Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(90)



“He’s not keeping his mind off it,” he told her with a look of helpless disgust making the scar at the corner of his lip pull tight. “He’s just avoiding the situation entirely.”

“We all grieve in our own way, Boss,” she replied softly, frowning when he winced. “What?”

“You ever gonna call me by my given name again?”

Ever since the day he’d told her he’d never allow her to achieve her dream of becoming an operator, that he’d go so far as to intentionally sabotage her efforts, she’d stopped thinking of him in such personal terms, instead relegating him to a simple position of authority over her professional life.

At least that’s what she’d tried to do.

Some days it worked. Some days it didn’t. The days he took himself up to Lincoln Park usually fell directly into the didn’t category.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, shaking her head, feeling like someone dropped a bowling ball on her stomach.

She just wanted to get the hell away from Black Knights Inc. Away from the piercing pain and the overwhelming grief. Away from all the terrible reminders of what had happened and all the broken dreams of what never would.

A flicker of frustration crossed his beautifully rugged face. “Fine,” he ground out. “Call me whatever the hell you want to call me.”

Would he mind if she called him a complete dill-hole? Because that’s exactly what he was. Two months ago, she would’ve come back with just that. Now, she no longer had the strength or desire to fight with him.

“The fact remains,” he continued, “we can’t afford to lose you for a full month.”

“I haven’t taken a vacation in over two years. I’ve got four weeks coming to me. Like I said, Dan and the others can handle any orders that come in. Plus, this is a good opportunity for our new recruits to start getting their hands dirty. It’ll be good for the Knights to help the new guys come up with some concepts and designs for their own bikes. Maybe it’ll create camaraderie, you know?”

He opened his mouth, and she raised a hand to stop him. “I’m not asking permission. I’m telling you. I’m taking this month. I need a break. There’s a black cloud hanging over this entire operation that’s absolutely suffocating me. I’ll go crazy if I have to spend another hour here, much less another day.”

His hard jaw snapped closed with an audible click, and she watched somewhat detachedly as the muscles in his cheek clenched.

It’s not like he would fire her. Or maybe he would.

Did she even care?

Wow, she honestly didn’t know anymore.

“Where are you going?” he finally asked, eyes sparkling with resigned anger.

“To the Seychelles and then Madagascar,” she told him. “I’ve got a friend who’s doing research for her doctoral thesis there.”

“That’s a long way away.”

“Yepper, and that’s the whole point.”

A long, strained silence stretched between them as he searched her face. The molecules in the air separating them began to vibrate.

Where was that frickin’ knife to cut the tension when a girl needed it?

“You’re not running away from…” he ran a hand over his hair and winced when his injured shoulder popped. She wanted to tell him to get the damned thing fixed already but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He didn’t want to be out of commission for however long it would take to recover from the procedure.

Stubborn, that’s what he was. Stubborn as a mule.

But thankfully, for the next month anyway, that wasn’t going to be her problem. “What I mean to say is,” he continued somewhat hesitantly, “that I’m not the reason you’re running halfway around the world…Am I?”

“I’m not running away from you or anything else,” she assured him, blatantly lying straight to his damnably concerned face. “But I am getting away from everything.”

“But you’re coming back, right?”

She suddenly felt unaccountably exhausted.

“I’m coming back. If I didn’t, who’d pay for my weekly mani and pedi? Plus, you know, a girl’s gotta eat.” She tried to smile but by the look on his face, her effort had fallen flat.

“All right,” he jerkily dipped his chin before gallantly opening the front door. The warm September sun spilled in, momentarily blinding them. She used it as an excuse to slide on her sunglasses, hoping it would help hide the fact that for some inexplicable reason there were tears gathering behind her eyes. “Go take your vacation, Rebecca. Relax. Let the sun bake your troubles away.”

As if it would ever be that easy. But maybe, just maybe, she’d meet a nice native boy who could help mend her broken heart.

Sure, and maybe there’d be snow in the Sahara.

“Do you need a ride to the airport?” he asked, taking the handle of her suitcase and walking with her toward the front gates. “According to Ozzie, that new transmission you installed on the Hummer is smooth as butter, and I figure I better give it a test drive before Steady gets his hands on the thing and screws it up again.”

Becky couldn’t help herself, her eyes darted to the spot where Patti had sprawled on the blacktop, breathing her last. Any vestiges of blood had been thoroughly scrubbed away, but she would always know exactly where that spot was.

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