But in that moment, with the weight of the mess my father had brought down into my life, and the acceptance that it had all cascaded into other people's lives, I suddenly felt unsure. I'd known people who had left others for less.
All Dex had done was help me from... well, nearly from the beginning. And everyone else before Dex that had cared about me had done the same and more.
Something that resembled fear gripped my neck in an intangible hold. “I'm so sorry.” The words were choked from a place in me that I usually stashed all of my regrets and worries. All I did was cause Dex headaches. Make him lose money. Time. Patience and credibility. He was under no obligation to put up with my shit. "I'm such a pain in the ass."
His entire body tensed. “Iris.”
I shifted to set my cheek against his. “You know my mom knew she had growths before she went to the doctor? She waited because we were always broke. Because I was sick and she had to pay my medical bills."
It was a miracle I wasn't sobbing as I spilled these things I shoved deep in me. "And my poor yia-yia had to sell her house so that we wouldn't go bankrupt when I got sick again. I had to come move in with Sonny because I was broke. And now you and the guys are suffering through all of this shit because of me."
Guilt, guilt, guilty, guilt, guilt.
"I'm so friggin' sorry, Dex. I never wanted any of this. I don't want any of you guys to get hurt. I don't even want to see my friggin' dad. Or get a fucking gun put up to my face. I don't—I don't—” It took every single inch of determination I had inside of my gut to keep from letting the broken words turn into a fractured cry. "I need to go back home to look for my dad."
The hand on top of my thigh stiffened, squeezing the lean muscle so hard it hurt. In a flash, Dex had flipped us over so that I was on my back and he was on his hands and knees above me, looking pretty murderous. Those cobalt colored eyes flashed angrily. "No."
"I have to."
He shook his head, staring hard. "No." He blinked. "Fuck no."
"Dex," I whispered, my voice sounding so much more pathetic than I wanted it to. "It's my responsibility. This needs to be over."
"He's there, Ritz, you heard Lu, but you're not goin' back." he insisted. “‘Specially not without me.”
It was my turn to blink in disbelief. "You'll go with me?"
"Yeah." Dex dropped his face down to catch my bottom lip in his, and if it wouldn't have been for that touch, I wouldn't have felt the way his hands trembled on my cheeks. The way his entire body shook.
I nodded at him, pulled between the urge to burst into tears at feeling so overwhelmed and the need to throw myself at him to feel the warm reassurance only he was capable of. Could I do it by myself? Yes. But did I want to? No.
I was in love with this guy. Completely, terrifyingly in love with him. And life suddenly seemed so short again. Would I want to live the rest of my life hiding behind my dad's shadow? Living out his mistakes? No. Absolutely not.
Dex must have seen something on my face that had him dropping his weight down on me. That warm naked body spread over my own nude one, his legs bracketed on either sides of mine, his arms caging me in. Ohmigod, Dexter Locke was naked on top of me. His nice, clean groin was resting on my stomach.
Brain dead. I was brain dead.
"You aren't leavin' alone," Dex demanded.
Oh hell. "I won’t."
Holding his weight on one bent arm, he cupped the side of my face. "You took ten years off my life today, baby," Dex said.
Oh man.
"Thought I was gonna have to go to jail for the rest of my life, babe," he whispered. His hand cupped my calf, demanding and hot. "We're gonna find that piece of shit you and Son got cursed with and we're gonna get this taken care of. You and me. Understand?”
Did I understand? Oh yes. I nodded.
Those brilliant blue eyes locked on mine. He breathed, “I don’t know what the fuck I’d do if somethin’ happened to you.” Dex squeezed my kneecaps. "Scared the livin’ shit outta me, and I’m gonna make sure your pa knows what that feels like."
A tremble engulfed every inch of my skin. It was slow but powerful, eating up my muscles and nerves like it was famished. The moment, his proclamation, all seemed like a dream. Like something that would have happened to the Iris Taylor I could have been in an alternate universe, if life had gone the way it was supposed to.
Did I care he was threatening my dad? In that moment, not really. I chose to ignore it because I wanted to be the one to hurt that selfish jerk.
Dex’s hands held me firmly. One hand slipped up to cup my cheek tenderly as he pressed his forehead to my temple. “I don’t ever wanna feel that way again.”
I think my heart cracked a little right then.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, placing my hand over the one he had high on my thigh. I wanted to tell him that I’d never been that scared either but I couldn’t. Not when Dex was opening up and telling me about his own fear. He wasn’t scared of anything. Not roaches, the dark, clowns, scary movies, the possibility of getting hurt. Nothing.
The fact that he’d been scared for me speared right through my gut.
He tipped his head to touch his lips to mine. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he murmured as his thumb brushed over my cheekbone. When I didn’t say anything in response, mainly because I was so wrapped up in his touch, he kissed the side of my mouth.
I, better than anyone, knew how unsteady life could be, but that was the beauty of it if you recognized the potential ahead of you. I had to appreciate the best things, the good man who intended to protect me, because it was real and present. Feminism be damned. I’d shouldered enough burdens alone, and let me tell you, it’s not easy.
Every nerve in my body was prepped for tears and choking emotions but I wrangled them in. I’d always considered myself strong, but on Dex’s lap with his arms around me despite the day I had, I felt invincible. I didn’t need tears. So I told him the truth that had grown roots right into the untilled section of my chest. Clear, concise, precise. “I know. I trust you.”
The movement of his hand faltered on my back. “Iris,” he whispered to my temple, his voice sounding like a croak.
This man. My heart swelled in a way that wasn't natural.
I squeezed my arms around the warmth cage of his ribs and mouthed the words I wouldn't let out of my mouth into his shirt.
Three little words that held all the power in the world.
Chapter Thirty-Four
"You want me to drive?"
I glanced at Dex sitting there, his wrist thrown loosely over the steering wheel. We'd been in Luther's truck for the last six hours and besides three pit stops, the old man—he wasn't amused when I called him that out loud—had been driving straight. He was like a man on a mission, insulting my slow driving skills the first time I'd asked him if he wanted to trade positions. His answer now, like it'd been before was the same. "I'm good."
I could rattle off plenty of things that were more than good about him but him driving for so long wasn't one of them.
The ache between my legs was a friendly reminder of one of them. As was the memory of his colored skin, and those little round studs on his Little Dexter, against me.
Ugh. It was all so hot, everything about him. My neck went warm.
"You all right over there?" he asked.
The jerk had a knowing little smile on his face. When he woke me up that morning, nearly spread out over my back, a hairy thigh tangled with mine, he'd been all hooded eyes and smug smiles. He'd ground his stiff erection against my butt in a slow circle.
And what did I do? I let him. So sue me. Even a recently former virgin knew when she was in the presence of a pretty penis. A long, perfectly thick penis.
Hell. What in the world was wrong with me? I'd gone from thinking about sex and having raging hormones right around the time of my period, to being unable to think about anything else besides all things naked-Dex related.
He'd drugged me. T
hat had to be it.
Okay, not really, but still. That thing was practically magical.
Unfortunately, the slow morning had come crashing down too quickly when his cell phone started ringing the moment he'd eased himself over me on his hands and knees. It was Luther. And it was Luther's offer to let us borrow his truck that had Dex and I packing up our stuff to head out.
Which was how we ended up halfway to Dade county with Dex hogging the steering wheel and being an all-knowing jerk.
"I'm fine," I answered, resting my back into the corner of the truck's seat and door. “You're sure you're not too tired to drive?"
He flicked those blue eyes over, his mouth flat. "I'm ready to get outta here."
In ten hours. "Okay," I told him with a shrug.
Dex let out a long deep breath, reaching across the console to grip my thigh. "Wanna get this shit over with, Ritz."
I'd tried my best not to worry about this mess over the course of the last few hours. Going to bed after crying all over Dex had been distracting, and I'd managed to fall asleep pretty quickly but that hadn't meant that I'd been in the clear. I'd woken up at least four times over the night, sweating, nervous, battling nightmare after nightmare of what had happened at the shop. Two out of those times, I'd looked over my shoulder to find Dex wide awake, too.
Whether he'd been asleep or if I'd tossed and turned and made enough noises to wake him up, I didn't know for sure. I didn't ask either. I had slipped my fingers close to his once, and he'd rubbed my back until I fell asleep again the second time. Chances were, he'd probably slept less than me.
And I could only imagine what his own thoughts had been.
Because I knew what I'd been thinking of when I gave myself the chance to. What if...
What if my dad didn't have the money?
We were driving out to Florida to find him, but what then? What would we do if he only had ten bucks to his name?
The reality of it was...I'd make him figure it out. The possibilities were endless, and my ruthlessness was as well. I sure as heck wasn't going back to Austin until this crap was resolved. When I accepted the possibility that he was broke, I thought of Blake passed out and bleeding on Pins' floor. And that's what kept me going. But...
I would always be a worry-wart at heart.
"What do you think the chances are that he has any money?" I asked Dex without even thinking about it.
The sigh he responded with wasn't exactly reassuring. "Pretty slim more than likely, babe."
Not what I wanted to hear. "What should I do if that's the case?"
"We'll figure it out," he said putting emphasis on the first word. "Depends on the situation."
Well. While that wasn’t exactly reassuring, at least I could mentally prepare myself for the truth. I wondered if we dragged Curt Taylor back, whether the gang would call it even. Or maybe… "Know anyone in the black market? I'm sure he could live without a kidney, gallbladder, or lung if he needs to," I said, scared to investigate whether or not I was serious. Something told me I was.
Dex chuckled, squeezing my thigh. "Like the way you think, Ritz."
"You think that makes me a bad person? That I'm not completely opposed to doing something extreme to get this mess straightened out?" It suddenly worried me how nonchalant I was being about the whole thing. Could I really let my dad do something like that? I didn't feel guilty. Not in the least.
"No." He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. “You can’t expect to care about somebody that hasn’t cared about you, babe. It’s only natural. Doesn’t help that he’s a fuckin’ moron on top of bein’ a piece of shit. I think you’ve wasted enough of yourself on him.”
I didn’t say anything as I thought over his words. Because he was right. Every time the old man made an appearance, he was like a harbinger of doom. The man was a human wrecking ball with no regard for others. And it was about time that I let him go completely. “You’re right.”
“Sure am,” Dex agreed with a small snort.
I groaned and leaned back into the seat, trying to relax. To ease myself out of this unholy grip that strained my emotions. “After he sells a few organs, maybe I can finally have a nice, normal life.”
Dex shot me a long side glance, his mouth twitching. "Baby, I don't know what you think normal is but you're gonna have a nice, safe life as soon as we get him. All right? You can bet on it." His tone was low, gravelly. He was mad, mad for me—in my honor, and my insides recognized it and thrived on his emotion.
I nodded. "All I want is just to not worry about things for a while." For as long as I could remember it'd been my health, my mom, my health again, yia-yia, raising Will, bills, my lack of employment, and now all of this. I'd skipped the part where some people went to school and focused on that. Where kids got to be kids instead of having to sit through radiation treatments and funeral services.
I wasn't complaining. I wouldn't. But... something so little wasn't much to ask for, right?
"Right now, I'd give my left bicep for my only worry to be whether or not to tell you that I ordered the wrong ink." I sighed.
He groaned, a smile cracking one side of his cheek and mouth. "Shit like that's under appreciated, ain't it?" he asked, letting his fingers drift a little higher up my thigh.
"Everyone takes things for granted, little things, big things—everything."
Dex made a humming noise of agreement. "I learned my lesson in jail. You have any idea how much I missed my smokes when I was locked up? Drivin' around? Takin' a fuckin' shower without worryin' about gettin' jumped?"
And if by 'jumped' he meant...
Not going there. No, siree. Especially not when I was pretty positive he was trying to connect with me and not scar me for life.
"Learned some patience in there, so I guess I shouldn't complain."
And...it was a miracle I wasn't drinking, otherwise I would have spit liquid all over the dash. "You? Patient?"
Dex huffed. "Yeah."
Cue my snort. A snort that ripped the serious silence we'd wrapped ourselves in. "I don't even want to know what you were like before twenty-five if you think you can say the 'p' word with a straight face."
The sideways look he gave me was a guilty one. He'd definitely been a huge pain in the ass in his younger days. D-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y.
I put up both my hands in praise. "Thank heavens I met you as an old man." I winked at him.
~ * ~ *
Weird.
Driving through the part of town I'd grown up in was just plain...weird. Strange. I'd driven down these streets a million times throughout my life. The very last time had been three months ago when I had accepted the fact that my unemployed butt was out of options—I was going to have to move in with Sonny since I'd been so adamant about not going with Lanie to Ohio. Driving to the cemetery where Mom and yia-yia were buried had been my official goodbye. At that time, I hadn't thought I'd ever make it back to Florida. What would be the point? I had no ties left there besides memories that were as good as they were bad.
Yet, here I was, in a vehicle with a man I would have never been capable of fabricating even in my dreams. In a place where I should have felt at home, but didn't any longer.
"This is all too weird," I whispered as we passed the convenience store I used to always pump gas at.
He watched me wearily. After the last half a million hours in the car, of which he drove all, I couldn't blame him for being darn near exhausted. I hadn't napped either but adrenaline and nerves had kept me going. My dad was here somewhere. Some seedy little place with the words Motor Inn at the end.
But we'd agreed to get some sleep before going hunting for the cause of all the recent hell.
"You all right?" he asked in a rough, tired voice.
"Yeah." We passed by the daycare I'd worked at immediately after finishing my last round of radiation. God, this place depressed me. "This is all just messing with my head. I should be excited to be here, but I'm not. I just want to go back to Austin."
> Dex nodded severely. "Nothin' wrong with that, babe. Kinda relieved I'm not gonna have to drag you back home with me."
I narrowed my eyes. "Drag me?"
"Yeah. Drag you." He huffed. "You ain't stayin' here even if you wanted." Dex paused and glanced over in my direction, those dark blue orbs intent. "I lived in Dallas and I missed Austin every day, even if I didn't miss all the Club bullshit and drama. Don't wanna give you a reason to miss this dump."
Under Locke Page 47