Rough Around the Edges (23 page)

He pushed the door open further and stepped over the threshold.

His pulse slowed just a little when he saw Ally standing untouched and apparently unharmed in the kitchen, flanked by her mother and a man with dark hair cut so short he was almost bald. Before Ryan could say a word, Ally turned on her heel.

Her eyes went wide when they met his. Even from the doorway, he could see moisture gleaming on the little lashes that lined her lower lid.

“I thought I heard an argument.”

“It’s okay.”

Obviously, it wasn’t. “Are you sure?” He stepped toward her, reaching for her. He couldn’t look at the tears she was holding back and not give in to the urge to touch her, to offer some sort of comfort, however clumsy.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, his fingers conforming to her tense muscle.

“Yeah.”

The man in the kitchen stepped forward, fixing Ryan with dark eyes that were intensely familiar. There was no moisture clinging to his lashes, but Ryan knew exactly where he’d seen those eyes before. The man asked something in Spanish, looming behind Ally.

Ryan didn’t move, but he was ready to. Even if the guy was Ally’s brother, it was obvious he hadn’t stopped by to spread good news. His eyes were the same color as his sister’s, but they were hard, right at home above the tattoos that snaked up his neck, peeking from above the collar of a black leather jacket. If he touched Ally, he was in for the beating of his lifetime.

“Yes.” Ally’s muscles drew even tighter beneath Ryan’s hand as she answered her brother, still speaking in English.

He spoke English too as he stepped past Ally, so close to Ryan that his breath invaded the space between them, reeking of something that had contained onions. “You hurt her and I’ll fucking kill you too.”

The threat set Ryan’s teeth on edge, but he couldn’t find it in himself to resent the words. Hurt her? Never. But this other man, Ally’s brother… “Likewise.”

The other man – hadn’t Ally called him Manny? – stared back with stone-faced fury, his only motion the flaring of his nostrils. Ryan was aware of Ally between them like he was aware of his own pulse, a hard thrumming in his sternum, wrists and temples.

Manny moved, but it wasn’t an attack. His hands were at his sides as he stepped past Ally – balled up into fists, but still at his sides. “See you soon.”

He exited through the front door and the sound of a revving engine followed.

“Hey.” Ryan cupped Ally’s cheek. It was dry, but unshed tears were still clinging to her lashes. “You okay?”

She nodded, her throat tight, like she was choking whatever sound wanted to come out.

“You want me to take you back to my place for the night?”

Long moments ticked by as she looked at him, her jaw still beneath his fingers. “I’d better stay here with mamá.”

A part of him wanted to object, but who was he to tell her what to do? Especially when a night at his place couldn’t be completely peaceful – not when he was bound to wake her up with his nightmares. “Okay. Do you still want me to take your things tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“I can help you get them if you want.” He removed his hand from her face, shifting his gaze to the hallway.

She led him down it, to a modest room. Pulling several articles of clothing from her dresser drawers, she laid them on the neatly-made twin bed before turning to her closet. There, she selected a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Here you go,” she said when she’d put everything in a tote bag she’d retrieved from beneath the bed.

He tucked it under his arm but couldn’t make himself move from the spot where he stood, halfway between the door and her bed. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“Yeah.”

Her sparse answer wasn’t reassuring, but in a way, he respected her calm façade. It wasn’t like he would’ve admitted anything otherwise either if he’d been in her shoes. “All right. Let me know if you change your mind. You can call me any time, even if it’s late.” Despite her reassurances, a part of him ached to shelter her from whatever was hurting her. Maybe she’d give him a chance to do so.

“Thanks.”

Then again, maybe not.

“Even if I don’t hear from you tonight, I want you to call me in the morning.” He couldn’t resist saying it. Going home and spending the night alone remembering how she’d looked while on the verge of tears would be hard enough. Come morning, he’d need to know she was really all right.

“I will.”

He’d asked everything he dared of her, so when she walked him to the front door, he went along. At the threshold, he wished her a goodnight and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her until she gave in and melted against him. His restraint could be credited partially to the fact that her mother was watching and partially to the fact that he feared Ally wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t go soft against him like she had in the past. He’d rather go without than suffer the rejection.

Outside, the night was much colder than the day had been, as if the weather had turned sour along with his and Ally’s day. When he reached the Mustang he climbed inside and placed the bag full of her belongings on the passenger seat. It didn’t look right there. He longed to see her riding beside him, not just her things.

He’d have to work on being more grateful for what he had. After all, the belongings she’d sent with him were a promise that she’d return, and that was more than he’d expected during the lowest points of the day.

There seemed to be too few cars on the streets during the drive home; usually, traffic was more of a pain in the ass. He guided the Mustang easily, maintaining an even speed just a little above the legal limit. When he arrived at the apartment complex, the drive seemed to have taken no time at all. Carrying the bag Ally had given him, he climbed the stairs and entered his empty unit.

There was more than enough room for her things in his dresser. He cleared out half of one drawer, shoving several pairs of his jeans aside to make space. He could’ve given Ally her own drawer, but liked the idea of their things resting side by side. He took his time refolding the articles of her clothing that had come unfolded during the car ride – a sweater, a t-shirt and a couple pairs of panties.

When he was done, the drawer was clearly visually divided, one half full of his oft-worn dark-washed jeans and the other with softer things that had touched her body, like a red sweater and socks with little flowers worked into the knit. Her lingerie stood out most of all; a couple pairs of soft panties trimmed with lace provided a subdued pop of color. It was impossible to look at them without thinking of how they’d look clinging to her body, of how she’d looked in his bed the night before, clad in panties and one of his shirts.

The bag she’d packed hadn’t included any sleepwear. That was okay; he’d be glad to lend her another t-shirt. Opening one of the upper drawers, he pulled one out and placed it with her things.

* * * * *

Ryan picked up the phone on the second ring, having paused to wipe his hands on his jeans during the first. The past night had been a long one – he’d dreamed a lot, and threads of uneasy emotion still clung to him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ally’s voice resounded from the other end of the connection for the second time that day.

“How did breakfast go?” She’d called him that morning and told him about a standing brunch date she had with Melissa.

“It went okay. Do you still want to get together?”

“Yes.” Hell yes. The apartment felt gloomy, stifling. It would be different if she was there – her presence changed things. Besides, after the way events had gone the night before when she’d argued with her brother, he was eager to spend time with her again. He needed to see her smile in order to erase the memories of her fighting tears.

“If you want me to come over, I could bring a movie.”

“Sounds good. Are you at home yet?”

“Just got in.”

“I’ll see you in a little while, then.” He picked up his keys from the counter. “I’m leaving now.”

“All right. I’ll be ready when you get here.”

The previous night’s tension began to fade as he climbed into the Mustang, then made his way toward Ally’s neighborhood. When he arrived he parked at the curb and prepared to approach the door.

She appeared on the porch before he could even pull the keys from the ignition. She carried a handbag slung over one arm and a DVD case in one hand as she hurried down the stairs and to the Mustang.

“Do you want to drive?” he asked when she opened the passenger-door.

Her eyes widened and a little line formed between them. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. I just thought you might want the practice. For your license?”

“Oh. Right.” She nodded like she’d either forgotten all about it or was preoccupied by something else. “Yeah, I’ll drive.”

He switched sides with her, surrendered the keys and let her focus on driving as they made the journey from her neighborhood to his.

They arrived safely; her driving was already getting smoother. She’d have a license as soon as was legally allowed, if she wanted one.

Inside, he headed to the fridge while she removed her jacket and shoes. “Want something to drink?”

“Yeah. Whatever you have will be fine.”

Turned out that what he had was orange juice – it was either that or tap water. He poured her a glass of juice. “Guess I need to go grocery shopping. I’ve got breakfast stuff, but not much else.” Maybe he should’ve done that earlier that morning instead of sitting around being miserable. Hindsight was 20/20.

“I like orange juice. It’s fine.” She took the glass and sank down onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table as he poured one for himself.

“Yeah, well, I hoped you would.” He leaned against the island and lifted his glass halfway to his mouth. “I stocked up on lots of breakfast stuff after we made plans for you to spend the night last Friday.”

“Really? That was sweet of you.”

“It was a strategic move. Breakfast is pretty much the only meal I know how to cook, so I thought I’d try to impress you before you discovered that.”

She took a long drink. When she put her glass down, the smile had faded from her face. “Yesterday, when you walked in on my argument with my brother…”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” He’d been thinking about it a lot, actually, trying not to let it drive him crazy. “Are you sure you’re all right? You said you were estranged from him.”

“I was. Me and my mother – we were, until just recently. He’s started coming around again for the first time in several years. Uninvited.”

“And unwelcome, right?”

She nodded. “He belongs to a local gang my uncle Carlos runs – Casa de Ladrillos. It’s not very big, and you’ve probably never heard of it. They sell drugs in their own neighborhood, mostly. My brother Manny is second in command – completely under Carlos’ thumb. We don’t want him around because of that.”

Ryan’s stomach clenched into a tight ball, harder than the muscle that covered it. “And he’s respected that until now?”

“Yes. Carlos lured him into the gang after my father went to prison. When my mother told my father during a visit, he was furious. He told us to tell Manny that as long as he associated with Carlos, under no circumstances was he allowed inside our home, and we did. As far as our father was concerned, Manny stopped being a member of our family the day he joined Casa de Ladrillos.”

“What does he want?” Blood was already rushing through his body, creating a faint roar in his ears. Whatever he wanted, clearly it had something to do with Ally. Regret that he hadn’t punched the bastard in the face crept into Ryan’s system, toxic.

Ally shrugged. “For us to come to his wedding this summer. And act like we’re still family, apparently. I think he feels like we’re disrespecting him by ignoring him, and that I owe him.”

Ryan set his glass down on the counter. A wedding? Not exactly what he’d expected. “For what?”

Ally paused for the briefest of moments. “My father went to prison for attacking and seriously injuring someone. I think he would’ve killed the man if the police hadn’t arrived and stopped him.”

Another pause.

“My father isn’t normally violent. He did it because the man had raped me.”