Getting Rowdy
Page 87

“Rowdy, please don’t run from me.”
He snorted. He didn’t run from anyone, sure as hell not a woman who weighed a buck ten soaking wet. Catching her hands, he started to pry her loose, but she clung like a vine, squeezing tighter.
Her head barely reached his shoulder, she was as delicate as dandelion fluff in the wind and yet she held on to him like she’d never let go. Damn, it felt good.
Rather than risk hurting her, Rowdy covered her hands with his own. “It’s not a good story, honey. Nothing you need to hear.” It doesn’t matter—but damn it, he knew it did. He’d just never had anyone to tell.
“You’re wrong.” Keeping hold of him, she sidled around to the front, then stared up at him. “If it had happened to me, would you want to know?”
Denying even the possibility of her being hurt like that, he shook his head. “Don’t say that, honey.” He cupped her face. “It’s not the same thing.”
“No, it’s very different.” She breathed faster. “Because I love you.”
Jesus, she’d just said it again. Eyes flared and heart pounding, Rowdy struggled with what to do. He sort of...panicked. Turning away, a hand to his neck, he fought the claws of tension sinking in.
Avery didn’t move. He f**king felt her stillness behind him.
He didn’t want to make her feel bad, ever, but either way he went with this, it was going to happen. Keeping his back to her, he said, “Last chance, babe. We can dress and get out of here.”
She said nothing.
“Or I can unload a few lousy stories on you.” He turned to face her. “Your call.”
A shuddering breath lifted her chest. She went to the side of the bed, sat and waited.
Shit.
He couldn’t sit. He couldn’t do that. Pacing to keep up with his frenetic thoughts, he tried to figure out where to start. “I’ve never talked about it with anyone.” But Avery wasn’t just anyone, and he knew it, whether he ever admitted it to her or not.
“You can talk to me about anything. I promise.”
She wanted him to. She’d feel rejected if he didn’t. Without looking at her, he said, “I was about twelve when I got the burn.”
“It’s from a cigarette?”
Her gentle voice washed over him. “Yeah.” Moving back and forth in front of her, Rowdy tried to sum it up without too much fanfare. “They wanted to go out.” His muscles knotted, ached. “They wanted to take Pepper. I said no.”
“You stood up to them even when you were that young?”
When it came to Pepper, yeah. He’d fought tooth and nail. The memories made his chest squeeze tight so that breathing became more difficult. Not memories of pain, because any real physical hurt had passed long before the f**king, insolvable weight of impossibility. He’d thought to have a lifetime of fighting them.
Luckily, that hadn’t happened.
“I did what I could. I was a big kid, and Dad was drunk, so I blocked the doorway. I dunno, I think I had a bat or something.” It was so damned stupid. So...Jesus, impossible.
“You would have hit him?”
“Would have. Did. More than once.” He’d fought back, and he’d fought for Pepper. “Didn’t usually do me much good. While I was yelling, telling them to leave her, she was crying and struggling to get loose.” And finally she had. “Pepper got out the door past me. She knew to go to the river. That’s where we’d hang out ’til the folks were out of sight. But I was so focused on her getting away, I didn’t see my mom reach past Dad. She was a regular chimney, always smoking...”
Avery covered her mouth, her hand shaking. “She burned you on purpose.”
“She was pissed. Said I always caused such a fuss.” He’d lurched away and run after Pepper, but he hadn’t told her. Hell, he didn’t want to tell Avery, either. He’d hidden the burn with his shirt and given thanks that the folks had left without any more trouble.
“Will you please sit with me?”
She looked so fragile, so upset, Rowdy found himself beside her before he remembered that he needed to move, needed to walk off the gnawing bite of the memory.
He tipped up her chin and tried teasing her. “Don’t you dare cry.” A quick kiss to her soft mouth felt so good that he went back for another. “It didn’t even hurt that much. We swam in the river and the water was cold.... It healed up pretty quick.”
She crawled right up into his lap and tucked her face into his neck. “They stayed gone most of the night?”
“All night and half the next day.” Putting his chin to the top of her head, he rubbed up and down her narrow back. “It was always easier without them hanging around anyway. I remember Pepper slept in my room that night, curled up at the foot of my bed, which was sort of funny since we were both tall even then. I blocked the door, just in case the folks did come back, and we camped out like it was a treat.” He shook his head, even found a grin. “Pepper was always great about that, making shit out to be an adventure instead of...”
“So ugly.”
And eternal. “Yeah.”
Her arms reached around him, and she touched another scar. “This is from a belt buckle?”
He shrugged. “I was tussling with Dad when I was about ten. Young. I barely remember what he was mad about, but I almost never took it without giving back some grief. He’d said he was done with me not listening. I don’t think he meant for the buckle to hit me, but he was hammered and could barely stay on his feet when he started swinging.”