Tearing Down Walls (Love Under Construction Series Book 2) (69 page)

Vic had been scrutinizing Miranda, and he’d confirmed something he’d noticed: She tended to wave her arms around when she talked, and she also looked away for emphasis, rolling her eyes to the ceiling or making other gestures with them. A solid plan formed in Vic’s mind.

“Blah, blah, blah. Your whining bores me.” Miranda was doing it again, waving the gun in her right hand and rolling her eyes. The gun she was waving wasn’t the first one he’d seen her with; this one was Laura’s sidearm.

Vic stared at Laura. He looked down at his right hand and wiggled his fingers, and Laura blinked. He rolled his eyes, then looked back at her, and she blinked again. She understood. There was one particular martial arts move he’d been taught with the sjambok and he was pretty sure it would work. And as Miranda blathered on, he noticed something else out the front window.

The tiny little movement he’d seen across the street? It was Peyton. The cavalry had arrived. But Vic couldn’t stall that long. Time was running out.

Vic closed his eyes and tried to fight a smile, and when he opened them, Laura looked calm. She’d seen him glance out the window – she knew.
Hang on, baby,
he willed her.
We’re gonna make it.
Miranda continued on with her tirade.

“Hey, step back a little and let me practice with this, wouldja, honey? My arms are stiff and I’d hate to accidentally hit you,” he told Miranda. When she moved aside, he said, “A little farther. This thing is pretty long.”

“This good enough, stud?” She looked down at her feet.

“Perfect.”
And when I hit you, it won’t be accidental.
He made a tiny little talking motion with his mouth, and Laura started in.

“You know, since you’re going to kill me, maybe I should just tell you what I think.”

“Oh? And what’s that, whore?” Miranda spat.

“You’re calling
me
a whore? That’s rich. You come into a club, fuck a guy you don’t even know, and then kill someone he barely knows just because she’s his friend? You’re psycho, bitch.”

Rage passed over Miranda’s face. “My brother was psycho! I’m not! I’m just practicing survival of the fittest, twat. That’s all.”

“Watch out, I’m going to swing this thing,” Vic interrupted. He started twirling the sjambok over his head just as he’d been taught. Rambling on, Miranda didn’t even take a breath.
Watch, Laura, watch, and give me a signal. Please!
The sjambok continued to twirl, a swishing sound ringing out in the room as its stiff shaft cut the air.

“See, it’s like this.” Miranda popped a knee out and settled her weight on the other hip, her left arm across her waist, her chin pointed upward, and started her smug rambling again. “Survival of the fittest means that if I’m better than you, I win and you lose. In the game of life, I mean. I survive, you don’t. You know, if you were a better survivor, you wouldn’t be here anyway, now would you? But yet here you are, going on and on about . . .”

Laura nodded ever-so-slightly, and Vic knew. As Miranda kept talking, he drew the sjambok around one more time, then spun and lowered the shaft as it came around to the left and across, putting all the force he could muster behind its arc.

He’d lined Miranda up just right. When the sjambok connected with the side of her neck just below her jawline, there was a sound like a tree branch cracking, and she fell and hit the floor, her whole body twitching. Vic held his breath, then came to his senses and kicked the gun away from her hand.

But there was no need. When he reached down to take her pulse, he could tell. With her neck twisted the way it was, it was broken and her trachea was sure to be pinched off. Her heartbeat slowed under his hand, her vacant eyes boring into him. Just like that, it was over.

With a speed that startled Laura, Vic grabbed her and squeezed her to him. “Oh, god, baby! Please tell me you’re okay!”

“Vic, untie me. Please? My hands are numb.” He fumbled with the ropes as Laura waited. When they were undone, she did the one thing her arms had been aching to do – she wrapped them around Vic’s neck and told herself she’d never let go.

Vic leaned her back and took a good look at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes. “Oh, baby! What did she do to you? Precious, I’m so sorry!”

“It looks worse than it is. I’m just bruised and banged up, that’s all. But I’m very dehydrated. I need some water, and it looks like you do too. We’ve got to get out of here.”

From the back of the house, the sound of wood splintering shattered the air just as the front door flew open too, and everything was right again – Peyton and José stood there, weapons up, and looked around the room. “You guys okay?” José asked. Peyton didn’t say anything; he just dropped to his knees beside Laura and pulled her to him.

“Yeah. I think I’ve got a head wound and she’s pretty banged up but, otherwise, I think we’re both okay.”

José went to Miranda’s body. “Wow. You did this with that thing?” he asked, staring at Vic and pointing at the sjambok.

“Yeah. Piece of cake,” Vic whispered.

“Now you see why I thought you were crazy for using that thing at the club?” Peyton started. “What if you’d accidentally . . .”

“Stokes, shut up.” Vic shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about it. You’ll never see it in that club again, and I doubt you’ll see me there either.” He looked down at Laura. “Okay with you?”

“Okay with me.” She kissed him. “Let’s go by the hospital, have ourselves looked at, and then let’s go home.”

José pointed to the door. “We’ll finish up here, call the cops, tell them they can talk to you at the hospital. You two go.” He’d already started taking photos with his phone.

Vic ran to the back door and looked out. Through a crack in the doors of the garage out back, he could see an ever-so-faint hint of copper. “Found my car. Let’s get out of here.”

N
either of them said a word on the ride home. Vic had called Clayton first and asked him to call Tony and Nikki, then called Annabeth. After that, he put his phone away. In the meantime, Laura called Steve and assured him she was all right. Her wounds had all been superficial, she hadn’t had a concussion, and Vic’s head laceration didn’t even need stitches. The police had finished with them at the hospital and sent them on.

When Vic opened the door to the silent house and they both stepped inside, Laura sighed with relief. Home. She was home. She glanced at Vic.

His face was dark. She knew what was bothering him, and it bothered her too, but not in the same way. While she knew he was worried what she’d think of him and how much he was sure his coupling with Miranda had hurt her, the only thing that hurt her was knowing he’d been forced either by Miranda’s body or their circumstances to do something he didn’t want to do, something that shamed him and caused him pain.

All Vic could think about was getting in the shower and washing that bitch off of him. He was scared. What if she’d given him something? At least he didn’t have the pregnancy thing to worry about, but if he made Laura sick because of . . . He couldn’t think about that, just needed to wash her off his body, out of his hair, out of his mind. In little more than a whisper, he told Laura, “I’m going to shower, and I’m sure you want to. We need to talk when we’re done.” He kissed her on the forehead and made his way down the hallway to the bathroom in one of the guest bedrooms.

Laura wanted to go with him, but she was afraid it would make him uncomfortable. The water started and she went to the master bath to start the shower for herself. But when she saw Vic’s body wash, she picked it up, flipped the cap up, and took a sniff. She sprinted down the hallway to the spare bedroom, tore her clothes off, and tiptoed into the bathroom with the bottle.

She could see Vic through the frosted glass shower doors, and when she paused and took a good look, she saw that he wasn’t moving. He stood motionless, head resting against the wall, letting the water run down over him. And he was doing something else.

He was sobbing, silent as he cried, his forehead to the tiled wall. Laura’s heart broke for him. Everything seemed to be coming at him from every direction, all of the garbage from his past, everything that had happened at Cletus and Amanda Wagner’s hands, and he was utterly overwhelmed. She couldn’t imagine that she’d find a way to make it all better, but she wanted to try.

The shower door gave a tiny squeak when she opened it, and Vic turned to see her there, naked and wet, standing in the shower with his body wash. His eyes were red, and he looked so pitiful that Laura had to work to keep from breaking down. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I hated that you had to hear all that, and I wouldn’t blame you if . . .”

Laura put a finger to his lips and smiled. “Shhhh. Don’t. I’m so grateful to you for saving us both that I don’t care, you hear me? It’s just you and me now – always. Let me do this for you, please?”

Before he could argue, she poured a huge dollop of body wash in her hand and spread it across his broad chest, up onto his shoulders, and down onto his stomach. She took the washcloth he’d draped over the shower controls, wet it, and started scrubbing. He leaned against the wall while she washed his front, and then turned and braced himself with his hands on the wall while she washed his back. There was already some shampoo and conditioner in the shower; she laid the washcloth down on the shower floor, flattened it out, and pointed to it. Vic knelt and let her wash his hair, rinse it, and comb conditioner through it, then rinse it again.

Laura was shocked at herself; she’d washed parts of his body she never thought she’d touch, but as she scrubbed the terror away, she saw him relax, his breathing more even. When she was done, he stood and looked down into her face. A tear rolled down his cheek and melded with the water from the showerhead, and his voice broke when he whispered, “I was so afraid.”

“Kiss me. I was afraid too, but it’ll all be okay.” She waited until his lips touched hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. When his arms encircled her waist, she kissed him back deeper, then pulled back and smiled. “Go get us some ice water and a snack apiece while I finish. I’ll meet you back on the bed, okay?”

Without a word, Vic nodded, gave her a peck on the lips, and stepped out. She watched through the glass as he toweled off and walked out of the bathroom naked, no towel, no robe, just skin, that glorious, olive skin. Something between Laura’s legs contracted and she sucked in a sharp breath.

We’re almost there, baby. We’re almost there,
she promised him silently.

Vic was asleep when Laura got out of the shower. When she woke the next morning, the sun was streaming in through the curtains in the bedroom. She and Vic were both still naked with the comforter pulled back, lying on top of the covers, their bodies tangled together like a Chinese jigsaw puzzle. Her finger traced the softness of his lips and his eyes opened.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she whispered, remembering the way he’d wakened her the morning they’d gone shopping at the mall.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered back and planted a soft little kiss on her lips. She giggled. “Chilly?”

“Maybe a little.” Vic got up and pulled the covers back, and she managed to roll and wriggle until she got under them.

He joined her there and pulled her into his arms. “We need to talk.”

“Vic, I don’t . . .”

“No. I’ve got some things I need to say. I have to. Please. Just let me.” He took a deep breath. “I know you could hear everything that was going on down in that basement, and I . . .”

“Stop, please? I know why you did what you did, and I don’t care. I only care that it hurt you, and I know it did.”

Vic nodded. “Yeah. Now I know how you felt when they . . . well, I know how you felt. It was awful. Even when I was in Italy, and all those women . . . It wasn’t like that even then. I could’ve said no. This time, I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I wanted to keep you alive, and I couldn’t because . . .” He stopped and looked away.

“What?”

He wouldn’t look at her – couldn’t. “Because my body responded. I’ve trained it all these years so I could fuck anybody at any time. That all backfired on me. I didn’t want to get hard for her, I didn’t want to come inside her, I didn’t want to . . .”

“Stop!” Vic’s eyes snapped back to Laura’s, and she smiled. “I remember this very smart, very wise man telling me that what my body did wasn’t my fault, that it was wired that way. And your body is too, sweetie. It did what nature programmed it to do. Don’t think about it again. I won’t, I promise.” Her fingers found their way to his cock and danced along its length.

“Don’t.” He looked alarmed. “Please, Laura, don’t do that.”

“I understand. It’s too soon, I know. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks turned pink and she closed her eyes.

“No, baby.” Vic pulled her against him. “I’m just terrified that she might’ve given me something, you know? For awhile there I was afraid she’d get pregnant, and I thought I’d go ahead and just shoot myself before I went through that. But I don’t want to give you something. Besides, you still need to go to the gynecologist.”