Her breath sucked in as the hammer sailed across the room and crashed into a newly framed wall.
"No, you didn't do a damn thing. You just got yourself tossed around, bruised, bloodied up and damn near raped. Why the hell should that bother me?"
Someone had to be calm, she told herself. Obviously, the way his eyes were glowing, it was going to have to be her. "I know you're upset about what happened."
"Yeah, I'm upset." He picked up the toolbox, heaved it, because it made more sense than throwing her around. Metal and steel crashed and scattered like small bombs. "I'm just a little upset. Now get out."
"I won't." Instead she angled her chin. "Go ahead, big guy, throw something else. When you've got it out of your system, we'll have a civilized conversation."
"You'd better get it through that thick head that there's nothing civilized about me."
"Oh, that's coming through loud and clear," she tossed back. "What's next? You want to take a shot at me? That should prove you're a bigger man than JoeDolin."
His eyes went black. For an instant, a heartbeat, she thought she saw hurt mixed with the rage. And it shamed her. "I'm sorry." Fumbling, she lifted her hands. "You didn't deserve that. I didn't mean that."
Now there was only rage, viciously controlled. "You usually say what you mean." He held up a hand before she could speak again. "You want to have a conversation, fine. We'll have a damn conversation."
He strode to the door, simmering when she flinched. Yanking it open, he bellowed to every corner of the rambling house. "Out! Everybody out, now!"
He slammed the door again, satisfied by the scramble of feet and the clatter of tools.
"There's no need for the work to stop," she began. "I'm sure this will only take a few minutes."
"Sometimes it just can't be your way."
"I don't know what you mean."
"No, I don't guess you do." Disgusted, he hauled open the door again. "Somebody give me a damn cigarette," he shouted. But as there was no one brave enough to approach, he ended up slamming the door again.
Regan watched, quietl
y fascinated, while he paced and swore. His shirt was shoved up to the elbows, a tool belt was slung at his hips like a holster. He'd wrapped a bandanna around his forehead to catch the sweat. He looked, she thought, like a bandit who would just as soon kill as steal.
And it was certainly ridiculous to be aroused.
"I could make coffee," she began, then let out a breath at the razor-edged look he shot her. "Maybe not. Rafe—"
"Just shut up."
Her back jammed straight as a poker. "I don't care to be spoken to that way."
"Get used to it. I've held back long enough with you."
"Held back?" Her eyes went wide. If he hadn't looked like a maniac, she might have laughed "You've been holding back? I'd like to see what you consider cutting loose."
"You're about to." He gnawed off the words like stringy meat from a bone. "You're ticked off that I left? Well, now you're going to be treated to what would have happened if I'd stayed."
"Don't you touch me." Her arms shot up, hands fisted like those of a boxer ready to spar. "Don't you dare."
Eyes simmering, he closed a hand over her fist and used his leverage to push her back to the door. "Same goes, darling. I gave you a chance to walk, you didn't take it."
"Don't call me darling in that tone of voice."
The way his lips peeled back, she wouldn't have been surprised to see fangs. "God, you're a piece of work." He tossed her hand down and walked away, because it was safer for both of them. "You want to know why I left. That's the big, burning question, isn't it? That's what had you coming over here? Coming to me?"
"Yes."
"But you didn't come to me this morning when he threatened you. You didn't come to me when he hurt you." And that, Rafe thought, however it devastated him, was that.