Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Everything hurt.

Literally, every single part of my body ached in some way. From my poor toes that felt like they were bleeding, to my calves that were traumatized, to my exhausted thighs and butt cheeks. If I focused hard enough, my nipples probably hurt too. But it was my hands and forearms that suffered the most on the drive home.

Those one hundred and twenty minutes were spent with me clutching the steering wheel for dear life, holding my breath more often than not.

If I hadn’t just spent the last few hours terrified, my body might have been capable of summing up genuine fear at the rocks and ruts that I drove over. It was only because I was so focused on following Rhodes and not driving over anything sharp that I didn’t lose my shit as we drove painstakingly slow. And if I hadn’t been so tired, I might have cheered when we finally made it to the highway.

It was then that I finally managed to exhale, deeply and completely, from the bottom, bottom of my gut.

I’d made it.

I really had made it.

It had to be the relief that kept me from shaking on the rest of the drive. But the moment after I turned off my car, that was when it hit me. It was a backhand to my face when I wasn’t expecting it.

I blew out a breath a split second before my entire body started shaking. In shock, in fear.

Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and shook hard from my neck down to my calves.

I was fine, and that was all that mattered.

I was fine.

The door to my left opened, and before I could turn my head to the side, a big hand landed on my back and Rhodes’s gruff voice spoke inside the car. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, angel.”

I nodded, my forehead still there even as another harsh shiver racked my body.

His hand stroked farther down my spine. “Come on. Let’s get inside. You need food, water, rest, and a shower.”

I nodded again, a knot forming in my throat.

Rhodes reached behind me, and a moment later my seat belt loosened. Rhodes guided me to sit back, letting the seat belt snap back into place. I glanced toward him right as he leaned forward, and before I knew what was happening, his arms slipped beneath me, one under the backs of my knees, the other under my shoulder blades, and he hoisted me up. Against his chest I went, cradled.

And I said, “Oh” and “Rhodes, what are you doing?”

And he said, “Taking you upstairs.” He closed the door with his hip before beginning to move, carrying me like it was no big deal as we made our way to the garage apartment. The door was unlocked, so all it took was a quick flip of his wrist to open it before we were going up.

“If you help me, I can do the stairs myself,” I told him, taking in the silver-brown facial hair covering his jaw and chin.

His gray eyes flicked to me as he took one step after another up. “You can, and I would, but I can do it.” And like he was proving a point, he squeezed me tighter to him, closer to that broad chest that had been the biggest relief of my life when I’d spotted him coming out of his car.

He’d come for me. I pressed my lips together and glanced down at my hands, which I was holding against my chest, and felt more tears spring up in my eyes. That same familiar fear that I’d suppressed the entire drive home flared up inside of me again.

Another shiver raced through me, strong and potent, coaxing a few more tears into my eyes.

I could feel Rhodes’s gaze on my face as he kept on climbing the stairs, but he didn’t say a word. His arms held me even closer somehow, his mouth dipping closer too, and if I hadn’t closed my eyes, I was pretty sure I would have seen him brush his mouth against my temple. Instead, all I did was feel it, light and more than likely an accident.

I sucked in my breath and held back a choke as he lowered me to the bed and said, quietly, “Take a shower.”

Opening my eyes, I found him standing almost directly in front of me. A frown took over his mouth as I nodded.

“I reek, I’m sorry,” I apologized, barely able to get the words out.

His frown got even more severe.

I pressed my lips together.

Rhodes’s head cocked to the side at the same time his gaze moved over my face and he said very carefully, “You had a scare, angel.”

I nodded, holding my breath and trying to swallow the emotion clogging my throat. “I was just thinking . . .” I sniffled, my words a croak.

Rhodes kept on looking at me.

I curled my fingers in my lap, felt my knee shaking, and whispered, “You know that time I told you I wasn’t scared of dying?” I scrunched up my face and felt a tear slip out of my eye and stream down my cheek. “I was lying. I am scared.” A few more tears escaped, hitting my jawline. “I know I wouldn’t have died, but I still thought I was going to once or twice—”

A big, big hand swept over half of my face before doing the same to the other side, and in the time it took me to realize what he was doing, I was up again, his arms around me once more. Then I was on top of him, seated across his thighs with my shoulder to his chest, and it was me that pressed my face to his throat as another shiver ran through me.

“I was so scared, Rhodes,” I whispered into his skin as his arm curled low around my back.

“You’re okay now,” he said hoarsely.

“All I could think about, when I could, was that I had so much still left to live for. There’s so much I want to do, and I know it’s dumb. I know I’m fine. I know the worst that could have happened was that I’d have to hide under a tree with my tarp and an emergency blanket to rest for a while, but then I pictured myself falling down and getting hurt and no one knowing where I was, or not being able to help me, and I was alone. And why did I go alone? What the hell do I have to prove to anybody? My mom wouldn’t have wanted me to feel like that, right?”

He shook his head against me, and I buried my face even deeper into the softest skin of his throat.

“I’m sorry. I know I stink and I’m sticky and gross, but I was so happy to see you. And I’m so glad you went. Otherwise . . .” I sniffled, and a couple more tears spilled between us. I could feel them stream between my cheeks and his skin.

Rhodes hugged me even closer to him, and his voice was steady when he said, “You’re fine. You’re totally fine, angel face. Nothing’s going to happen. I’m here, and Am is next door, and you’re not alone. Not anymore. It’s all right. Take a breather.”

I took the deep breath he’d mentioned and then took another one. I wasn’t alone. I was out of there. And I was never going hiking again . . . though I might change my mind eventually, but that was beside the point. My shoulders slowly loosened, and I felt my stomach begin to unclench; I hadn’t even realized I was sucking it in.

The hand on my back stroked my side down to my hip, and Rhodes kept on holding me.

Digging deep into my gut, I said, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“I’m probably overreacting—”

He petted me again. “You’re not.”

“It feels that way though. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that scared, and it really just got under my skin.”

“Most people are scared of dying. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“Are you?” I pressed my forehead closer to the warm, smooth skin of his throat.

“I think I’m more scared of the people I care about dying than I am of myself.”

“Oh,” I said.

Rhodes’s sigh was soft. “I’m a little scared of not doing all the things I want to do, I guess.”

“Like what?” I asked him, my forehead still to his neck. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, and it soothed me.

“Well, seeing Am grow up.”

I nodded.

His palm settled on top of my thigh. “I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, and I don’t think I have too much time left, but I think I’d like to have another kid.” His chest rose and fell against me. “Not I think. I’m sure.”

Something inside of me stilled. “You would?”

He nodded, the bristles of facial hair tickling my skin. “Yeah. I told you how much I regret all the things I missed with Am. I like kids. I just wasn’t sure I ever would be able to have one in the first place, but back then I didn’t think I’d be back in Colorado, not in the Navy, not . . .”

“Not what?” I asked him, holding my breath.

The hand on my thigh slid up to my hip, lingering there. “Not . . . here.”

I didn’t know what he meant. Or maybe I was just too tired to think about it too much because I nodded like I understood when I didn’t, feeling a small pang in my chest at the idea of him wanting another child, considering how that child would need to be conceived . . . How he would need a woman in his life to have one because Amos’s mom couldn’t have another. I asked, “What would you want? If you could choose. Another boy or a girl?”

The arms around me tightened just a little. “I’d be grateful for either.” His breath drifted over my cheek, and I realized then just how much I liked his voice. The steady roughness of it. It was such a treat to my ears. “But I only have brothers, and I only have nephews, so maybe a girl would be kind of fun. Break the cycle.”

“Girls are fun,” I agreed with a shaky exhale. “And I’m sure you still have time. If you wanted. I’ve heard of men having kids in their fifties and sixties.”

I felt his “mm-hmm” through his chest. “You?” he asked.

“I don’t care either. I’d love them anyway.” I sniffled. “I might have to settle for a puppy though at the rate I’m going.”

His laugh was a soft puff, his words damn near a whisper. “No. I don’t think you’ll have to do that.”

I lifted my head and looked at his handsome face. This close, the color of his eyes was even more incredible. His lashes were thick, his bone structure perfectly pronounced. Even the lines at his eyes and alongside his mouth were shallow but added so much to his features, I’d bet he was even more handsome now than he’d been in his twenties. Even though my cheeks felt tight from the tears, I managed to smile at him a little. “At this point, I think I’d be happy to have someone to grow old with so I’m not alone. It might have to be Yuki.”

Rhodes’s face softened as his gaze, which I felt to the tips of my toes, roamed mine and his hand slipped back down my leg to rest on my thigh. He gave it a squeeze. “I don’t think you have to worry about that either, Buddy.” His gaze settled on mine, and the next thing I knew, he hugged me again.

He hugged me for a long time.

And after a while, he eventually pulled back and said, “I got news today. I have to leave for a few weeks.”

“Is everything okay?”

Rhodes’s nod was grave. “Another warden in the Colorado Springs district was in an accident, and he won’t be able to get back to work for a while, so they’re sending me there.” The hand on my thigh flexed. “They said two weeks, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was longer. I’ve got a few days to get things sorted. I need to call Johnny and see about Amos.”

“Anything I can do to help, let me know,” I threw in.

His mouth twisted, and I had to fight the urge to hug him. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

His mouth twisted a little more. “I’ll talk to Am and get back to you.”

I nodded and thought about something. “Is he still grounded?”

“Technically. I still tell him ‘no’ to a few things, so he doesn’t think everything has been forgiven and forgotten, but I’m letting him off the hook a little. He barely complained about his punishment, so I don’t see a point being too hard on him.”

I smiled.

But the twist of his mouth dropped off, and Rhodes said, seriously, “You’ll be fine here.”

“I know.”

“I might let Am stay, but I might not. I haven’t thought about it enough, but I’ll tell you as soon as I do.”

I nodded.

“You’re welcome over at the house any time you want,” he said, his eyes careful. “Might save you some hassle to do your laundry there from now on.”

From now on? That got me to smile. “Thanks.”

“Colorado Springs is only a few hours away. You need help, call Am or Johnny.”

“If you or Am need anything, tell me. I mean it. Anything. I owe you big-time after today.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” His hand moved back up to my hip. “I’ll only be away for a little while.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’ll be here,” I told him, setting my hand down on his forearm. “Whatever you, Johnny, or Am need, I’ve got you three.” I owed him for today and yesterday—for so much, really, regardless of what he thought. I wouldn’t forget, not any of it.

He looked right into my eyes as he said it. “I know, Aurora.”