DARE: A Bad Boy Romance (19 page)

Or maybe he didn’t have them and she was being paranoid and seeing violence in every man’s shadow. Being around men full stop was probably not a good idea right now. They all had a bit of Trey in them.

One thing she knew for certain was she was tired. Tired of hurting and feeling helpless and of being afraid of the future.

What she needed was to disappear into her fog for a while—that insensible fog where nothing sharp or definite could reach her—and drift, just drift, until all this was over.

Holly felt his gaze on her, but she refused to look at him. He said something she didn’t quite catch, then he got up and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

Can’t you see I want to be on my own? Can’t you see this is too painful? Why can’t you just go away and let me deal with this.

Then he did leave, and she glanced around the empty, strange room. The fog did not return as she wanted. Things were too sharp, too defined. They were all too real. And she felt isolated, afraid. She really
did
want someone with her. But he was gone now. Maybe he’d never be coming back. She hadn’t exactly made him feel welcome. On the contrary, she’d practically eighty-sixed him with her outraged ice queen routine.

Christ. Would she ever see him again? Had she gone and lost both the men in her life?

Holly’s neck started to burn. Every time she inhaled it felt like a flint was striking metal partway up her throat. She reached around for the pain relief injection button and found it on her right side. She pressed it. It wasn’t long before the fog began to swallow her up, and everything in the room lost its definition. It was just easier in the fog. Softer. Simpler. Then she realized Trey, in his own way, had been on his own as much as she was now. The only difference was, his fog had not been so kind, so forgiving. No, it had taken away everything she’d loved about him.

She only hoped this ordeal wouldn’t take away everything Dare liked about her. The idea wasn’t as maudlin as it sounded either. Maybe it was even inevitable.

Hell, she already hated herself.

There was something…off about the espresso from the coffee machine in the hospital’s waiting room. A weird metallic taste that was guaranteed to stay with him for the rest of the day. But his energy levels were for shit—he’d barely slept since the incident—so he paid for a second cup, determined to stay focused. This was a tricky time, he knew, when Holly’s trauma was setting off firecrackers in her brain. Consciously, she was still trying to make sense of what had happened; subconsciously, her brain was putting up its defensive coping mechanisms. The two would be at odds with one another for some time.

He should know. He’d attended those mandatory counseling sessions after his voluntary discharge from the Corps, and his shrink had explained what he, Finn, and likely some of the others had been going through. Trauma was an insidious thing. It worked away at you inside, doing most of its damage without you being aware of it. The wig-outs and the nightmares were like the tip of the iceberg; the really dangerous stuff lurked under the surface, hidden from view, ready to sink anyone who got too close.

So what could he do to help? Staying away indefinitely wasn’t an option. Holly might drift out of his life altogether if he didn’t prove he was there to support her. But saying the wrong thing at the wrong time might set off the one firecracker that alienated her from him for good. She was clearly linking him to what had happened on some level. Maybe coming to see her so soon had not been a smart move after all.

Christ, there was no rulebook for any of this. And it would be a while before she could even tell him how she was feeling, what she was thinking. Until then, he would just have to infer.
Not
one of his strong suits. Then again, she was worth the effort,
any
effort it took to keep on seeing her.

The big question now was: did she want to keep on seeing
him
?

Despite the doubts rattling around inside him—not to mention the double metallic espresso—he began to nod, as he stared at the soothing baby blue wall.

“Sleep when you’re dead, slacker.”

Dare sat up and blinked himself back to life. The clean-cut guy stooping in front of the coffee machine wore a navy blue hoodie and black jeans. “Finn? What are
you
doing here?”

“Thought I’d drop in and see how you’re holding up.”

Dare knew he was missing several key steps in this rendezvous, but he was too tired to figure them out. “How did you find me?”

Finn shook the sugar in its paper bag, then emptied it into his cup of tea. “You’d switched your phone off when I rang, so I got in touch with your agent.”

“Duke?”

“Uh-huh. He told me where I could find you.”

“Very…resourceful of you.”

“Not really.” Finn removed his hood and sat beside Dare, sipping his drink. “I heard what happened with Oregon and his old lady. Then I remembered you were seeing her. Holly, right?”

“Right. She was at my house when Oregon snatched her. I only just got to her in time.”

“So it was all over before you got there?”

Dare nodded gravely.

“Jesus. She was lucky then,” said Finn.

“That’s what I said. But she fucking hated that I used that word.”

“I can’t think of another.”

“Me either, brother,” said Dare. “Me either. I guess sometimes it’s best to say nothing.”

Finn was silent.

“But hey, thanks for coming. Appreciate it.” Dare suddenly felt hungry. He eyed the vending machine. As he got up, he asked, “Want anything?”

“Nah, man. I’m good. Had a KFC on my way over.”

Dare bought a pack of potato chips and a pack of mini Oreos. “How much did Duke tell you?”

“That you took off like Liam Neeson in
Taken
and probably ran every red light in the city. What else? Oh yeah, that he helped find the address for you. He sounded proud. Not a bad guy, huh?”

“Duke’s alright. He always comes through.”

“And you?” asked Finn. “How are you holding up?”

Dare shrugged. “Still here, I guess.”

“She means a lot to you.”

Dare was silent. He turned Finn’s loaded remark over in his mind and realized he’d alluded to the same thing in his own answer. Dare’s first marriage had been brief. It had not ended well because he
hadn’t
been there enough. He hadn’t been ready to put down roots and put her before his career. He felt shitty about that now, but that was who he’d been at the time. What he’d ultimately wanted.

It got him to thinking: had he really changed since then?

“Have you heard from Celeste at all?” Dare asked.

“No. Why?” Finn’s defenses were up, just like during their one-on-one the other week.

“Because I was just thinking about Stacey and about what happened the last time I got stuck on a chick.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Dare looked at his friend askance. “You knew I was thinking about Stacey?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who are you, Magneto?”

Finn chuckled. “I think you mean Professor X.”

“Whatever.” Damn those fifty million X-Men characters; Jennifer Lawrence in blue body paint was the only one worth remembering anyway. “You were thinking about her, too. Stacey, I mean.”

“She crossed my mind when I heard you were still here.” Finn finished the last of his tea, crushed the paper cup and tossed it in the trash. A good shot from fifteen feet away. “I don’t recall it happening that way with Stacey. No offence.”

“None taken. But fuck you for saying it anyway.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dare’s turn to chuckle. It had often been like this between him and Finn—home truths wrapped in sharp throwaway banter. They knew how to cut each other to the quick and somehow get away with it with a cheeky turn of phrase. He’d missed that. Ossie was the closest thing he had to it in his ring corner. But there was only one “Cork.”

“I didn’t
intend
for her to make her own way home,” he insisted. “I just lost track of time.”

Finn nodded sarcastically. “Your wife drinks two bottles of wine because you left her home alone on date night, winds up in hospital with alcohol poisoning, and you leave her there to go run a marathon at the crack of dawn. Brother, you’re a credit to the ring finger. It’s right next to the finger you actually showed her that morning.”

“It wasn’t the end of the world. And I was in training. She knew that.”

“Oh, she knew that alright.” Finn threw him a wink. “I think you even wrote that on your divorce papers:
Sorry, I’m in training right now; I’ve only got time to leave my signature.
”

Dare shook his head. “I’m glad you find it so amusing. Allow me to repay the favor sometime.”

“You’ve changed is all I’m saying.”

“You reckon? I’m not so sure.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Finn.

Dare took his time opening the Oreos packet. It was one of those annoyingly tough wrappers; the ends were too small for him to get a decent grip on, and he didn’t want to force it open and send the cookies flying all over the floor. In the end, he bit it open with his teeth.

“Why do you not think you’ve changed?” Finn reiterated.

“I don’t know. The way things turned out. I mean, how many women have I dated, and how many of those numbers are still in my cell phone?” He shrugged again.

“Um, I’m guessing that was a rhetorical question, but I’ll hazard a guess at
a lot
and
not many.
”

“Now ask yourself why that is.”

Finn sighed. “I don’t see why you have to lump this girl in with all those who’ve gone before. Why can’t she be the exception?”

“That’s just it. I think she might
be
the exception. I’m crazy about her.” It was the first time Dare had admitted that out loud to anyone, and he didn’t regret it.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I think maybe I’m not cut out for anything permanent. You saw how I was with Stacey, how I couldn’t be what she wanted. That hurt her, more than I realized at the time. I was a cold, selfish son of a bitch, and I should’ve never gotten married.” He paused. “Thanks for not disagreeing, bro. Jesus.”

“Keep going,” Finn told him. “I’ll stop you when you’re wrong.”

“You’re all heart.”

“You weren’t—not with Stacey. But go on.”

“I guess I just don’t want that to happen to Holly. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s been through too much already.”

“Again, why does that
have
to happen to Holly?” asked Finn. “You’re not a Marine anymore; you’re not itching to go overseas. And she knows the deal—she’s lived with a professional fighter. The hotels, the crazy routines, the publicity—she knows what’s in store. The only way you’re going to surprise her is by not fucking betraying her trust like that last asshole she was with. I realize that’s a big ask for a dick like you, but stranger things have happened. After all, like you said, you’re still here.”

“But how do I know I’ll still be here a year from now? Or six months. How do I know if she even wants another fighter around after the shit she’s just been through?”

“That’s up to her, isn’t it?”

Dare didn’t respond.

“And how do you know you’ll still be with her six months from now?” Finn retrieved his wallet, took out a twenty-dollar note. “If you tell her how you feel and don’t leave anything out—
anything
—I’ll bet you twenty bucks you’re still together in six months’ time.”

“Really? You’re that confident I’ve changed?”

“I
know
you’ve changed. The same way I know I’ve changed. The only question is: can you accept that you’ve changed and like it?”

Dare thought about for a moment, then spluttered a laugh. “You should charge by the hour. Jesus Christ.”

“Hehe! Too much time in the company of shrinks, huh. I guess some of it rubbed off.”

“I guess so. But you really think I have a shot this time? You really think I’m not gonna fuck it up?”

Finn smiled a knowing smile. “The fact that you’re asking that question is proof enough that you’re willing to at least try. Also that you think she’s worth it.”

“She’s loyal. She spent years with a guy who didn’t treat her right. And it didn’t kill her spirit. Not one bit.”

“Then you’ll have to make sure
you
treat her right.”

“I just don’t know how she’s going to be after this,” said Dare. “I mean, how can she ever be the same after this?”

“You might be surprised. She sounds resilient. People get over trauma all the time.” He bowed his head and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Some better than others, right?” He suddenly looked up, beaming. But it was false—the worst attempt at faking an emotion since his girlfriend’s death scene on that daytime murder soap.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” asked Dare. “I felt like
persona non grata
in there just now. What if that doesn’t change?”