“It’s not all that matters,” Crusher argues, but I ignore him.
“If I’m not here I can keep King looking in other directions. I know how my brother works. It’s best for all involved—especially Ryan—if I leave,” I respond and I don’t even care that it practically sounds like I’m pleading with him.
I am desperate. I’ve been here for two weeks and there are several reasons I need to leave. The first, and most important, is that Diesel will be back before long. I have no idea when, because I refuse to take his calls and I won’t ask the others about him. I know that they are working on a room close to his. They’re putting exercise equipment in it and things of that nature. That tells me he will be here sooner rather than later.
That means I need to be gone.
“Rory—”
“Crusher, you don’t know my brother. I need to be out there pulling his attention away from finding Ryan.”
“You’re not putting yourself in danger. You did that already to protect him and we’re all more grateful than I could ever tell you, but that’s not happening again.”
“It’s not your choice,” I argue back.
“Rory, I’m protecting you and I’m going to do it no matter what kind of fit you throw. So, how about you do me a favor and let it go for now.”
“I don’t need protecting. Ryan does. I told you, I’m not important here—”
“The fuck you aren’t.”
My body locks as I hear Diesel from behind me. I feel like my knees might give out on me. I turn around slowly—dreading to face him, but knowing I don’t have a choice.
“You’re back.”
The words form, but they feel like molasses, sticking against my tongue and are hard to force out. I just thank my lucky stars they don’t come out as breathless as I feel. Diesel looks good. He’s gained a little more weight, some of his muscle tone is back and although he still looks pale, the improvement in him is a million times better. His mane of hair is pulled up on top of his head, some of it falling down surrounding his face and with that ferocious look on his face he reminds me of a lion. You want to run your fingers through that mane and touch him to see if it is soft, but you know if you do that you’ll get your hand taken off.
“And thank God you are. Because now you can deal with your woman,” Crusher says, standing up so quick his chair falls back and clangs loudly on the floor. “I’m out,” he says shaking his head. “Take it easy on each other,” he cautions and with a slap on Diesel’s back leaves us alone, closing the door.
“I’m not your woman,” I tell him, denying Crusher’s words.
“You are.”
“Not anymore. You had a decision, you made a choice. That ship has sailed.”
“I want another chance.”
“That’s not happening,” I tell him, terror—the likes of which I’ve never felt—slashes through me, and with everything I’ve been through that means something.
“I’ll earn it,” he says and I ignore the way that makes my heart speed up.
“There’s nothing to earn, because that’s not happening,” I reply and I take a step back as he advances toward me. He’s walking. That realization hits me, although it should have before. Still, that’s the thought that I have as he takes the two steps between us. I back up, but my legs hit the desk, the edge of it pressing against my ass. “You’re walking,” I whisper.
“A little limp, but I’ll get stronger and it will be gone,” he acknowledges. He reaches out his hand, and his finger slides against my cheek, wrapping against a strand of my hair. He leans his head down like he’s about to kiss me.
“Diesel if you bring those lips any closer, I’m going to cause an injury to your body so severe that all your progress might stop,” I warn him quietly.
He freezes and I swear there’s a spark of laughter that shows up in those brown depths of his eyes.
The bastard.
“Point made,” he whispers. “We are going to talk, Rory. You can’t stop that from happening.”
“You’re wrong. I can stop it if I’m not here.”
“You’re not leaving.”
“It’s against the law to hold someone against their will, Diesel.”
“Noah,” he corrects.
“Diesel,” I respond, stubbornly.
“Careful, Rory. I always did like a challenge.”
“I’m not a challenge, Diesel. I’m nothing, just someone you used and threw away.” I respond, walking around him.
I’m surprised when he just lets me go. If I want to be honest with myself, I might be a little disappointed too. He does stop me once I open the door.
“Rory?” he prompts.
“What?” I ask, looking at him and holding onto the doorknob for dear life.
“I happen to think you’re everything,” he says, delivering words I didn’t expect and words that I do my best to not believe.