She cleared her throat. “That’s it?”
He faced her again. She couldn’t see his individual features, so she had to guess what he was thinking. If she had to pick an emotion, she would guess boredom.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“This is as much as you’re doing? Seriously? What kind of crap is that?”
He leaned against the door frame. “You’re not interested in being helped. You’ve made that clear.”
“Not interested? This was the best you could do? I refuse to wash a horse and you’re finished? Is that what you do when those hurt kids come here? Do you even have any training for this kind of work? Are you certified? How much are my sisters paying you?”
“A lot less than they should have been.”
“How did they find you? The phone book?”
“I come highly recommended.”
“Oh, please. I doubt that. I’m not even a hard case. You didn’t make any effort.” Now that she thought about it, he’d done nothing, which really pissed her off. “One or two idiot pep talks and you’re through? A three-day hunger strike and you throw in the towel? Talk about all hat and no cattle.”
“What would you have wanted me to do, Izzy? Beg? I think this is all about being the center of attention. You need everyone running around, fussing over you. Then you’ll be happy. You probably won’t get the surgery because you like being the one everyone worries about.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She wished her throat weren’t so raw so she could yell. How could he think something like that, let alone say it? “I’m not the one pretending to know what he’s doing. You’re nothing but a snake oil salesman. When my sisters find out about this, they’re going to investigate you. You’re going down.”
“You think I’m all talk? What about you? You’re just taking up space.”
She’d never actually hated anyone before. But now the feeling burned hot inside her. “Go to hell.”
“You’ve said that before. You need some new material. Maybe you can take your act on the road. The pity Izzy show. Not that you’ll sell many tickets. You’re okay to look at but once you break the skin, there’s nothing inside. To really be funny you have to be smart and have a world-view. You need to be likeable. None of those are your strengths. Still, you’re a Titan. You have money. You’ll survive. Maybe they’ll get you a nice room with a view. Not that you’ll see it.”
She wanted to throw something at him. She’d nearly finished the drink so she hurled the glass in his direction. It crashed into the door.
“Plastic,” he said, sounding pleased. “It didn’t break. See, Izzy. You can’t hurt me.”
And then he was gone.
IZZY HADN’T EXPECTED to sleep. She’d been so angry, so filled with rage, she’d spent the evening pacing in her room. When Aaron showed up with a sandwich, she’d eaten it because she wanted to be strong. She was going to leave this place, work out with some martial arts master, then break every bone in Nick’s body.
Maybe it was the pacing that exhausted her, or the hot energy of fury or the food in her belly. But sometime in the middle of the night she fell asleep. She only knew because she could suddenly see again.
She was back on the rig, walking down the hallway. There hadn’t been any warning. That’s what she remembered. The absence of a whisper of what was to come. One second she was heading to the mess for breakfast, the next she was in the middle of an explosion, flying through fire.
The brightness of it battled with the sound. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only be tossed around like a kite in the wind. Fire was everywhere. It licked at her skin. She felt sick and terrified and tried to scream, only she couldn’t and then—
“Shh. It’s all right.”
The voice called her back, as did strong arms pulling her upright. She sucked in a breath, then opened her eyes.
“It was just a dream,” Nick told her. “Make that a nightmare. You’re safe.”
Her whole body shook. She was covered in cold sweat and thought she might lose the sandwich she’d eaten earlier. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her heart raced around in her chest until she wondered if she was having a heart attack.
The lights were on, but she still couldn’t see enough. She tried to get free, but he didn’t let her go.
“I know you’re scared. I know it’s real. It was the explosion, right? It’s a bitch to relive that. But you’re safe. You’re here on the ranch. I’m right here.”
Words that shouldn’t have comforted her, she thought, confused. Words he shouldn’t be saying. Still, his body was warm and solid and his arms felt secure enough to keep her from falling.
Gradually her breathing slowed, as did her heart rate.
He sat on her bed, holding her against him. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, as if anchoring her in place. With his free hand, he stroked her head, the side of her face and her arm, rubbing her like a cat. The contact should have been annoying, but it wasn’t. It made her feel safe.
She could feel the warmth of his chest against her cheek, the softness of his T-shirt. His heartbeat was steady and seemed to influence her own.
He drew back a little. “Lie down.”
Not knowing what else to do, she rolled away from him and stretched out under the covers. He moved behind her, pressing his body against hers, her back to his front, his arm around her waist. He found her hand and took it in his.
An intimate position, she thought. It should have been uncomfortable. It should have felt awkward. But all she could think was that he would protect her, no matter what.
“The dreams never go away,” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear. “They fade. You’ll go months without one, but then they’re back. Anything can trigger them.”
“Not comforting news.”
“It’s a fact, Izzy. They exist. They’ll always shake you. It’s not how you handle what comes in the night that’s important. It’s what you do the next morning. And the morning after that.”
“You read that somewhere?”
“I have some personal experience with nightmares.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise her. “Want to talk about them?”
“No.”
“Typical guy.”
“That’s me.”
Her mouth curved into a smile. Then she remembered that he’d been a complete bastard and that she hated him so much that she was planning to learn how to beat the crap out of him. They shouldn’t be getting along.
But
