Tough Love
Page 20
“I can take care of myself.”
Just as the car fire had earlier, he seemed to explode. “This is why you should have kept your sweet ass at home! You don’t even know Phil, so how the hell can you know—”
“You’re yelling at me? Seriously?” Unlike him, she spoke low. And mean. Like...really mean. “My apologies for barging in. I shouldn’t have. Soon as we reach the hospital I’ll call a cab. I can wait in the lobby until it arrives.”
“Fuck.” Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, Stack muttered again, with more feeling, “Fuck.”
Vanity folded her arms and stared out the passenger window. But she knew she wasn’t being fair, so after six or seven minutes had passed, she took a breath and again faced him.
More moderately, without the sharp bite of anger, she said, “I overstepped when I promised you that I wouldn’t. For that I really am sorry. This was supposed to be simple sex as friends, not a home invasion. My only excuse is that things have gotten off track in a big way. First that awful wreck, and now this...” A deep breath helped her regroup. “I just wanted you, that’s all. And here I am bringing as much drama as your sister, and that just might...might run you off before I even get all the goods.” She made a face. “Best laid plans, right?”
After her rambling explanation, his quiet, “I’m sorry,” meant more just by the simplicity of it.
“You’re sorry?”
“My family has the unique ability to make me lose my cool.” He pulled into the hospital parking lot, chose a spot and stopped the car. Turning in the seat, he faced her. “We need to clear this up.”
Disappointment weighed heavy on her. “I know.”
He half grinned. “Short of aiming an Uzi at me, I’m not sure you could chase me off at this point.”
Oh. Well, now, that sounded nice. She started to smile, but then Stack’s gaze went past her, looking through the side window, and his eyes narrowed.
“Stay put a sec.” Jaw locked, he opened his door and got out.
Vanity twisted to watch as he walked toward two men standing just outside the glare of security lights. Heads down, standing close together, they made an exchange.
Fucking Phil? She assumed so.
Yes, she would stay put as Stack had ordered, but he said nothing about leaving her window up, and in the dark quiet of pre-dawn, she was able to hear his every footfall.
So did the two men. One looked up, then faded farther into the shadows until he disappeared.
Stack didn’t seem to care about him. No, he’d zeroed in on the other guy, the one with the shaggy brown hair, smarmy smile and dark eyes. He was tall, but not as tall as Stack. Leanly built. His posture slouched.
Steps long and sure, Stack made short work of closing the distance.
As if seeking escape, the man glanced around himself but then must have decided against trying to run. Instead, he quickly stuffed something into his pocket and, with terrible acting skills, attempted a jovial greeting.
“Stack. Whassup, man. Haven’t seen you in a long—gak!”
The nervous chatter ended when Stack caught the man by the front of his shirt and stepped him up against a lamppost.
Vanity soaked it all in—mostly just impressed with Stack’s imposing presence, his straight posture while lifting a full-grown man to his tiptoes, and the contained way he muttered a dire threat.
“Get rid of it before you come in the hospital. And I don’t mean to hide it in the car with my sister.”
“Hey, hey,” Phil said, his tone conciliatory. “We drove separate, dude. Chill out.”
“Drove separate, how?”
“Tabby came in your mom’s car.”
Stack released him with a light shove that made Phil’s head ping against the metal pole. A finger pointed in his face kept him there. “You’re on notice. Bring that shit anywhere near my family, and I’ll take you apart.” Turning his back on him, Stack strode away.
“You don’t gotta be like that,” Phil called after him. “It’s just a little weed, man, that’s all.”
Stack didn’t acknowledge him, and Phil, making a stupid face, flipped the bird at his back.
Then he saw Vanity watching. And Stack opening her door. He realized they were together, and he positively blanched.
Lacking any sympathy for the doofus, Vanity ignored him as rudely as Stack had. Together, with Stack’s arm around her, they walked past Phil and into the ER entrance of the hospital.
Stack’s sister was there, waiting for him, her face ravaged from crying—and yet Stack still didn’t seem overly concerned.
Just as the car fire had earlier, he seemed to explode. “This is why you should have kept your sweet ass at home! You don’t even know Phil, so how the hell can you know—”
“You’re yelling at me? Seriously?” Unlike him, she spoke low. And mean. Like...really mean. “My apologies for barging in. I shouldn’t have. Soon as we reach the hospital I’ll call a cab. I can wait in the lobby until it arrives.”
“Fuck.” Pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, Stack muttered again, with more feeling, “Fuck.”
Vanity folded her arms and stared out the passenger window. But she knew she wasn’t being fair, so after six or seven minutes had passed, she took a breath and again faced him.
More moderately, without the sharp bite of anger, she said, “I overstepped when I promised you that I wouldn’t. For that I really am sorry. This was supposed to be simple sex as friends, not a home invasion. My only excuse is that things have gotten off track in a big way. First that awful wreck, and now this...” A deep breath helped her regroup. “I just wanted you, that’s all. And here I am bringing as much drama as your sister, and that just might...might run you off before I even get all the goods.” She made a face. “Best laid plans, right?”
After her rambling explanation, his quiet, “I’m sorry,” meant more just by the simplicity of it.
“You’re sorry?”
“My family has the unique ability to make me lose my cool.” He pulled into the hospital parking lot, chose a spot and stopped the car. Turning in the seat, he faced her. “We need to clear this up.”
Disappointment weighed heavy on her. “I know.”
He half grinned. “Short of aiming an Uzi at me, I’m not sure you could chase me off at this point.”
Oh. Well, now, that sounded nice. She started to smile, but then Stack’s gaze went past her, looking through the side window, and his eyes narrowed.
“Stay put a sec.” Jaw locked, he opened his door and got out.
Vanity twisted to watch as he walked toward two men standing just outside the glare of security lights. Heads down, standing close together, they made an exchange.
Fucking Phil? She assumed so.
Yes, she would stay put as Stack had ordered, but he said nothing about leaving her window up, and in the dark quiet of pre-dawn, she was able to hear his every footfall.
So did the two men. One looked up, then faded farther into the shadows until he disappeared.
Stack didn’t seem to care about him. No, he’d zeroed in on the other guy, the one with the shaggy brown hair, smarmy smile and dark eyes. He was tall, but not as tall as Stack. Leanly built. His posture slouched.
Steps long and sure, Stack made short work of closing the distance.
As if seeking escape, the man glanced around himself but then must have decided against trying to run. Instead, he quickly stuffed something into his pocket and, with terrible acting skills, attempted a jovial greeting.
“Stack. Whassup, man. Haven’t seen you in a long—gak!”
The nervous chatter ended when Stack caught the man by the front of his shirt and stepped him up against a lamppost.
Vanity soaked it all in—mostly just impressed with Stack’s imposing presence, his straight posture while lifting a full-grown man to his tiptoes, and the contained way he muttered a dire threat.
“Get rid of it before you come in the hospital. And I don’t mean to hide it in the car with my sister.”
“Hey, hey,” Phil said, his tone conciliatory. “We drove separate, dude. Chill out.”
“Drove separate, how?”
“Tabby came in your mom’s car.”
Stack released him with a light shove that made Phil’s head ping against the metal pole. A finger pointed in his face kept him there. “You’re on notice. Bring that shit anywhere near my family, and I’ll take you apart.” Turning his back on him, Stack strode away.
“You don’t gotta be like that,” Phil called after him. “It’s just a little weed, man, that’s all.”
Stack didn’t acknowledge him, and Phil, making a stupid face, flipped the bird at his back.
Then he saw Vanity watching. And Stack opening her door. He realized they were together, and he positively blanched.
Lacking any sympathy for the doofus, Vanity ignored him as rudely as Stack had. Together, with Stack’s arm around her, they walked past Phil and into the ER entrance of the hospital.
Stack’s sister was there, waiting for him, her face ravaged from crying—and yet Stack still didn’t seem overly concerned.
