Havoc Page 8

  “Are you going to lie down with me?” he asks quietly as we walk into the bedroom we’ve shared since I moved in. Tonight, I’m wondering how in the hell we’ve kept our hands off one another every night. How have we been so successful in avoiding the way both of us feel? What changed? Maybe that’s the question I should be asking. What the hell changed? Why do I feel so close to him tonight?

  “Do you want me to?”

  I don’t want to pressure him, especially after what happened in the bathroom. Neither one of us needs the temptation or honestly the frustration.

  “I hate being alone when I’m sick,” he admits.

  “Which is totally different from how you are all the rest of the time.” I wink.

  “It’s true, normally I love my alone time. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, but when I’m sick,” he shakes his head as if to say I am who I am, “I like to have company.”

  “Then you’ll have company, just let me go make sure everything is turned off and the doors are locked.”

  I quickly pad back into the living room, make sure everything is taken care of, and get back to him for the night. At the doorway to our bedroom, I stop quickly. He’s lying on the bed, propped up by some pillows, looking so much like a little kid. Holden barely lets his guard down with anyone, and right now there is nothing in between us. I’ll hold onto this memory forever. It doesn’t take me long to get ready and hop in next to him.

  “It’s your turn to the pick the movie,” he tells me as I come back into the room. He’s already got the TV on, Netflix queued up on the screen.

  “You sure? You’re sick, maybe I should let you pick it.”

  “I can almost guarantee I’ll be out before this movie is an hour in. You pick what you want.”

  On impulse, I pick a love story. One I’ve seen a million times. “I always wanted someone to dance with me like this.” I snuggle in next to him, allowing him to wrap me in his arms.

  As he watches Patrick Swayze shake his hips on the screen, he snorts. “I’m not your dance partner if that’s the kind of dancing you want.”

  “We could take lessons,” I suggest, turning my face so that ours are inches apart in the darkness of the room. Only the TV lights the way for us to see one another.

  “You want me to take dance lessons with you?”

  “I’m sure they offer them in Birmingham.” I’m quick to make a suggestion. The confession had been uttered before I realized what I was saying, and then the invitation to take lessons hadn’t been thought through either.

  We’re quiet for a long time, and I wonder if he’s not even going to give me an answer. Maybe this is the time I’ve overstepped my boundaries and I’ve asked too much of him.

  “Does it mean something to you?” His question is whispered in the relative silence of the room.

  I shrug. “Just something I always wanted to do.”

  I’m downplaying it, and I think he knows.

  “Leigh, if we want this to work, you have to be honest with me. There’s no other way we can make it if you’re not.”

  He’s already done so much for me, I hate to lay this on him as well, but I brought it up, and he’s asking, so I’m going to give him the whole spiel. Doesn’t matter in the end anyway, because I don’t know if this marriage is forever or not anyway.

  “When I was ten, I saw that movie for the first time.”

  He interrupts me. “Are you shitting me? That’s a sexual movie for a ten-year-old.”

  “Remember what family I come from.” I raise an eyebrow and he motions for me to continue. “From that point on, I had it in my head that on my wedding day, my husband and I would do a portion of that last dance, including the lift,” I laugh as I say it now. “Never in my life have I trusted anyone to hold me up like that, and without a doubt, I knew even then that the man I married would have my trust. I’d trust him enough not to drop me, for me to let go, and spread my wings as far as I could.”

  I stop, biting my lip, not going any further. I glance at him, giving him a tilt of my mouth. “Stupid, huh?”

  “Not stupid.” He grabs my hand in his. “Am I the man to have that trust?” His brown eyes search mine, looking for something I’m not sure I’m ready to give.

  “It doesn’t matter why we got married, Holden,” I whisper, because it’s the only way I can get through this. I’m about to lay some truth out, and hope he hears it loud and clear. “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t trust you.”

  He makes a sound in his throat, one I’m not sure of what origin, but I squeal happily as he pulls me into his chest. “Thank you for that gift.”

  “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

  As we’re both drifting off, I can feel him push my hair back from my forehead, and in that hoarse voice I can hear him speak. “If keeping you safe is the only reason you think I married you, Leigh, you aren’t lookin’ hard enough at what I’m trying to show you.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Leighton

  “No! Get back from the wall!”

  I’m having the weirdest dream. Holden is telling me to get back from some wall, and screaming at me to take cover. I feel a huge weight on top of me, strangling the breath out of my lungs. My eyes pop open and I realize quickly I’m not having the dream, Holden is.

  It’s a nightmare. He’s on top of me, his hands on my head, protecting me from some unknown flying object he’s seeing in his dream. I try to get up.

  “Stay the fuck down, we don’t know when they’ll come back around. We’ve got to radio in and let them know we’re under attack.”

  “We’re good, Havoc.” I purposely use his call sign. “We’re good.” I grab hold of his hand. “They won’t be coming back around tonight.”

  He opens his eyes, but he’s not seeing me. They aren’t focused, and he’s not locked in on my face. “How do you know?” There’s a tremor in his voice, and his face is pale, white with the flush of fever and fear.

  This man needs me, and by God, I’m going to be the person he needs. He’s always there for me, has made a ton of sacrifices since he invited me into his home. If I can sacrifice sleep one night for him, I’ll do it. “Because they’re out of fuel,” I make something up off the top of my head.

  “Makes sense.” He nods. “That tanker never made it here. No tellin’ how much they had and now how much they have. Think we’re good to go?”

  “Yeah.” I grab his hands, pulling him closer to me. “But first, I think we need to rest, you’ve had a rough day.”

  “I’m so tired,” he admits, resting his head against my chest. “So damn tired.”

  Wrapping my arms around his body, I hold him to me, running my hand over the fade he still keeps. I shush him and quietly hum until I can feel his body relax and can hear the heavy breathing of someone in a deep sleep.

  It’s only then, that I allow myself to go to sleep too.

  * * *

  When I wake up again, it’s later than I anticipated, judging from the way the sun is shining through the window. Reaching over, I grab my cell, squinting to read that it’s almost nine-thirty in the morning. Shit! Both Holden and I are late for work.

  Taking stock of everything going on, I close my eyes for a moment. Holden isn’t radiating as much heat off his body as he was last night. I let my hand lightly rest on his forearm and breathe easier at the clammy feel of his skin. Sometime over the night, he broke his fever. He still shouldn’t be at work today, and he shouldn’t be alone, either. Tiptoeing over to his side of the bed, I swipe his phone and quietly make my way out of the bedroom, shutting the door, and down the hallway.

  I have five missed calls on mine, all from Ernie and Violet, along with a text message from Caleb trying to reach me for his dad. Quickly re-dialing the last number that called me, I wait impatiently while the number rings.

  “The Café, Ernie speaking, and this damn well better be Leighton.”

  “Hi.” I run a hand through my hair, nervous at the gruff tone of his voice. “
It’s me.”

  “Girl, I have been scared to death. No one’s heard from you and Holden today. Some of the MTF left here for your house about ten minutes ago; we’ve all been worried sick.”

  It never occurred to me that people would worry about me. No one did when I was just a Strather. “I’m so sorry,” I apologize. “Holden was sick last night, running a high temperature and we had a rough night. Neither one of us set our alarms when we went to sleep, and I just now woke up. He’s still asleep, but I think he broke his fever,” I explain quickly. “I can be there as soon as I get him settled,” I offer, not wanting to upset Ernie any further because he’s been so good to me.

  “No need, honey, and I’m sorry if I was rough earlier. We were afraid something happened with your family.” His voice is quieter now, like he’s keeping that between the two of us.

  “We’re fine as far as that goes,” I reassure him. “I just hope y’all aren’t too busy.”

  He chuckles. “You must not have even looked outside yet. We got ice all over everything. Not many people are getting out of their beds to go anywhere, but I was still worried when I didn’t hear from you. School’s closed and Caleb got dropped off before his Dad went out to help.”

  “Ice?” I can’t remember the last time it got cold enough for ice to form or for it to snow for that matter. Maybe when I was in middle school?

  “Yeah, damn miracle. Should melt today though, as it warms. Everybody says it’ll get up into the forties.”

  I have to cut him off, Ernie will talk forever. “Okay, thanks, I’ll plan on being at work tomorrow.”

  “Even if you’re not, honey, just call me and let me know. Don’t make an old man worry.”

  I smile, despite myself. “I won’t, I promise.”

  After we hang up, I grab Holden’s phone and swipe my finger across the bottom. Chances are it’s locked, but if it isn’t, hopefully I’ll be able to cut the guys off at the pass before they make it all the way out here. I’m not surprised when there’s a pass code. On impulse, I pick our wedding date, which he knows I would know. The phone unlocks, and a warmth spreads across my chest and through my stomach. Maybe there’s a trust between us I don’t realize, and it makes me smile.

  Sifting through his contacts, I find one that I’m somewhat familiar with. Ryan. Clicking the button, I walk over to the kitchen window and push back the curtain. The coolness coming through the pane takes my breath away as I see the ice glistening off the trees around the house. They hang low, brushing the power lines, making me hope they don’t break, and cause a power outage.

  “Havoc, we’ve been worried sick about you and Leighton. We’re on our way.”

  He doesn’t even say hi as he answers, causing me to have to wait until he’s done before I can speak.

  “This is Leighton,” I explain, hoping they believe me. “Holden’s really sick, he ran a fever all night last night – still has a small one this morning. We both overslept and I had no idea about the ice storm,” I finish in a quick breath.

  “But the two of you are okay?”

  I nod before realizing he can’t see me. “We’re fine, I promise.”

  There are voices in the background before he comes back to the phone. “We’re ten minutes out, tops. We’ll come salt the porch and make sure there’s nothing on the power lines, since we’ve already come this far.”

  Immediately my stomach drops and tears come to my eyes. I’m used to not being believed, and it hurts to know these guys don’t believe me. After all I’m the daughter of a criminal. “Okay.” My voice is soft, wounded, scared to even my own ears.

  “Hey, I believe you.” Ryan seems to be able to understand what I’m feeling. “Nobody blames you for your family, Leighton; we just want to make sure the two of you are okay and taken care of. It’s kinda what we do.”

  Furiously, I scrub at the tears leaking from my eyes. Why I let my doubts get to me, I can’t explain and I hate it. Hate it almost as much as I hate the stock I came from, but it’s another thing I can’t seem to be able to change.

  “See you in a few minutes.”

  C’mon Leighton, it’s time to get it together. But I’m cold, and I don’t know how to light this gas heat. A part of me wants to wake Holden up, but the other part wants to be able to figure out this problem on my own, or maybe ask the guys when they get here. Quickly, I quietly go back to the bedroom, put on a pair of sweatpants, boots, and grab a huge hoodie of Holden’s.

  As I walk out onto the porch, a truck carrying Ryan, Trevor, and Caleb are headed my way. I at least had the presence of mind to put my hair up; I don’t look like a complete homeless person. “Hi,” I greet them, still embarrassed with the way I acted on the phone.

  “Hey,” Ryan waves a hand at me. “We’re not here to judge, promise.” He gives me a small smile.

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  He grabs a bag of salt from the back of the truck and walks toward me. When he gets close enough, he drops his head and voice enough so only the two of us can hear. “My parents weren’t the best in the world, Leighton, and I know what it’s like to carry that shit around with you. But if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last couple of years, being a part of this team, it’s that where you come from doesn’t mean shit. It’s your heart and how you act.” He stops, giving me another smile, probably the one that got him into Whitney’s bed. “Your heart is amazing, I hear about how you make time for Stella when Whitney has meetings at The Café, and you’ve been nothing but nice to the rest of us. You don’t ever have to worry we think you have ulterior motives, because that’s so not the case.” He nods to Trevor and Caleb, who are inspecting a low-lying branch. “We deeply respect Holden, and he’d be out here doing this for us if the shoe were on the other foot. Now just let us help, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  I step back. “Got it, let you help,” I laugh. “More than anything, it’s freezing in the house and I’m not sure how to work the gas logs,” I admit.

  “You’re in luck, Tank has those same logs at his house. Tank!” he yells across the driveway, “you need to show her how to start those logs, they don’t have heat right now.”

  He flashes a thumbs up at his friend, looks like he gives Caleb some instructions before he carefully makes his way across the gravel. “Same one as my house, right?” His breath flashes white in the cold air, crystals forming on his beard as he questions Ryan.

  “Exact same.”

  Trevor looks at me, and I’m slightly mesmerized by his gaze. Are all these guys so damn good looking?

  “Alright then, let’s go.” He turns back, lifting his eyebrows in my direction. “Let’s get the house warm, then we’ll work on the outside.”

  “O-O-kay,” I stumble over my answer. I’ve never really been alone with these guys before, and obviously I don’t know how to speak any longer.

  As we climb the steps of the porch, he lets me step in front of him to open the door. “You know I don’t bite,” he teases, coming inside and taking his gloves off.

  “I know.” I blow out a breath. “I’m just never sure how to act with you, how to talk to you. I feel so damn guilty about what happened to you,” I explain, for the first time opening up to Trevor. Usually I make sure we never even have to speak to one another.

  “What your brother did, isn’t what you did, Leighton. Holden wouldn’t have married you if he thought you were anything like your family. I can’t speak for what your marriage is like behind closed doors, but Holden seems happy, and that’s all any of us care about.”

  Speechlessness doesn’t happen to me very often, but it happens right now. “Thank you,” I whisper because it’s all I can say, all I can do.

  “Let me show you how to light this thing so we can get it warm in here.”

  I nod, watching as he squats next to the logs and proceeds to show me what to do. I’m thankful for his patience and his instruction when I feel the warmth start flowing through the house.

  “Alright, let�
�s go see if the other two need some help.”

  Less than an hour later, all of them are loading back up in the truck, waving as they pull away from the house. I wave back, before I re-enter the house, surprised to see Holden standing in the hallway, a blanket wrapped around his body. I cross my arms over myself as his eyes travel up and down the length of me. Our eyes meet across the room, the air getting sucked out of the space. I wait, wondering what he’ll say to me. Wondering what in the hell he remembers from last night.

  His voice, when he finally speaks is deep, scratchy, and washes over me like warm whiskey. “You look even better in my clothes this morning.”

  Heat warms my cheeks as I take in what he’s said. It’s not at all what I expected, but it feels better than anything he’s ever said to me before.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Havoc

  “You look even better in my clothes this morning.”

  Lame. The words I spoke were so lame. Usually I’m much smoother than this. When I woke up, I’d been disoriented, wondering why I was still in bed with it being so light outside. Then bits and pieces of the night before had come back to me, and then I’d made the mistake of trying to swallow and almost come off the bed. Right now, it feels as if there are shards of glass working their way out of my throat and tonsils. Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms over my t-shirt covered chest, surprised at how warm it is in here.

  “Sorry.” She ducks her head. “It’s cold out there, and I’ve been helping Ryan salt the porch.”

  “Renegade?” I’m more confused than ever. How fucking long was I out for? And why in God’s name are they salting the front porch?

  She nods. “Yeah,” she replies, before she reaches down to take her boots off. “Why don’t you come to the kitchen and I’ll fix you something to eat? We need to get some more medicine in you and you need something in your stomach.”

  “My throat is killing me,” I admit.