Like she was a skeleton on Halloween, her limbs fell in a tangle across the seat. A hand pushed her butt so she was completely in before slamming the door.
“What the hell is your problem?” she yelled at him as he came around the driver’s side. “I didn’t mess this night up for you, Devon. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you being such a dick?”
His eyes flashed to her, boiling with anger. But right under that, it seemed like he was uncertain about something. Uncomfortable, maybe.
And guess what? So was she. She was tired, drained, and terrified. She didn’t deserve this treatment. So when he slammed his own door, jabbed the push-button ignition, and finally stomped on the gas, every movement leaking rage, she couldn’t help but feel a small trickle of vindictiveness.
“You don’t like being a gentleman? Too in love with your image as a bad boy?” she badgered, not sure why.
He held up a flexed arm, his finger and thumb indicating an inch. “I am this close to tossing you out of this car, Charity. Keep it up.”
“Alas, but then Roger would kick your ass.” The fear and uncertainty from the vamp’s attack was like an acid bath to her nerves. She didn’t know why, but she wanted—needed—to take it out on him. “Can’t do much of your own thinking on this one. But that suits—”
Tires screeched as he swiveled the wheel and slammed on the brakes. She smacked off the dashboard. Her face pressed painfully against the windshield.
Parked on the side of the road, he turned on her in a rush. Red lights flared in front of them as Andy stepped on his brakes.
“I don’t give a shit what Roger will do,” he said. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
His fury shriveled her vindictiveness, leaving only uncertainty and vulnerability. Tears welled up, the fear threatening to drown her. She dropped her face, trying to hide the sudden gush of emotion as she crawled back into the seat.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “You’re right.”
She heard a long sigh. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the wheel. Sirens wailed as three police cars zipped by.
“Please don’t cry,” he murmured. “I was too rough. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”
She quickly wiped away a tear and strapped herself into the seat. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed. I was so scared with that vamp. I keep protecting myself, but I don’t know how anymore. I just… I feel…”
“Like you have no control,” he said softly. “Your life is on the line, and you have no control over the outcome.”
She hugged her arms around her body.
“I felt that way in the beginning,” he said. “Like I was slipping through by the skin of my teeth. I barely knew how to turn into a wolf. I had nothing else to fall back on… I was a disgrace during our first battle. I had to get saved by my alpha at the time. I was as embarrassed as all hell. Took it out on the punching bag after.”
He leaned back, his eyes still trained on her face. “I can’t imagine going up against an elder my first time. Or what it must’ve been like to wake up in that house. I forget you’re new to all this. I forget that you’re as green as they come—without any real control over your magic. I just…fly off the handle sometimes. I apologize for how I handled that. I should’ve known why you were trying to get my goat.”
“What a weird saying,” she said dismally, feeling a little awkward now that she was regaining control over her emotions. “‘Get my goat.’”
Devon snorted, his soft and intent gaze not allowing her to rebuild her walls. “Yeah. But, you know, goats are worth money. For the milk and cheese and stuff.”
“I should invest in a goat.” She tried to laugh.
“I’m always around for talking, you know. If you need to hash stuff out. I don’t know anything about your magic, but I can maybe tell you about mine, and you can learn that way.”
“It’s okay. I got it.” She straightened herself up.
Finally, he nodded, straightening up too. “It’s out there, if you need it. We men don’t like to talk about our own feelings, but we can sure fix up other people’s lives.”
Laughter came a little easier this time as she settled back into the seat. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel his solidity and ease her fear and uncertainty, but she gathered he wasn’t a man that bent to intimacy all that well—at least, the non-sexual kind. She didn’t want to trade her uncomfortableness for his. It wasn’t fair.
She settled for leaning her head on the back of her seat and crossing her arms over her chest.
Devon had his hand on the gear selector, ready to put them back in drive, when Andy walked over.