by Maya Banks
Sawyer broke in. “If you’re worried about being here alone again, that’s not going to happen.”
She shook her head. “I’m not worried about being alone. My concern is having a means of transportation. I don’t want to have to rely on one of you to get around. You’re busy. You have jobs. I have a job too.”
Cam and Sawyer exchanged uneasy glances, and Hutch spoke up before either of them could.
“I’ll take you over after breakfast.”
Sawyer shot him a dark glance, but Hutch ignored it. Reggie smiled gratefully at him and resumed eating. Hutch shrugged when both Cam and Sawyer pinned him with their stares.
Both of them should realize by now that trying to pigeonhole Reggie was the fastest way to push her away. And she’d already done way too much damn running. It was time to start pulling her in, not shoving her away.
CHAPTER 14
After breakfast, Regina went upstairs to shower and change. She stripped the brace from her wrist and flexed her hand experimentally. It was still tender, but the swelling had gone down.
She viewed her reflection in the mirror as she waited for the water to warm, and to her satisfaction, the bruising around her neck wasn’t nearly as visible. The dark purple had faded to light green and yellow with streaks of darker red. The mark on her face was barely noticeable. In a few more days, she’d be as good as new, and then maybe she could get back to work. Which reminded her that she needed to put in a call to the chief to get an update on the progress of the case.
She stepped into the shower and groaned in pleasure as hot water cascaded over her body. She scrubbed her hair and rinsed quickly before stepping out to dry off. Several minutes later, after dressing, she stepped back into the bathroom to try and tame her hair into some semblance of order. Finally she opted to push the curls back from her face and secure it with barrettes.
Then she set about trying to put the brace back on her wrist. After cursing and fighting the sticky Velcro, she tossed it aside in disgust. She didn’t need it anyway.
She hurried out of the bathroom in search of her shoes and quickly discovered that no amount of contorting allowed her to bend enough to put them on without causing considerable pain to her ribs. She posted a huge mental note to get her slip-ons from the house when she went to get her car.
With a resigned sigh, she collected the shoes and socks and headed downstairs.
“You’re moving better today,” Cam said when she hit the bottom of the stairs.
She looked up to see him standing a few feet away watching her. “Not exactly,” she muttered.
She shoved the shoes at him and walked past him into the living room, where Hutch was waiting for her. Cam followed behind chuckling.
She sat down on the couch and pinned him with a glare. To his credit, he didn’t say a word as he dropped to one knee and began putting on her socks.
She glanced up at Hutch, whose eyes twinkled with merriment. She twisted her lips in disgust and looked back down at Cam. He slid the tennis shoes on and quickly laced them up. Then he patted the top of her foot.
“All done.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
“You ready?” Hutch asked.
She nodded and started to push herself off the couch but remembered her wrist at the last minute. With another sigh, she reached up with her good hand to grab Cam’s. He pulled her up, a wide grin splitting his face.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He leaned in and gave her a light peck on the lips. “Yes, I am.”
“Neanderthal,” she grumbled as she walked by him to follow Hutch out the front door.
The drive was mostly silent, a fact she was grateful for. Part of her wondered if Hutch knew she’d slept sandwiched between Sawyer and Cam, and the other part of her was tired of worrying over imagined jealousies and slights.
It wasn’t her responsibility to make sure each of them was soothed. God, she couldn’t even imagine the exhaustion in trying. Which was why she thought this whole notion of theirs was a disaster in the making.
It still didn’t stop the what-ifs from whispering in her ear, though. What if it could work? What if she could have a deep and loving relationship with all three of them?
As soon as the thought inserted itself into her mind, she slammed the door shut. Entertaining those kinds of fantasies was only ensuring that one of them, probably her, would get hurt.
“You’re quiet, baby.”
She looked over and smiled, but it felt stiff even to her.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said in a low voice.
“Stop brooding,” he chided. “It won’t help anything.”
She leaned forward in her seat as they pulled into her driveway. Her silver RAV4 was still parked outside where she’d left it, and it would be a relief to have it with her at the guys’ house. It meant not having to depend on them to go when she wanted and where she wanted.
“You can wait here,” she said. “I’m just going to run in and get some different shoes. Or you can go ahead and start back. I’ll be along in a minute.”
He just stared at her.
“No? Okay. Be back in a minute.”
She closed the door and shook her head. Not that she really thought he’d start back without her, but she’d offered at any rate.
She unlocked her door and stepped inside, doing a quick survey. Nothing had changed since the day before, and nothing felt out of place. The fact that she even considered that someone might have gone into her house irritated the hell out of her. That some nutjob had targeted her because of her father pissed her off even more.
She made a quick pass through her room, grabbing a few more changes of clothes and clean underwear. As she stuffed everything into her bag, she cringed a bit over the underwear. Stuffy, white and plain. Then she shook her head. She was losing her damn mind. What the hell did it matter if she didn’t have dainty, lacy underwear?
With a groan, she shoved the remaining clothes into the overnight bag and yanked it closed.
She walked back outside and gave Hutch a small wave as she climbed into her small SUV. She gingerly wrapped her left hand around the wheel and tested the tenderness of her wrist as she inserted her key into the ignition. She moved it one notch, and her radio nearly blasted her ears off. She slapped at the knob to turn it off. The bag in the passenger seat caught her eye, and she realized she’d forgotten to get her flip-flops. Damn it.
She climbed out and held up one finger in Hutch’s direction to indicate she’d just be a minute then hurried toward the front door.
As she reached out for the handle, a loud explosion registered just a nanosecond before she was lifted into the air and slammed against the door. Pain speared her skull as she hit the ground. Heat. So much heat. It blazed over her skin. Her head lolled to the side, and it was then that she saw what used to be her vehicle engulfed in flames.
Hutch.
Oh God, where was Hutch?
She struggled to right herself. Her fingers dug into the sidewalk as she dragged herself along the ground.
“Reggie!”
She nearly fainted with relief when she heard Hutch’s frantic cry.
He fell down next to her. His hands ran over her body, seeking. “Reggie, oh my God, Reggie, are you all right?”
She rolled so she could look up at him then squinted against the sun. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. I just bought that car.”
Hutch pressed his forehead to hers, and his fingers shook against her cheeks. “Sweet Jesus, you scared the hell out of me, Reggie.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’m going to have to change my underwear.”
“Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere? Christ you hit the door hard.”
“To tell you the truth, I have no idea yet. My head hurts. I think. Not sure about anything else.”
“Maybe you should just lay there and not move while I call for an ambulance.”
“Oh hell no,”
she muttered. “I’ve had enough of ambulances and hospitals. Help me up. If I can stand on my own for at least five seconds, you have to promise to take me home with you.”
“Baby, I thought you’d never ask.”
“Smart-ass.”
He laughed, and she tried to smile. Honestly she did. But hell, it hurt. Her whole face hurt. She grimaced as she reached up to grab Hutch’s arm. He wrapped his arms around her and gently helped her up.
Her knees buckled, and Hutch caught her before she fell on her face again. She clung to his shirt and took quick stock of her injuries.
Other than a nagging buzz in her head that wouldn’t go away, she didn’t think she was any worse for the wear. Well, unless you counted some seriously shot nerves.
“We have to call this in,” she rasped. “Evidence.”
“Already done, baby. You just stay your ass in one place. In fact, I’m going to take you to the truck so you can sit down. If you so much as look like you’re going to sway, I’m hauling your butt to the ER.”
“Truck sounds pretty good right now,” she said.
Hutch picked her up and strode to his truck. Her fuzzy vision took in a large dent in his hood as they passed.
“Ah, fuck. Your truck.”
“I don’t give a shit about my truck. Just that you’re all right.”
He opened the passenger door, then shouldered it open wider before he settled her into the seat. Then he reached down and pulled the lever to recline it. He eased her down until she was nearly flat on her back.
“You’re a mess,” he murmured as he trailed a finger down her cheek.
“So is your truck,” she croaked. “And my SUV.” She sighed. “I saved up for forever to buy it. It was cute.”
“Cute? You’re actually admitting to buying a cute vehicle?”
“Hey, I’m a girl. We’re supposed to have cute vehicles,” she grumbled.
“Now I know you’re suffering a head injury.”
She reached a hand blindly up until it collided with his face. She cupped his cheek. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “I thought . . .” Her voice cracked as tears suddenly welled in her eyes. “I thought maybe it was you. That the explosion got you.”
Hutch leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. “No, baby, I’m fine. Don’t upset yourself.” He stroked a gentle hand through her hair. “God, I was fine. Just a cracked windshield and a dent or two. But you . . . Jesus, I watched you hit the door.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer with each passing second. She struggled to sit up despite Hutch holding her down.
“Let me up,” she said.
He hesitated but then relented and helped her sit up. She swung her feet around the seat to dangle close to the step down. After blinking a few times to clear her vision, she saw two fire trucks and three police units tear up her street.
Her car was still a smoking mass of metal, but the flames had died down some. And then she saw what the explosion had done to the front of her house.
“My house,” she said faintly. “Look at my house.”
The front windows were blown out, all three of them. There was debris on the roof and scattered over the lawn. The flowers that she’d lovingly planted were gone. Even the lone dogwood in the yard was now nothing more than a pitiful, smoldering stick in the ground.
The firefighters jumped out and quickly hosed down her SUV. Jeremy, Carl and the chief hurried over to the truck where Hutch stood.
“Regina, are you all right?” the chief demanded.
“I’m fine. Just shaken up.”
She slid off the seat, steadying herself by grabbing Hutch’s arm. He put his arm around her shoulders as her feet found solid ground.
“What the hell happened here?” Carl demanded.
Regina sighed and quickly related the sequence of events leading up to the explosion.
“Sounds like a delayed timer,” Jeremy said grimly. “Christ, if you hadn’t gotten out to go back in, it would have exploded with you in it.”
Hutch paled, and he tightened his grip on her shoulder. She worked hard to keep her hands from shaking, finally balling her fingers into fists.
Her yard quickly got a lot more crowded as more police and first responders showed up. The entire frickin’ town would be there before the hour was out.
The whole area was cordoned off, and she and Hutch were pushed back into the street. She watched with a sense of detachment. It was just any other crime scene. It wasn’t her home and vehicle. To admit that would be to admit how close she’d come to death. Again.
It was enough to make her religious.
Hutch kept his arm around her, rubbing his hand up and down her shoulder. Every once in a while he’d glance down, concern burning brightly in his eyes.
She stared dully at the chief as he directed the activity around her vehicle. It had turned into a regular police party—locals, the county guys, state police, even a bomb squad guy from the city south of her podunk town. This had to be a first.
And just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Peter Fallon drove up in his black Mercedes. On second thought, things could get worse. Her mother climbed out of the passenger seat and scanned the crowd until her eyes alighted on Regina.
“Fuck me,” Reggie muttered.
Hutch stiffened beside her then squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I’m here, baby.”
To her never-ending shock, and she’d truly thought the days of her parents surprising her had ended, her mother rushed over and threw her arms around Regina, hugging her tightly.
“Regina, thank God you’re all right.”
Regina pulled away, blinking in confusion. “Mom. What are you doing here?”
Lydia smoothed the tendrils of Regina’s hair, pushing them back away from her face in a decidedly motherly fashion. Hell, maybe Regina had died, or maybe this was some bizarre dream she hadn’t awoken from yet. She liked option number two.
“Your father heard about the explosion on the police scanner, and we rushed right over. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Peter Fallon walked up behind his wife and stared at Regina. “Regina,” he said gruffly. “Are you okay?”
Option one. Definitely option one. Obviously she had died, and this was some sort of purgatory she was assigned to where her mother and father played the role of parents who gave a damn.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You stay with Regina,” Peter said to Lydia. “I’m going to find out what the hell is going on here. Someone’s trying to kill my daughter, and I want to know why.”
Regina gaped at his retreating back. Then she found herself yanked against her mother once more when Lydia enfolded her in another hug. She glanced up at Hutch in astonished horror.
He looked as confused as she did and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
For a moment, Regina allowed herself the luxury of indulging in a mother’s hug. She couldn’t remember the last time her mom had hugged her, said she loved her or acted maternal in any shape or fashion.
It felt . . . good.
“You should come stay with me and your father, Regina. You can hardly stay here now,” Lydia said as she pulled away again.
“Uhm, thanks, Mom, but I’ll be staying with Hutch for the short term.” She glanced up at Hutch as she spoke.
Lydia’s brow creased in confusion. “But he doesn’t live here.” She glanced apologetically over at Hutch. “I know you’ve been a good friend to Regina, but surely she should stay in her own community where she can be close to family?”