Bound and Unbroken Page 2

  Her stomach tightened, and she wondered if she would keep her grasp on self-control. She twisted to see his face, but his tight grip on her shoulders didn’t allow for much movement.

  “It’s just a cab ride,” he reminded her of the same thing she’d been repeating to herself.

  The cool early-October wind picked up, and Lena shuddered. Rusty released her to rub away the goosebumps on her arms.

  The taxi pulled into the lot and stopped near the entrance to the bar. Rusty opened the back door on the driver’s side and let Lena in first, then took the seat behind the driver. He rattled off the name of the hotel, and the bar quickly disappeared from view.

  Rusty took her hand, tracing his thumb against the inside of her wrist, then he tugged her closer and switched hands, taking her left arm in his left hand, and pushing the hair away from her neck.

  “Come here,” he whispered and her body moved to obey.

  She wondered how far she would let him go, and how far he’d be willing to go in the back of the cab. As she moved, he slid his arm down around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She glanced around; she couldn’t see the driver in the rear view mirror, so she assumed he couldn’t see her either. Her chest tightened as the feeling of an electric charge settled around her collarbone.

  “Easy, Loner. I’m not aiming for a public indecency charge. All I want is a kiss.”

  “This is a lot of work for a kiss.”

  “More fun that way.” He drew her sideways so that he could pull both of her hands behind her back and stretch her across his lap. She felt his lips at her ear as he whispered, “If you want me to stop, say driver.”

  She glanced to the front of the car again, only able to see the driver’s greying hair. Rusty’s fingers trailed down her neck, and she gasped.

  Are you really letting this happen?

  More than letting it happen, she wanted it to happen, and her body was reveling in the sensation. She tugged at her restrained arms, not nearly enough to break free—more to check his grip. He leaned toward her lips until she could feel his hot breath, and smell the lingering bite of alcohol, but he stopped just short of kissing her.

  She pulled forward trying to close the distance, but his grasp kept her impossibly disconnected. He studied her face for a moment, lingering on her eyes, then smirked and claimed her lips, sucking her bottom lip as he moved away. His right hand moved down to the top of her thigh, and before she could think of catching her breath he captured her mouth again, thrusting his tongue against her lips until she opened for him. She could taste the beer on his breath, but if all beer tasted like that, it was another point in favor of trying the stuff again. He squeezed her leg, then released her wrists. She almost grunted in shock, but as the bright lights beyond the cab windows caught her eye, she realized where they were—pulling into the parking lot of the inn.

  She righted herself, but Rusty brushed his thumb against her jaw, drawing her face to him again. He kissed her forehead. “Nice to meet you, Loner.”

  “You did that on purpose.”

  “Of course I did.”

  Shooting him a glare, she tensed her jaw and smoothed her clothes. “I’m still not coming to your room.”

  She waited for him to argue, but he smiled an open, genuine smile that would have knocked her off her feet had she been standing. “I didn’t expect that you would. I respect that.”

  Lena closed her eyes and shook her head.

  “Did I at least succeed in taking your mind off your problems?”

  Struck by nerves, Lena smiled back. She didn’t know how to respond. “Why…?”

  “A loner who doesn’t like sports or alcohol in a sports bar on a Friday night. I wanted to show you a good time.”

  “You were playing me because you thought I was a lonely girl in a bar?”

  “I said loner, not lonely. And I wasn’t playing you. I enjoyed spending the night with a beautiful woman, and I’d do it again.” With a peck on her lips, he slid out of the car. “Have a good night, Loner.”

  He slipped the driver double his fare, he instructed him to “take the lady home.” After watching Rusty disappear through the hotel doors, she realized the driver would need her address. “518 Bruce Street,” she said, wondering how much of their escapade the driver had noticed.

  She slumped down in the seat, her brain still trying to figure out the night and her body still reeling from his touch. Her knuckles slid across the cool glass, and she caught s a glimpse of her reflection—her own smile and eyes sparkling back. Whatever this night had been, she couldn’t deny that she’d enjoyed his effort. She’d felt Rusty pulling her along all night, and she reveled in it, most of the time even pushing back without hesitation.

  A few minutes later, the cab pulled to the curb in front of her house. Surprisingly, Jeremiah’s motorcycle still wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “You want the change?” The driver asked as she stepped out of the car. She jumped at his words, having somehow blocked out his existence during the ride.

  “Nah. Keep it.” She didn’t look back, keeping her eyes on the door as if Jeremiah had hidden his motorcycle and would jump out to ambush her with questions at any second.

  Inside the house, she locked the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and slipped her house key onto a hook in the kitchen doorway. She stripped off her clothes on the way to the bathroom and shoved them into the hamper, before turning on a stream of water. Without waiting, she stepped in, letting the cold drops beat at her feet as the water warmed.

  ***

  Lena heard movement in the living room as soon as she turned off the shower. She pushed open the shower door, pulled a thick grey towel off the rack, and wrapped it around herself, before attempting to slip out and get to her bedroom before Jeremiah noticed her.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” He called out as soon as she opened the door.

  So much for sneaking by. She squeezed her eyes closed and waited in the doorway, just out of sight.

  They had lived together for years, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen her in a towel, but seeing him tonight made her more vulnerable. “I wasn’t doing anything you haven’t done. We talked, we had some drinks, and we shared a cab.”

  “What if he was a crazy psycho?”

  “He wasn’t. I’m home, and I’m fine. What’s up with the double standards?”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Yes, big brother. I get that, but I didn’t. I do have common sense, you know. I’m tired of letting insecurities dictate my every move. I just wanted to have fun. And, I did.”

  She heard Jeremiah’s footsteps move back toward the kitchen, so she took the opportunity to sprint across the hall to her room.

  Her mind still teetered on a razor’s edge, trying to decide whether Rusty was a complete jerk or a guy with quirky but good intentions, and Jeremiah’s questions wouldn’t help. She pulled on her soft flannel pajamas and squeezed the extra water from her hair. She’d hoped the shower would tame her hyperactive nerves and give her a moment to gain some perspective, but nothing seemed to quench the feeling in her gut begging for a release.

  As she pulled back her bedspread, Jeremiah knocked on her door.

  “Come on in.”

  “I’m sorry. You know I trust your judgment.” The doorframe creaked as he leaned his tall, muscular body against it. The only time he usually took on the huge teddy-bear look was when the two of them were alone, and he was trying to get inside her head.

  She picked up a pillow and hit her frustration into it. “Sometimes, I wonder.”

  “So, what’s his name?”

  “Why?” She tossed the pillow down, wrapping her arms across her chest. “Are you going to have one of your buddies check him out?”

  “I won’t,” he put his hands up in surrender and finally ventured another few feet into her room. “But you can’t hold it against me if I want to know the name of the man who made you this frazzled.” />
  “I am not frazzled,” she said, but even she was unconvinced by it. “I don’t know his name. He went by Rusty.”

  “Rusty?”

  “Yep.” She smacked her lips. “And, I didn’t give him my name either. We were just having fun.”

  “You trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She flopped on the bed and tucked her cold toes under the blanket. “I won’t see him again either way. He was staying in a hotel, so I doubt he’s sticking around.”

  Jeremiah eyed her for a few seconds, then nodded and headed for the door. “Well, I’m going to shower, want to watch a movie before bed?”

  Lena pulled up her blankets and snuggled down. A movie would leave the opportunity for more talking and all she wanted to do was to be alone. “I’m going to pass out.”

  “Uh huh, that’s a new name for it.”

  She picked up the stuffed penguin from her nightstand and chucked it at his head as he ducked into the hallway, pulling the door closed to protect himself against further attacks.

  Lena

  Lena wandered through the empty halls of the elementary school, twenty minutes left until the closing bell and her class was spending the rest of the day with the music teacher. That left Lena with time to run a few errands and then enjoy some quiet reading, but as she rounded the last corner, she ran into a hard chest.

  “Sorr—” She stepped back.

  “You know,” the familiar man crossed his arms over his chest, “I'd make a crack about loners wandering the halls of the school but—”

  “Rusty…” Her intestines coiled up and released in less time than it took to blink. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for Mrs. Cook.”

  “I… You took a wrong turn. It's back…” Lena pointed. Why was it so hard to form a complete sentence? “This way.”

  She didn't check to see if he was following as she navigated through the school and turned down the first hall. “Next door on the right.”

  “Thanks.” Rusty stopped next to her as if needing a second to brace himself before stepping through the door.

  Or maybe he paused for another reason.

  She felt her breath squeeze through her tight chest. If she looked up and tried to gauge what he was thinking, she'd lose the ability to think.

  But, what the hell? For the most part, she already had.

  His face looked years older than it had only a few days ago. Although, she hadn’t exactly seen him under bright fluorescent lights last time, his eyes seemed hard, and expression frayed.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  He looked down at her as if surprised she was still standing there, and his face softened. “I guess so, been a while since I've been called in to visit a teacher.” He winked—a futile attempt at being coy.

  There was still something off about him. As Rusty turned to put his back against the wall, Lena’s eyes began to wander, while purposely avoiding the small visitor identification tag that hung around his neck.

  “Good luck,” was all she could think to say before she turned and retreated down the hall to her room. Back to the safe quiet where she hoped to lose herself in the world of a book. But the book was no longer the main subject on her mind. That was all Rusty. And the stream of questions bombarding her brain seemed endless

  Why was he at the school? That one seemed obvious. He had a kid. And one in Mrs. Cook's class—first grade. At least seven years old….

  Unfortunately, that didn’t seem like a long shot. And worst of all, a kid meant a significant other. He could be married.

  She tried to force the thought away. He hadn’t been wearing a ring—at least she didn’t think so. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t been paying much attention. Even if he and this significant other weren’t together anymore, that was complicated enough.

  She reminded herself that she and Rusty were not together. It was a one-night brush with a man she'd never see again—but that was completely mucked up now.

  Lena collapsed in her chair and stared at the book tucked away in her papers. Instead of picking it up, she sat back and rubbed her hands over her face. Her serene mood was ruined, and her brain once again teetered between opposing emotions unable to decide if she was excited to see him or completely crushed.

  With fifteen minutes until the final bell, she buried her book in the top desk drawer and began straightening out her desk, resorting to organizing pens and paper clips by the time the bell signaled the end of the day. As the kids herded through the hallway toward the gym to line up for their busses, she sat back and watched the chaos. Just last month she’d been the center of that chaos as the bus monitor for the month.

  Welcome to your new job, we’re throwing you right into the pit of piranhas. Her time as an indentured servant only lasted a month, and she wouldn’t have to do it again until next year, but next up came lunchroom duty and eventually there would be breakfast duty to watch over all of the early arrivers. Only when having to deal with the kids in groups of a hundred or more did she question her sanity for becoming a teacher.

  When the hallways cleared, she was still lost in thought, bouncing a pencil against the desktop.

  What the hell am I even waiting for? The pencil clattered to the desk, and she pulled her bag out of the bottom drawer, slinging it over her shoulder and looking up just in time to see Rusty walk by her door. His hands tucked into his pockets, head down, walking towards the front of the school.

  Run after him or wait until there's enough distance?

  She turned the corner into the hallway and saw his back. “Rusty,” she barely had to raise her voice for it to carry through the empty hallway.

  His head snapped up, and he looked back. “I thought the Loner was usually in a hurry to get out of school at the end of the day.”

  “If that were the case, I wouldn't have started teaching,” she said, closing the distance between them.

  “You were the freak who liked school, huh?” Half of his mouth curled up, but even his voice seemed uneven and tired.

  “Are you really okay?”

  He laughed, and leaned against the wall to face her. “I’m fine, just tired.”

  A kid sped around the corner, almost tripping over the rug and into the glass door.

  “Jeffrey, no running.” Teacher mode immediately kicked in. He wasn’t usually one of her students, but she had him a few times last year while she was subbing—a quiet child, who always seemed to find trouble.

  “Yes, Ms. Ross.” The child lowered his head and ducked through the door as quickly as he could, but Lena's breath caught in her throat at the sound of her name.

  “The Loner has a last name,” Rusty mused.

  “And you have a kid,” Lena said with more venom than intended.

  Rusty's eyes widened, but his unbalancing smirk didn't fade.

  Lena readjusted the bag on her shoulder--she hadn’t meant to call him out on it, but there was no turning back. “Come on, why else would you be here?”

  “I have a nephew.”

  Guilty of letting her assumptions get the better of her, Lena’s face fell, but her heart fluttered. “Oh.”

  “My name is Eric, by the way.” He flashed his ID badge before pulling it off his neck and sticking it into a drop box by the office door.

  The flutter in her chest turned into a staccato beat that threatened to shake through her chest, but her mouth refused to open. This quaint anonymity concept she’d been holding onto was fading faster than she could process.

  He moved toward her, nudging her across the hall until it was her back against the wall. “I could just call you Ms. Ross.”

  There were other downsides to being a teacher. The first being, she hated when people called her that. “Lena.”

  The smile returned to his eyes, “Nice to meet you, Lena.”

  “If you came here for your nephew, where is he?”

  “He's not feeling well. I came to pick up his assignment list
and talk with his teacher.” He held up a manila folder as evidence.

  “What a sweet uncle you are—” Lena halted, sensing a major crack in the innocent illusion. “Wait a minute, then why a hotel room?”

  “I just moved back to town and my house wasn't ready.” He took her hand and pulled her a step closer. “Can I walk you out?”

  Despite her mental objections, her body was eager to comply. He pushed the door open, letting her exit first, then joined her at the top of the stone stairway. Just beyond where they stood, the parking lot was still clogged with teachers and staff, blocked in by parents who refused to park in the appropriate lot to pick up their kids.

  Eric stopped next to her. “I can't say I picture you in any of these cars.”

  “I'm waiting on my ride.”

  “I can give you one.”

  Lena smacked his arm. “Is everything you say coated in innuendo?”

  “Ah,” he grunted, rubbing his arm. “No. I was being serious. My Land Rover is right over there.”

  “I didn't hit you that hard. But maybe I should have, does no one notice the huge sign that says staff and faculty only?”

  “If you don’t drive that means there’s an empty spot, right? Besides, it’s not like I got here at a time where staff and faculty are looking for a place to park. What’s with the attitude today?”

  As his gaze moved over her, she pulled herself in again, tucking her arms around herself and focusing on the distant parking lot. She wasn’t going to admit that he was the cause of her attitude—her fantasy night with an anonymous man who went by Rusty crushed by the reality that he had a name and a life in her own hometown. She rolled her shoulders and her back popped, letting her muscles relax. “It’s just annoying.”

  “I’ll remember” Eric leaned back against the concrete barrier and crossed his ankles, laying the folder of homework next to him. He obviously had no intention of leaving and letting her wait in peace.

  “Why didn’t you drive to the bar Friday night?”

  “My car was full of junk and I didn’t feel like messing with it.”