Page 20 of Iron Hearts

We went through the front gate, and I punched in the code for the front door and pointed as we went through it. He slid inside the door to my bathroom, which was blessedly unlocked for once and cracked from where I’d come out earlier before heading to work.

“Rarity?” my mother called questioningly from the living room, where something Disney was playing.

I went around and said, “Yeah, Mom – it’s all good. I’m okay.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, going on high alert as no doubt the smell of alcohol wafted across the living room to her, a hundred times stronger than I usually smelled of it, considering I’d taken quite a few full-fledged fucking showers and baths in it since the brawl started.

“There was a biker brawl at work. Worst one I’ve ever seen. A bunch of bottles got broken, and booze everywhere. They started shooting, but I was already out, thanks to security, and on my way home before things got that bad. I just took a bath in some of the booze. I’m fine! I promise! Look!” I turned this way and that as she stared on in horror and slowly got up from the couch, untangling herself from my brothers and the nest of blankets they were in. She set her bowl of popcorn aside.

“Ashooting?” she asked, voice shaking, her tan floating on top of her skin as she paled, like an oil slick on the water.

“I’m fine!” I reiterated and went to hug her.

She was already keening with her panic and crying.

“Scared the shit out of me, too, but I’m fine. I promise!” I told her, hugging her back with bruising force.

“You stink,” she warbled, and I nodded.

“I know. Just… just let me get a shower really quick, and I’ll come back out. I promise.”

“I’ll put the boys to bed,” she said, and I nodded.

“Okay.” I agreed.

I went into my bathroom and discovered it empty…shit.

Panic rising in my breast that he’d ditched, I slipped through the door to my bedroom and found him sitting on my rumpled bed, talking low and quiet into his phone.

“Yeah, no, I’m on it,” he said. “Get you all out as soon as I can.”

He hung up and looked up at me.

“My mom is putting the boys to bed,” I said. “I’ve got to take a shower and be out there with her for a while. There’s… stuff.” I shrugged kind of lamely, and he arched a brow.

“Stuff?” he asked.

“A long story,” I murmured.

“Do what you gotta do,” he said. “I’ve got to call in the lawyers.”

I nodded and said, “Okay. Thanks for being… cool, I guess.”

“You saved my ass from gettingshotback there,” he said. “I can be cool with a lot of shit after something like that.”

“Fair,” I said, slipping back into my bathroom, starting the shower.

I stripped and got in, trusting that he would be busy with whatever phone calls and that I would have enough time to get in, clean up, and get back out again in a jiff. Maybe I could let him clean up if he did it quickly, then turn off the shower, letting my mom think I just stayed in it for a while.

The shower door slid aside, and I froze.

“Chill,” he said. “I need to clean this up and figure out how bad it is. Figured you didn’t want this running too long or to stop and start it to tip off Mommy dearest.”

I scowled at him. The fact we were both naked and standing within a foot of each other was completely irrelevant with what he’d said about my mom.

“It’s not like that,” I said darkly. “She worries like a mother…” I stopped and said, “Should. Probably more since my dad died.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He just stood there, hands at his sides, and kept his eyes on mine.

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