by Lena North
“What was he saying?” Olly asked and sat down in front of me.
“Told me I should let you explain,” I said and looked down into my coffee. “He also shared why none of the men danced with me last night. Said you would have killed them.”
“Would have,” he muttered.
“Olly –” I started, but the look on his face shut me up.
“I’m sorry, Annie,” he said.
I wanted to protest but remembered what the bird had told me and watched him in silence. He pressed his lips together briefly and sighed.
“I didn’t think you were involved with the men who kidnapped Mary and I never thought you were a spy. It was never about your brain and how you can help save my family, and I’m really, really sorry I killed your bike.”
“Maimed,” I corrected him. “And you fixed it.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, looking down on his lap.
When he raised his eyes again, I stopped breathing.
“I was scared,” he said. “You’re solid. Whole, despite everything that happened to you, and I…” He swallowed and went on quietly, “You said you would make sure you were happy without me, and I know you can do that. I’m just a waste in so many ways, you were right about that, and I knew that if I let myself fall for you, then I’d be lost. And you’re special, Annie. I knew it already before, and when I heard how really unique you actually are… I just –”
He looked down on his lap, and I wanted so badly to say something but my mind was blank. His head came up again, and he smiled a small, crooked smile.
“You could be happy without me but what if I let myself fall and you find out I’m not good enough? I wouldn’t find my way back. It would destroy me, and I knew it, so I freaked out.”
Oh, God.
“Olly, no,” I said. “I was angry, said stupid shit. You’re not a waste. And I’ve been without you. I can be content without you, but I can’t be happy. Not like… not happy.”
“You know what I am,” he said. “What I do, and how I am. It’s like a light switch, Annie, and it’s mostly off, but when it’s on… It’s like a flare, burning through me. I’m dangerous. I could hurt you.”
The last admission came out in a hoarse whisper, and I suspected this was his greatest fear. To hurt people he cared about.
“Do you think I don’t know this? I’m not afraid of you,” I said.
“I had a good life,” he continued as if he hadn't heard me. “Liked my job, liked my friends. Had fun with Hawk and the others. And when shit got out of hand, I had my parents. Da would be there for me, and Ma was so strong. She helped control my anger, and I always, always knew that I’d never snap. Not completely, because she’d always have my back.”
He stopped talking and closed his eyes.
“And then she died,” I said so he wouldn’t have to.
“Yeah. And I snapped. It was…”
“I was there Olly,” I reminded him gently.
“Yeah,” he repeated. “I always remembered, you know. Don't always have full control of it, but I always remembered. Except for that night. There are spots of darkness I can't see through, and I don't know what happened. I had no control, and there was no one to have my back anymore.”
The bird had told me to not touch him, but I didn't care. His shoulders had dropped, and he looked so lost that I couldn’t stay away. I crawled into his lap and put my cheek in the curve between his shoulder and neck, just where his pulse was beating.
“So, there I was. Lost, dangerous, furious, grieving… And a girl who should have been scared shitless of someone like me came to Double H and looked at me with eyes that were so innocent. I was angry and rude. Cut you with my words. I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t get you out of my head, so I came back. Told myself it was just so I could apologize. And you walked straight into a wall, told me I wasn't a gick and made me laugh for the first time since I lost Ma. Took the first fall then, and was too stupid to know it.”
“I –”
“It wasn’t about you holding things back, Annie. It pissed me off, and I wish you'd told me because you wanted to and not because you had to, but it wasn't about that. Not really.” He wrapped his strong arms around me and held me close as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I was just scared. Still am.”
“I won’t hurt you,” I said.
“You won’t mean to, Annie, but I’ll handle it if you do. Don’t know how, but I will,” he said determinedly. “But I might hurt you and I couldn’t live with that.”
“Olly, don’t be an idiot,” I said. “You were pretty angry that last night in the barn. Your eyes change when you are so I knew, and you held a damned steel-pipe in your hands. I wasn't afraid then, and I'm not afraid now. You didn't hurt me, and the pipe could have crushed my skull. You could have snapped my neck. Used one of the four knives you have strapped to your body at all times. Shot me with –”
“I get the point,” he rumbled.
“Right. You held me with hands that were gentle, and you let me show you the way back. If I hadn’t been there, Mac would have. Or Snow. Wilder. Heck, even Hawker would have talked you down,” I said patiently, but added in the interest of honesty, “Well, maybe not Hawker. He probably would have shot you.”
“Hawker wouldn’t have –”
“You relied on your ma, but she wasn't the only one having your back.”
“I –”
“I was there, Olly,” I cut him off quietly. “I was there when you put your mother to rest. I saw your face when you and Sven walked into the church, and I knew how both of you hurt.”
I swallowed, remembering the absolute pain in their hard, expressionless faces.
“I watched when you carried the coffin outside,” I continued. “I saw you taking that weight when every breath must have burned like acid in your throat. But Olly –” I tilted my head back to look into his eyes. “I saw the others too. I saw Hawk and Mill, hard-faced and grieving, but taking some of the weight. Kit did. Wilder and Snow. And I saw them surrounding you at the grave. Not touching you, but still holding you up.”
“Annie…”
“And I saw your da. He had his hand on your shoulder, holding on tight. It looked like he leaned on you, but it wasn't just that. He held you up too, in that moment when your ma was put to rest.”
A tear slipped out of my eye, and I brushed it off, angry at myself for not holding it together. This was important, and he needed to listen.
“I know you're strong, and I know people rely on you to have their backs. But you have to let them return the courtesy, Olly. You have to let us take some of the weight.”
His arms tightened a little, but then he relaxed, and I felt him kiss the top of my head. We sat in silence for a while, just breathing in the fresh autumn air together.
“You’re right,” he said finally, and I tilted my head back to look at him. “I hear what you're saying, and I know. Took a while but I've started to figure things out. I’m –”
He stopped talking abruptly, and there was a faint blush creeping up his neck.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m talking to someone,” he muttered. “Felt stupid at first, but it helps to vent shit.”
“You’re talking to someone?” I asked slowly and started to move so I could get a good look at his face, but he tightened his grip, indicating I should stay where I was.
“Heard your bike roar out of Double H, babe. Knew I had to get help or I'd have lost you forever. Thought I'd call one of the guys, have them come out to the barn, but I saw your text, and I knew what I had to do. Called the number before I could change my mind.”
“Really?” I breathed.
“Yeah. Called a couple more times,” he muttered, distinctly uncomfortable with the fact that he was talking to a trained professional.
“When your bike breaks down, who do you call?” I asked, thinking it would help ease his mind to make that analogy.
&nb
sp; “Da.”
Well, shit.
“Okay, but when you have tax issues? Who do you call then?”
“Babe. I don’t have tax issues,” he snorted.
“But if,” I pushed.
“I don’t know. I’d call Jinx, I suppose.”
Jinx? Why the hell would he call Jiminella Sweetwater with his tax issues?
“If someone cut you with a knife?” I tried.
“Babe, I don’t –”
“But if,” I interrupted with a little force.
“If I couldn’t stitch it up myself, then I’d call Mac, I guess.”
Mac? The vet?
“What if you wanted a fantastic dinner?”
“Mrs. C” he replied immediately.
Mrs. C? Who the hell was that?
“Who –”
His deep chuckle cut me off, and I leaned back again to look at him.
“Are you deliberately making fun of me?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said and smiled down at me. “Thanks for trying to make it easier for me, though. I got your point and yeah. Sometimes you need a professional.”
“You’d call Mac if you got wounded?” I asked curiously.
“Probably not,” he admitted.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay,” he echoed.
“Can I say something now?” I asked.
He'd apologized in a way I knew I'd never forget, but I had been an idiot too, and I had things to say.
“Not if you’re gonna apologize.”
What?
“But –”
“I spent time with your grandfather, Annie. He was forthcoming.”
Gramps had been… forthcoming?
“What does that even mean?” I said weakly, hoping it didn’t mean my unpredictable grandfather had shared all kinds of details about me.
“Talked about you for hours. He said that since you knew shit about me, I should know shit about you. So, I do.”
“Um,” I mumbled.
“I know about how you grew up. He talked about Byron Strachlan, and what Cameron had tried to do, and how they hid you away. He says they took it too far and feels bad about that, so he also talked about how you planned for weeks to approach Wilder, and what you meant to do to help. It was a shitty plan babe, and it was never going to work, but I get what you tried to do, and why.”
I blinked and hid my face in his tee.
“Crap,” I whispered.
“There’s no need for you to apologize, Annie. I wish you'd told me, but I get why you didn't.”
“But I said you should dip your head in a bucket of ice and that I never wanted to see you again,” I said.
His arms twitched, and then he pushed my chin up until I faced him.
“When did you say that?” he asked.
“Yeste…” My eyes widened, and I revised my reply. “Never?”
“Annie?”
“Okay, but I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry,” I murmured.
“Annie?”
“I told your bird to tell you that and a few more things yesterday, but I was angry and –”
He started laughing, and I stopped talking.
“The bird didn’t tell you?” I asked.
“I most certainly didn’t,” the bird cut in. “I am not stupid.”
“Why were you angry with me?” Olly asked.
“You thought I’d been stalking you,” I murmured.
“You were,” he said calmly.
“I wasn’t,” I protested. “Okay, yes, maybe a little. But not like you think. I was there for your mother’s funeral, but apart from that I never ever listened in on anything except what you said when you were on missions.”
“Really?” he said, sounding surprised.
“Olly, what the hell? Why would I do something like that?”
He was silent a while, but then he chuckled.
“I would have,” he muttered and held on to me tighter when I tried to move. “Babe, seriously? I would have had the bird pressed to your bathroom window, watching you shower every opportunity I got.”
Uh, what?
“Olly!” I squealed, half mad but half laughing.
He laughed with me and hugged me tighter, rolling backward and around until he was on top of me, leaning on his elbow and watching me with eyes that were suddenly darker.
“Or by your bed in the morning, when you woke up, soft and warm. Turning around, and stretching. Smiling the way only you do.”
I stopped struggling and swallowed.
“Yeah, Annie,” he whispered hoarsely. “I totally would have.”
“I would have let you,” I said quietly.
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on mine.
“I said a lot of shit, and that's okay. I'll show you I was wrong. Show you I'm better than that. But there's one thing I wish I could unsay,” he murmured and raised his head to look at me. “I wish I hadn’t said you were banging the grief out of me. That was messed up, and I knew it already when the words rolled over my tongue. I didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry. We made love, and you don’t deserve to have ugly words like that in your head.”
“Okay.”
“I'll show you I'm better than that,” he repeated, and it sounded like a promise.
He bent his head down and kissed me, slow and sweet. I relaxed and let my hands slide over his broad back and down toward –
“Well, Jesus,” a voice said. “I'll make breakfast, and then I'll call Thomas.”
Thomas?
Olly started laughing and raised his head.
“We’ll be inside in a minute, Da,” he said.
“Right,” Sven muttered, made a gesture with his hand, and walked away.
Toby sat down and watched us with what could only be described as a very smug doggy-grin. Olly chuckled and leaned down to kiss me again, and Toby barked, once.
“The hell?” Olly muttered and leaned down again.
The dog promptly barked again, and I started giggling. Sven and Toby had apparently had a small chat about what was allowed on the lawn.
“Well, shit,” Olly grunted and started moving. “Guess we’ll have breakfast.”
It turned out Thomas was one of the builders in Norton and Sven would call him to start converting part of the barn into a separate apartment. I protested and said that it was completely unnecessary.
“We always said we would rebuild that barn, Bee and I,” Sven told me.
“I bet you did,” Olly murmured.
“What was that, son?” Sven rumbled.
Olly just looked at his father with an enigmatic smile, and said, “Whipped cream, Da?”
I blinked and was about to ask what he meant
“Can’t believe they told you,” Sven sighed.
“Ma did,” Olly said with a grin.
“Jesus,” Sven muttered. “Crazy woman.”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Sven muttered immediately. “We'll have to figure out what to do until we're done with the rebuild since you’re using the guest room as office.”
He clearly didn’t want to discuss whatever they’d been discussing, so I decided to ask Olly later instead.
“I’ll crash at Mac’s for a while anyway,” Olly said suddenly.
Both Sven’s and my forks stopped halfway up to our mouths, and Olly put his down.
“We started in the wrong end of things, Annie,” he said. “Not making that mistake again. Mac isn’t using his place much anyway so I’ll stay there, and you’ll be here.”
I stared at him, knowing what he meant but not sure how I felt about it. He was sweet, but –
“I miss Bee,” Sven said quietly, and we both jerked around to look at him.
He had a smile on his face, but it was sad, and so were his eyes.
“Da,” Olly murmured.
“Feels like yesterday when you were a just a small boy, Olly. The
n you were this idiot teenager, and then… When you have kids of your own, you’ll know. It creeps up on you, so you don’t see it coming, but one day, like just now, out of the blue you realize that, shit… He’s an adult.” His smile was less sad when he went on, “Would have wanted your ma to see that. She would have been so proud.”
Maybe Bee Harper would have been proud, but I didn’t like Olly’s plans and hoped he meant for his stay in Mac’s apartment to be highly temporary. I could easily sleep in the bed in what had become my office, and we’d at least be under the same roof.
After breakfast, Olly handed me the keys to my bike.
“Washed it and filled up gas,” he said.
“You washed my bike?”
“Yeah.”
I looked out the window at my cruiser, which glittered in the morning sun in a way it hadn’t done since I bought it. Whey the heck would he –
“You puked on my bike?” I yelled.
“What?”
“Olof Harper did you –”
“Jesus,” he interrupted. “I did not throw up on your bike.”
“Oh,” I said and closed my mouth with a snap.
His mouth quivered a little, but he managed to stay serious when he explained, “I know what that bike means to you, and I took it without asking. Got a lecture from Hawk about it. Figured the least I could do was wash off the ten years of dirt which was stuck on it.”
The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he mentioned the lecture he’d gotten made me think it hadn’t been so stern after all.
“Hawker talked to you?”
“Yup.”
“Sternly?”
“Babe. Hawk doesn’t do stern. He does either rough or damned unpleasant.”
Yikes. Neither sounded like fun, and I wondered what I’d gotten him into.
“Which did you get?”
“Started out rough but we talked for a long time yesterday, Annie. He’s a good man.”
“I know,” I said.
“Does he count as a professional?”
“A what?”
He grinned at me and tweaked my nose softly.
“I know you’re all fired up about shrinks, sweetie. Hawk good enough for you?”
I thought about it for a second. Olly hadn't talked to anyone about the loss of his mother, not even his father or cousin. When we had that fight, he'd called the number I’d given him, but I could see how it would be better for him to have someone close by to talk to. Someone who understood him. And he was right, Hawker Johns was a good man.