The Return Of Rafe Mackade (The MacKade Brothers 1)

"I had to tell Devin," she began.

"Yeah. You had to tell Devin." Bitterly calm now, he turned back. "You know what I heard in that nice and detailed statement you made, Regan? Dolin came into your place this morning, just like I thought he would."

"And I handled it," she countered. "Just like I told you I would."

"Sure, you're great at handling things. He threatened you. He scared you."

"Yes, all right, he scared me." And she was scared now, too, she realized, of where this was leading. "That's why I called Devin."

"But not me. You went down to Devin's office, filed your charges."

"Yes, of course. I wanted Joe arrested."

"Nice and tidy. Then you went grocery shopping."

"I..." She linked her hands together, pulled them apart. "I thought—I knew Cassie was going to be upset, and I wanted... I just thought if I fixed a meal it would make us both feel better.''

"And in all that time, going to Devin's, to the market, walking there and back, you never stopped to call me. It never even occurred to you, did it?"

"I was—" She opened her mouth, closed it again. "All right, yes. It was my first reaction, but I calmed down and decided against it."

"You calmed down?"

"Yes, I realized it was my problem, and my responsibility to handle it."

Her simple honesty sliced through him like a blade. He could almost see himself split in half, one part rage, one part misery. "And after he had you, after he had his hands on you, and hurt you, tried to—"

He couldn't say it. If he did, he'd fall to pieces.

"You didn't think to call me then, either. I only heard it from Shane because he was in with Devin when the call came through, and he figured I'd be interested."

Somehow, she realized, she had hurt him. She'd never meant to. Hadn't known he could be hurt. "Rafe, I wasn't thinking at all." She started forward, stopped, knowing it would do no good to go farther. "I was numb. By the time I could really think again, I was in Devin's office. It all happened so fast," she said hurriedly, desperate now to make him see. To understand. "And part of the time it seemed as if I wasn't really there at all."

"You were handling it."

"I had to. It wouldn't have done any good to fall apart."

"You're real good at keeping yourself together." He walked over, picked up the hammer. "All by yourself."

"I have to be. I expect myself to be, because—"

"You don't want to be like your mother," he finished for her.

It sounded so callous, and so foolish. "All right, yes, that's partially true. It's important for me to be a certain way, but that really doesn't apply to this. If I didn't call you, it was only because..."

"You didn't need me." His eyes were level, and no longer hot. He had very little heat left inside him. "You don't need me."

A new kind of panic was twisting through her. "That's not true."

"Oh, the sex is great." He smiled then, coolly, hu-morlessly. "That's a need we handle together real well. It's my problem that I let it get personal. I won't make the mistake again."

"It's not about sex."

"Sure it is." He plucked a nail out of his pouch, set it in place. "It's been about sex right from the get-go. That's all we've got. It's plenty." He rammed the nail home. "You know where to find me when you've got the itch."

The blood drained from her cheeks and froze around her heart. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"Your rules, darling. Why complicate a good thing, right?"