Rock Chick Redemption (Rock Chick #3)(41)

I’m not sure your feelings count about now,” I told him, sounding so uppity I was borderline bitchy.

His body got as tense as mine, I felt it like a warning.

Then, his mouth came to my ear. “I feel the wraps,” he said, his hand running gently along my ribs. “And I know the way Vance found you. I’m sorry you went through that, Sunshine.”

I didn’t answer and waited. I expected he wasn’t done.

I wasn’t wrong.

“But, I came home from a run the morning after the best date I’d ever had, a date with a girl who talked about pigs wearing toupees, who could quote Springsteen lyrics, who whispered to horses and who grew up in Indiana and was scared of cornfields. I came home thinkin’ that I was gonna make love to that girl, shower with her, get her breakfast, get her to trust me and final y, start to get to know her better.

Instead, I found my house a disaster, what I could only assume was her blood on the wal in my bedroom and she was gone.”

Dear God. How’d my blood get on the wal ?

He must have been out of his mind. Uncle Tex must have been out of his mind.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath.

“Was that your blood?” he asked.

I let out my breath. “Wel , I tried, but unfortunately, I was the only one who ended up bleeding.”

I should have stayed silent or, possibly, I shouldn’t have been flippant. For one reason or the other, the air in the room changed so much I found it hard to breathe and it had nothing to do with his arm tightening around my ribs.

“Hank, my ribs,” I whispered.

Instantly, his arm loosened and his mouth went away from my ear. I waited while he got control. The air changed back to normal and he spoke again.

“I guess I’m sayin’ that my feelings do count about now,” he finished.

“I’m sorry. I’l pay for any damage or cleaning of your house,” I said.

He ignored my total y stupid comment.

“You told me you weren’t in danger.”

Shit.

I had said that.

“I wouldn’t have left you alone if I’d known you were in danger,” he went on.

Good God, he thought it was his fault.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hank. I didn’t think I was in danger,” I told him.

And it was true, I didn’t think I was.

I thought Bil y loved me. He was crazy and possessive, not to mention crazy possessive, but I never thought he’d even hit me, much less beat me up and threaten to rape me on another man’s bed. I never thought he’d drag me across country, on the run from what had to be bad guys and put me in even worse danger from them than I had from him.

How lucky was I that they didn’t take me with them or shoot me on the spot?

How f**king lucky was I that they left me cuffed to a sink?

I never thought, growing up with dreams of being a corporate goddess with two closets ful of clothes and another one dedicated to shoes, that I’d end up like this.

My tense body started shaking.

“Oh shit,” I said.

He felt it coming and he turned me. I resisted but he did it anyway.

“Shit,” I repeated as it came over me. “Shit, shit, shit.” I was face-to-face with him and both Hank’s arms went round me as the tears arrived; great, wracking sobs.

Dammit, I hated when I cried. I was so f**king weak.

And anyway, crying hurt my ribs.

I put my hands over my face and, pain or not, had no choice but to let loose.

“I’m so s-s-stupid,” I stammered, between crying hiccoughs, taking my hands away from my face. “Bil y scared me, what with the sledgehammer and al , but I was so stupid. I thought I could play games.”

“Sledgehammer?” Hank asked but I ignored him.

“I thought I was smarter than him. Uncle Tex said my plan would go south. It’s so south, it’s in the next f**king galaxy!” I shouted.

“Let’s go back to the sledgehammer,” Hank suggested.

I pul ed away and started to rol out of bed. I was nearly out when Hank tagged the camisole top of my pajamas and pul ed me back into bed.

“Let go!”

“Roxanne, calm down.”

I struggled against him, “Hank, let me go!” Surprisingly, I won the struggle. It didn’t occur to me he wasn’t going to wrestle with me when I had three cracked ribs. I jumped out of bed and ran to my suitcases, my breathing labored with that minimal effort.

“I have to go, like, now,” I announced even though I was in no shape to go anywhere.

Hank was out of bed and getting in my space.

“Come back to bed,” he said.

“No, I have to go.”

He was blocking my way, every way I turned, and herding me back to the bed.

“Get out of my way!” I shouted.

“Where are you going to go?”

I made a split-second decision, “Mexico!”

“Mexico?”

“My money wil go further there. I could start a franchise, like a convenience store or something. I’l be the gringa queen of my vil age.”

I was stil trying to dodge him when his hands caught my h*ps and he held tight.

“Don’t tel Tex you’re gonna buy a franchise, he’l go bal istic.”