Fighting Dirty
Page 63

“You can hear them?”
He shook his head. “Don’t have to. I’m sure it’s something along those lines.”
“Probably.” A shiver chased down her spine and she leaned in closer to steal some of Leese’s body heat. “He gives me the creeps.”
“And you gave him hell in return. Not a bad trade-off.”
At the time, she’d been too furious on Armie’s behalf to really think about how his father intimidated her. The man wasn’t just obnoxious or mean—he had an eerie sense of immorality around him that made him feel very, very dangerous.
It was only a few seconds later, with Cannon still involved in his close talk, when Armie pulled up to the curb. He got out with a stiff neck and stiffer shoulders, then slammed his door.
Stalking forward, Armie asked, “What’s going on?”
Cannon stepped back from Mac. “Your dad was just leaving.”
Merissa had never seen Armie so quietly enraged and she worried about what he might do.
Mac must have been just as concerned because he was already behind the wheel. He gunned the engine and peeled out, cutting far too close to Armie as he passed.
And Armie didn’t move out of his way.
Near her ear, Leese whispered, “Tell him everything.” Then he went back inside.
That was the thing about Leese, why he made such a great friend. He was always willing to listen, but went out of his way not to intrude.
Armie still stood there in the street, staring after his father’s car though it could no longer be seen. She looked at Cannon, but instead of going to Armie, he started for the house. When he reached her, Merissa said, “He’s upset.”
“And with good reason, hon. His dad somehow knows where you live, and was ballsy enough to come here.”
She didn’t really live at her house much anymore, but she knew that was beside the point. She was watching Armie, so she saw the second he glanced at her.
Then at his truck.
He was thinking of leaving! “Later,” she said to Cannon as she took off in a jog toward Armie.
Hearing her approach, Armie turned to her, his brows down with both lingering anger and concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when she reached him.
Merissa threw herself against him and held on tight.
“What is it, honey?” His hands went up and down her back. “You’re okay?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t pinpoint it, but she knew things were very wrong, and it scared her even more. Tucking her face against Armie’s neck, she breathed in his addictive scent and it helped her collect herself. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“Your dad being here. Freaking out on you.” Clutching his shoulders, she pressed him back so she could see his face. “You were thinking about taking off.”
“Going after him,” he agreed. “I probably still should.” Fury reignited in his dark eyes. “He needs to understand—”
“Cannon talked to him.” Taking his hand, Merissa attempted to tug him toward the house, without much success. “Why don’t you see what agreement he and Cannon came to before you—” Leave me “—go.”
“It’s not Cannon’s problem to deal with.”
So sad that he considered his father no more than a problem. “Well, then, there are things I need to tell you. Stuff Mac said while he was here.”
“All right, tell me.”
With her thoughts tumbling one over the other, Merissa bit her lip, considered her options and gave it one stab. “Armie, please, come in with me. Then we’ll talk.”
His gaze moved over her face, first searching her eyes, then lingering on her mouth. He leaned in for a kiss.
Thinking it’d be short and sweet, Merissa accepted without reserve.
Only Armie didn’t keep it easy. Nope. He turned his head, took the kiss deeper, teased with his tongue and easily made her toes curl—and they were in the street!
Breathless, her hands still gripping his shoulders, she pulled back, licked her now-tingling lips and frowned at him. “You’re impossible.”
Still too solemn, he took her hand and now it was him leading her to the house.
“You want to tell me why you did that?”
“I like kissing you, that’s why.”
She knew it was more than that, but what? Resisting his pull, she slowed his pace and said again, “Armie.”
He stopped at the closed front door, dropped his head for only a moment, then pinned her with his dark, incendiary gaze. “Before I left the rec center I got a call. Bray is missing.”
“Oh no.” Knowing how he felt about the boy, she ached for him. Any responsible adult would worry for Bray, but Armie felt personally attached. “I’m sorry.”
“Then I show up here and my asshole father is hanging around and regardless of whatever details you tell me, I know he was here to make trouble.”
Merissa swallowed. What could she say? He was right.
“So I kissed you because I can. Because it’s one of the few things I can still control.” He drew a breath. “And I enjoy kissing you a hell of a lot more than dealing with the rest of this shit. Now is that answer enough?”
For one of the few times in her life, Merissa felt small. “Yes.”
Armie popped his neck. “Then can we get this over with?”
She understood he was angry, frustrated and worried about Bray. For those reasons only, she let him get by with taking it out on her. But she couldn’t be gracious about it.
Stepping around him, she opened the door and held it for him. “I really am sorry to hear that about Bray. I hope he’s okay.”
Armie started to reply, but she went quickly up the steps, then down the hall and to her bedroom. Rather than slam the door, she closed it very quietly. Dropping facedown onto her mattress, she snagged one of her pillows and hugged it to her.
It wasn’t like her to be tearful, but damn, she felt like having a good cry and she couldn’t even say why. It wasn’t Armie’s soured mood; she’d been raised around Cannon and his friends and while they all treated her nicely and with respect, she’d seen her fair share of frustration and aggravation.
She felt achy and too tired and blah.
A deep breath didn’t help much, but she fought off the tears all the same. She refused to be whiny and instead concentrated on ways she might be helpful. Her brother had great reach in the community, so maybe she could help organize the effort to find Bray.
When she thought of the boy out on his own, the tears threatened again. Stop it. He’ll be fine. She had to believe that.
But on top of worrying for Bray, it brought home the resemblance to Armie’s upbringing.
That awful, crude, hateful man was his father.
It was almost too terrible to bear. When she thought of how he’d been raised, and then his outrageous sexcapades as a grown man, she had to wonder: would she ever really reach him? She knew Armie trusted his friends, but would he ever trust a woman romantically?
Would he ever trust her with his heart?
Lately, he’d been amazing. Even though he spent a lot of time prepping for his fight, he remained attentive to her. He was never too tired to talk and laugh with her, to watch over her—or to have sex. Whenever they got together, which pretty much happened every day, if not twice a day, he gave it his all.