I’ll
always
be gentle.”

              As if to prove his point, his hands skim my back with the barest touch. Over and over, in an endlessly soothing pattern of up and down, up and down. A memory of a similar time floats beyond my reach as my eyelids grow heavy.

              Panic attacks are exhausting.

              Rob turns the engine over; reaches to turn on the heat. “I’m not everything you can’t remember, Evie. Not anymore. But, if you want, I’ll try harder to be everything you don’t want to forget.”

Chapter 21

Walk

Rob

              “You feelin’ all right, man?” Alex’s voice competes with the din of lockers slamming shut, “Yeehaw”s, and catcalls.

              Tuesday of Spirit Week is country western day. Half the girls I’ve seen so far are dressed in daisy dukes and wife-beaters that feature more cleavage than is allowed by the dress code at Ironville High. The scent of heavy male arousal swirls with the usual overabundance of cheap cologne and perfume in the hallway.

              I stifle a gag and turn to face my buddy. “Yeah. I’m all right. Why?”

              He gives me a disbelieving grimace. “You didn’t lift like you usually do this morning. And frankly, you look like you have a stick shoved up your ass.”

              Is it that noticeable? These cowboy boots pinch my toes that are accustomed to sneakers. My head sweats under my Stetson, and I feel underdressed in a plain white t-shirt. There was a time not so long ago that showing off my muscles made me feel like a fucking peacock that had finally arrived at his intended destination. Now? It’s something to hide.

              “Are you comfortable right now? These boots are fucking killing my feet. I’m gonna have blisters by the end of the day.”

              Alex cackles, then reaches into his locker for his first block books. “You sound like girl, bitching about her heels.”

              My girl made a similar cackling sound when she found these boots and hat buried in the back of my closet. Then, she interrogated me about how many country concerts I’ve been to, and why I felt the need to dress like I’m from Texas when I attended them.

              I hope she laughs at Mike and Alex today too. Especially since I caved and told her we bought them all together before last summer’s concert circuit.

              “Speaking of girls, what are your plans with Rachel for the Homecoming Dance?”

              I’m way out of my element with this stuff. I’ve never gone to any dances, and I don’t have a fucking clue what the protocol is.

              Alex slams his locker closed and shrugs. “The usual. Pick up Rachel at her house; pose for way too many cheesy pictures; go out to dinner; then hit the dance.” He scans the hallway, raising his eyebrows as two seriously curvy seniors dressed in barely anything saunter past us and giggle.

              I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Even when he has a girlfriend, he can’t not peruse the goods.

              “Oh, shit.” Alex laughs. “I forgot you’ve never been. I’ll catch you up after practice so you know everything to expect and what to do with Evie. We’ll just wait until Mike’s not around to discuss hotel arrangements.”

              “Hotel arrangements?”

              Another loud whistle echoes off the tiled walls and halts my panic attack. “Lookin’ good, Papageorgiou!”

              My gaze zeroes in on Evie, heading this way. I didn’t pick out anything revealing for her to wear, but immediately I see why she’s garnering attention. The floral sundress that she said was too old to wear hits at her mid-thigh and is easily a size too small, hugging her tight runner’s body in all the right places. The boots she claimed were an unused gift from her grandparents give her another two inches in height. Her waist looks smaller, framed by the jean jacket that I found hanging in her closet.

              It’s not that she has everything hanging out for anyone to see. It’s the promise of all she’s hiding. The barest hints of feminine curves and smooth, tan skin are like a carefully wrapped gift that any guy in his right mind would beg to open. It’s not as much fun when something is slapped in your hand without any fanfare.

              I might not be the same guy I used to be, but I still remember how it goes. Guys operate on the simple principle of enjoying the chase. We’re hardwired to pursue and conquer. The hard-to-get girls are worth more effort. Problem is, once the allure of uncovering all her secrets fades, most guys lose interest and move onto the next prey.

              “Holy shit, Rob. What did you do?” In spite of ogling all the free-range boob this morning, Alex understands the call of the hunt.

              A growl from a passing classmate sends Evie’s gaze skittering to the floor, her cheeks flushing bright red.

              Alex punches my arm. “Seriously, man. What did you
do
?”

              “I didn’t know it was gonna be this good!” Fuck me, I should’ve bought her a poncho and been done with it. I also maybe should have listened when she originally protested this outfit.

              It’s not until she’s standing directly in front of me that I realize why she ran that gauntlet just now. She holds out a bottle of my favorite protein shake with another note wrapped around it. “Mornin’, y’all.”

              “Please tell me you’re not going to talk like that all day,” Alex moans.

              Evie scrunches up her nose. “Maybe if I do, people will realize I’m still the same weirdo and leave me alone.”

              Two of my teammates pass by, licking their lips then howling.

              “Or not.” She scowls and flips them the bird, trying to act like her old self. In the next breath, she crosses her arms tightly over her chest.

              I hate that she feels exposed all the time now. I
really
hate that I contributed to that.

“All right, I know you’re gonna tell me I’m a chauvinist, but maybe if you look like marked territory they’ll leave you alone.” I place my Stetson on her head and wince as it falls down past her eyes.

“Christ, Rob. You’d have to piss on her at this point.” Alex moves to stand between her and the constant flow of bodies.

“I don’t even get it,” Evie huffs as she removes the hat. “I’m not dressed in next to nothing like some of the other girls! Maybe I’m just being too sensitive. They’re probably not whistling at me.”

“Hey, unless Blake and Xander have switched to Chase’s team, they’re definitely noticing you, babydoll, as am I.” Alex laughs as he throws an arm over her shoulders.

“I will rip your eyeballs out of their sockets and shove them down your fucking throat,” I growl. Great. Now I’m acting like an animal too.

The thought of guys getting hard over Evie all day pricks sweat on my skin. I can’t stand anyone looking at her or wanting her. If I hear one more thing out of their putrid mouths, I’m either going to puke or deck someone.

“I can’t wear your hat, Rob. It’s about five sizes too big, thanks to your giant head.” Evie stands on her tiptoes to set it back on me, along with a surprise kiss to my cheek. I just had to open my stupid mouth and tell her they’re the male equivalent of flowers, didn’t I?

I don’t want to let on how much this whole situation bothers me. I’m supposed to be doing better; trying harder. “Well, my head is where I keep all my brains, so thanks for noticing how big it is.”

She laughs, but purses her lips together when another whistle erupts.

I don’t even know if that one was directed at her, but I’ve had enough. I hand my protein shake and Calc books to Alex who takes them without batting an eyelash. The note I shove in my pocket; he doesn’t need to see that. In the next breath, she’s in my arms. “Today is gonna be
this
day.”

“Rob,” she hisses even as she throws her arms around my neck. “I’m wearing a dress. Put me down before everyone sees my ass! Then they really won’t leave me alone!”

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I’m keeping everything you’ve got covered and in my arms for the rest of the day.”

A few couples from court have already checked off this item on the list, but I’ve been putting it off. The irony of the fact that I both can’t bear to touch yet crave Evie’s skin against my own isn’t lost on me. I’d just rather avoid dealing with it if at all possible.

Fuck my own hang ups. It’s like Alex and Mike said. Time to man up.

If every guy who dared look at her this morning thought she was on the market because I dumped her, then I’ll give them all the necessary evidence to change their minds.

I glance down to ask her if she still needs to go to her locker. The sight trips my feet, and sends my heart racing. “Evie, keep your eyes open, okay?”

That beautiful blue makes a reappearance, but fills with confusion.

“The last time I had you in my arms like this, and you closed your eyes, I thought they might never open again. So, I’m begging you…just keep your eyes open today, all right?”

Her pretty mouth twists in a frown. “Okay. I will. I promise.”

Dammit. I’m not supposed to be making her feel guilty or worthless anymore.

I press a kiss to her forehead to ease her burden. “Unless you have the urge to snuggle me and feel safe all day. Heck, you could even catch a quick nap between classes.”

I set her down outside her homeroom. Glancing in to find her books already on her desk, I gesture to Mike. He lifts his chin in acknowledgement, and I can tell by the set of his mouth that he gets what I’m silently telling him.

Keep the dogs away.

“I might take you up on that offer,” Evie sighs. “I have to work tonight, and I’m not used to keeping those late hours anymore. Maybe if I stock up on sleep today, I won’t be so tired tomorrow.”

I didn’t think I could feel any sicker this morning, but that was a stupid assumption. “You’re going back to work tonight?”

She nods. “I told you about it last week when I texted you. I like my job. I don’t want him to run me out of it. It’s not like he’ll ever be back.”

He might not, but someone else could be.

Jackson is safely tucked away in prison to await trial. If Evie’s injuries hadn’t been so severe, he might have been set free in the meantime. Apparently, plain sexual assault isn’t enough to get someone thrown in the slammer. No, it takes good, old-fashioned attempted murder for the authorities to deem a person unfit for society. The DA told Dad that Jackson’s level of violence sealed his fate…for now. They’re still relying on my testimony come trial sometime next year. Mom and Dad have already started the process of lawyering me up to prepare me.

Like I’ll ever be prepared.

Thinking about it perks my constant anxiety up a notch, but Evie’s still here, still gazing at me with the strangest expression on her face.

Did she…did she just…? No. Evie’s not that kind of girl. She’s afraid of me, not attracted to me. Not physically, anyway. Especially not now.

“So I can expect a ride to calc, then?” A blush creeps across her cheeks, and she averts her gaze.

Because thoughts of Jackson remind me of everything I don’t want to be, I lean closer. “You can, ma’am.” I tip my hat, fighting for a little levity.

Her eyebrows climb up, but a tiny smile gives her away.

I watch her walk into her classroom and the safety of Mike’s care before turning on my heel to head down the hallway. I’m going to need the next twenty minutes of homeroom to prepare for the rest of the day.