Chapter 22

chapter

twenty-two

Rylan woke to golden light spilling across the rumpled sheets and a cold nose nudging insistently at his hand. He groaned and cracked one eye open, squinting against the brightness. “You better not piss on my floor.”

Valor woofed softly and pawed at the covers, his meaning clear.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting up.” Rylan threw back the blankets and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past sunrise without chemical assistance. His mouth tasted like something had died in it, but his head was clear, lacking the cottony heaviness of a hangover.

He stood and stretched, joints popping. He was too damn young to feel this old. His body had been through hell, between the rocket that took his arm and the years of hard living that followed.

But he was still here, still breathing. And for a minute last night, he didn’t think he would be. That had to count for something.

He stumbled to the bathroom to pee and brush the stale taste from his mouth, then studied his reflection in the mirror for a long moment. Bloodshot hazel eyes stared back at him from a face that was leaner and harder than it had any right to be at thirty-three.

Valor whined and danced by the door, tail wagging impatiently.

“Cool your jets, buddy. I’m coming.” He tugged on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt, not bothering with shoes or his prosthetic arm that still lay on the bedroom floor where he’d thrown it. He padded barefoot to the front door of the cabin, Valor trotting happily at his heels.

The morning air was crisp and damp, carrying the scent of pine and dew-laden earth. Rylan inhaled deeply, savoring the freshness. Steam curled from his breath in the chill. Valor bounded down the porch steps and made a beeline for a bush, hiking his leg with a contented grunt.

Rylan watched Valor sniff around the yard, his gaze drifting to the tree line that bordered the property. The woods were quiet, still. Peaceful. So different from the chaos and noise that constantly churned in his head.

He leaned against the porch railing, the weathered wood rough under his palm. He didn’t know how long he stood there, letting the serenity of the morning seep into his bones. But eventually, Valor trotted back up the steps and butted his head against Rylan’s leg, breaking the spell.

“All right. I suppose you want breakfast. I hope Zak brought you food.“ He turned to go back inside, but movement at the end of the long driveway caught his eye. A familiar old Jeep Wrangler. His heart stuttered, then began to pound.

Izzy.

He watched, frozen, as her car crept closer. Part of him wanted to retreat

Part of him wanted to retreat into the house, to slam the door and shut her out. But another part, a stronger part, held him in place, his gaze locked on her Jeep as it crawled to a stop in front of the cabin.

The engine cut off, and for a long moment, nothing happened. Then the driver’s side door opened, and Izzy stepped out, her chestnut brown hair pulled back in its usual ponytail. Even from a distance, he could see the uncertainty in her posture, the hesitation in her steps as she approached the porch.

Valor’s ears perked up, and his tail gave a tentative wag. Rylan placed a calming hand on the dog’s head. “Easy, boy.”

Izzy stopped at the bottom of the steps, her amber eyes flicking from Rylan to Valor and back again. “That’s a pretty dog.”

Valor wagged at the compliment, and Rylan smothered the completely irrational stab of jealousy.

Jesus, get a grip, Cross.

Rylan cleared his throat. “His name is Valor.”

“Hi, Valor.” She knelt to let Valor sniff her. The dog snuffled her hand and then tackled her with a series of furious licks, tail wagging madly.

She laughed, and the sound was like a balm to Rylan’s frayed nerves.

After a moment, she pushed Valor off and sat up. Her ponytail was askew, and she had a smear of dirt on her face.

He held out a hand to help her up. There was only a second of hesitation before she set her hand in his. He hauled her up, and the momentum brought her close. So close their bodies nearly touched, and he could smell the familiar citrusy scent of her shampoo, see the golden flecks in her brown eyes. His hand tightened on hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles before he forced himself to let go and step back.

She took a step back, shoving her hands in her pockets as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them now. Her gaze darted around the yard, the porch, anywhere but his face. She finally focused back on Valor.

“He’s a friendly boy. Is he yours?”

“Yeah. Uh, I mean, no. Uh… Zak brought him over last night. He’s going back to the rescue today.”

Valor huffed and looked back at him with narrowed eyes. If dogs could scowl, he would one-hundred percent be scowling at Rylan right now.

Izzy rolled her lips together as if smothering a laugh. “Looks like he has feelings about that.”

Rylan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a twinge of… something he couldn’t put a finger on. Was that… disappointment? Was he actually disappointed at the thought of giving Valor back?

”He’s a good dog. Smart. Intuitive.” He met Izzy’s eyes. “Zak thought he might be able to help me.”

Izzy studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “And has he? Helped you?”

Rylan blew out a breath. “It’s only been one night. But… yeah. I think maybe he has.”

“So why do you want to send him back?”

When he didn’t answer, she chanced a step closer. “Why are you pushing everyone away when you should be leaning on them harder than ever right now?”

Because they’re not you.

The clarity of that thought startled him.

Silence stretched between them.

“What are you doing here?” His question came out gruffer than he intended.

Her eyes snapped to his, a flicker of hurt in their amber depths before she masked it. “I can go if you want me to.”

“No,” he said quickly, surprising them both with his vehemence. He gentled his tone. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just… wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me.”

Until that moment, he hadn’t been sure he wanted to see her, but now, with her standing in front of him, he couldn’t remember why. His gaze hungrily traced the delicate lines of her face, the curve of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips. God, she was beautiful. And strong. So much stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

Including himself.

“I always want to see you, Iz.” The words came out low and rough with emotion. “Even when I shouldn’t.” He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the pulse fluttering in her throat. He wanted to press his lips there, to feel her heartbeat against his mouth. “And that’s the problem.” He turned away before he got any crazy ideas.

“Why?” she whispered the question, but with the way it impacted him, she may as well have shouted it. “Why is that a problem, Rylan?”

He closed his eyes. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” She moved to stand in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “Explain it to me.”

He opened his eyes and met her stubborn gaze. “Because I can’t trust you! Because every time I let myself forget that, even for a second, all I can see is you walking away from me, leaving me bleeding on the ground while mercenaries carted away my sister.”

She flinched. “That’s not fair. I didn’t have a choice?—“

“There’s always a choice. You chose them over me. Over us.”

“There was no us!” Izzy cried, shoving at his chest. He barely budged. “You made damn sure of that long before I ever betrayed you. You kept me at arm’s length even though we both wanted more.”

Rylan reeled back as if she’d landed a physical blow. Because she was right, he had kept her at arm’s length. He’d been too afraid she’d see his cracks, see he was already crumbling. Too scared she’d see him for the weak, cowardly man he actually was and hate him for it.

“And even if there had been an us, I wouldn’t have chosen differently. I saved my family in the only way I knew how to at the time.” Her eyes flashed with hurt and anger as she stepped toward him, closing the distance he’d put between them. “Yes, it was wrong. I should’ve told you or Pierce or Ash—anyone—what was going on, but I panicked. I panicked and made a mistake. And I’ve been paying for it ever since.”

“A mistake that nearly got my sister killed!” The words exploded out of him, his control snapping. “A mistake that put everyone I care about in danger!”

“And you’ve never made a mistake like that? You’ve never made a choice that hurt everyone around you?”

If she had punched him, it would’ve hurt less. “Don’t.”

“What about the other night? If you had succeeded in killing yourself, don’t you think that would’ve hurt everyone you care about?” She thumped a hand against her chest over her heart. “Hurt everyone that cares about you?”

Jesus, she was going for blood this morning, hitting him with one verbal blow after another, leaving him winded and reeling.

But she was right.

God, she was so right.

He’d made the same kind of mistake she had— but while she’d acted impulsively out of fear, he’d hesitated. And his was arguably worse because it had killed half his team. At least her mistake hadn’t killed anyone. It could have, but it didn’t.

Valor whined softly and nudged Rylan’s hand. He looked down at the dog. It was enough of a distraction that he was able to pull himself back from the darkness threatening to swallow him

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, not quite able to meet Izzy’s eyes. “You’re right. I’ve made mistakes, too. Mistakes that cost lives. I just...” He blew out a breath, struggling to find the words. “I don’t know how to let it go. The anger. The guilt. It’s eating me alive.”

“Then let me help you.” Izzy’s voice was soft, pleading. She reached out to touch his arm, her fingers warm against his skin. “Talk to me, Ry. Help me understand what happened the other night. What triggered you? Because when you gave me a ride to my car, you seemed… okay. At least as okay as you ever are lately.”

He turned away, bracing his hands on the porch railing, his head bowed. Shame and self-loathing churned in his gut, bile burning his throat as he tried to remember what drove him to chase a handful of sleeping pills with booze. But it was all just… a black hole. “I don’t remember.”

Her hand settled between his shoulder blades. “What do you remember?”

“It’s all just… fragments. Flashes. I remember getting home after dropping you off. I remember calling Sawyer…” Something there, he thought. Something important, right at the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t reach it. Frustration simmered beneath his skin, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to grasp the elusive wisps of memory. “I remember pouring a drink. Then I remember I was angry. So fucking angry.”

“At Sawyer?”

“No.”

“Me?” Her voice was small, uncertain.

“No.” The denial was instant, vehement. He didn’t know how he knew it was the truth, but it was. He turned to face her. “I think I was angry at myself. For wanting you. For needing you.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “For not being strong enough to stay away from you.”

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted on a soft inhale, drawing his gaze right to them. “Rylan…”

He didn’t think anymore. He was so damn tired of thinking. He just wanted to feel. He leaned toward her, and for a moment, they hovered on the precipice, the air between them electric with anticipation. Then he closed the distance, capturing her lips with his own. The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. He was afraid she might shatter or disappear or, worse, pull back and tell him she didn’t want him like he wanted her. But when Izzy’s arms wound around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, something inside him broke loose.

He deepened the kiss, one arm snaking around her waist to pull her flush against him. She tasted of coffee and cinnamon, sweet and warm. Her lips were soft, yielding beneath his, yet there was a hunger in the way she kissed him back that matched his own desperation.

The world fell away, narrowing to just this—the press of her body against his, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with his own. Rylan’s hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her hair as he angled her head to deepen the kiss. Izzy made a small, needy sound in the back of her throat that sent a jolt of electricity down his spine.

He backed her up against the porch railing, caging her in with his body. His hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her ponytail as he angled her head to deepen the kiss. Izzy arched into him, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.

Teeth nipped, tongues tangled. He poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss—his longing, his fear, his desperate need for her. She matched him passion for passion, her body melting into his…

A sharp bark startled them apart.

Rylan blinked, dazed, as reality crashed back in. Valor stood at the bottom of the porch steps, his body tense as a Black Ram pickup truck pulled into the driveway, and Shane climbed out.

“Jesus,” Rylan muttered, running a hand through his hair. His heart pounded, desire and confusion warring inside him.

Izzy’s cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses. She looked as stunned as he felt. “Rylan, I?—“

“Don’t.” He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Just... don’t say anything. Please.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, but she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.

Rylan turned away, gripping the porch railing so hard his knuckles turned white. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t trust her. Couldn’t let her back in. It would destroy him.

But he wanted to. God help him, he wanted to so badly.

“I should go,” Izzy said quietly. She hurried down the steps and gave Valor a pat on the head before she offered Shane a weak smile and all but dove into her car.

Rylan watched Izzy’s Jeep disappear down the driveway, his chest tight with a mix of longing and regret. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to compose himself before facing Shane.

“Well, that was awkward,” Shane drawled as he climbed the porch steps. His scarred face twisted into a wry smile. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Rylan muttered, even as the taste of Izzy lingered on his lips.

Shane’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were about five seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off.”

“Fuck off, Shane.”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Shane held up his hands in a placating gesture, then his smile widened as Valor sniffed his pant leg. “I see the mutt’s still here.”

“He’s not a mutt,” Rylan said more sharply than he intended. Valor looked up at him in concern, then trotted to his side, pressing against his leg. He stroked Valor’s floppy triangle of an ear and took a moment to temper is annoyance. “And yeah, he’s still here. For now.”

Shane nodded. “Glad to see it. Dogs are good for the soul, especially for men like us.” He studied Rylan for a long moment, his pale blue-gray eyes probing. “But I’m going to need you to take him back to the rescue for a few hours.”

Rylan’s hand tightened in Valor’s fur. The thought of giving him back—even if it was just for a few hours—sent a surprising wave of anxiety through him. “Why?”

“Because we’re going on a road trip.”