Page 87 of Bad Rio

The break should be made clean, without a lot of uncomfortable hanging around, no second-guessing himself, and absolutely no talk offeelings.

He wasn’t the type ofgoodman Becca needed. After all, he was bad. He should face facts. He wasn’t the decent guy she should have. He’d proven that. Over and over.

He was Bad Rio.

****

They slept nearly aroundthe clock, and Becca woke to see Rio pulling on his pants. It was nearly evening. His movements were necessarily slow. Re-opening his wound again was not an option. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes.

“Hey, sleepy head.” He glanced at her. “Feel okay today?”

The events of the night before flooded back and she groaned. The scene at the Magnolia Inn ... the images of Harrison frog-marching a weakened Rio into an elevator ... the moment when she acted ... the gunshots ... the blood. She shuddered. “I’m not sure yet. Are we still alive?”

“Alive and kicking.” He sat on the bed to pull on socks and tennis shoes.

From the pillows, still nude, she smiled at him. “Hungry? I could eat a horse. I don’t care what time of day it is, I’m thinking about making pancakes, eggs, bacon. And maybe breakfast potatoes. Sound good?” Pushing her arms into the air, she arched her back, and stretched.

“Can I have a rain check?” He shrugged into his button-down shirt and picked up his shoulder bag.

Puzzled, she stopped in mid-stretch. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah.” He picked up his oilskin bag. “Time for me to leave.”

She watched as he slipped the strap across his neck. Perhaps it was the dullness of her just-waking brain, but she didn’t understand him. “To leave for where?”

“Just time for me to go. You’re safe now, with no further threat. All the bad guys are neutralized.” He turned and left the bedroom, stopping in the kitchen to fill a quick glass of water from the faucet.

Bewildered, she grabbed a light wrapper and followed. As he drained his glass and set it in the sink, she pulled on her wrapper and tied it at her waist. “Sorry, I just woke up, but I’m a little foggy. What’s going on here? You’re leaving ... like ... for good?”

He went to her front door and disengaged the dead bolt. “The job’s done. Time for me to head out.”

Her jaw dropped and the mists of sleep fled. A hideous shock spiraled up her spine. “You’re heading out as inmoving on?”

Coming back to her, he cupped her jaw. “I’ll miss you.”

Her eyes round, she heard herself repeat him like a stupid parrot. “You’llmissme? I—I thought. Well, I figured—” Stopping herself, she felt unexpected tears well in her lower lids. Growing frantic, she searched his eyes. Hadn’t she always told herself he wouldn’t stay with her? Hadn’t she long ago realized the hard truth—that he wasn’t going to be her man?

“You didn’t figure I’d stick around,” he scolded her gently. “I never made promises. Never said we’d get married or anything crazy. You knew that.”

All at once she found standing before her the old Rio, the one who’d first confronted her in the cabin. He was again the aloof, uncaring, detached man she’d once discovered him to be. Had she been right about him all along? Was he truly cold? Was he incapable of emotionally caring for another human being?

She felt her throat working. Pain took hold, grew in her chest, stabbed like a hundred sharpened knives. She jerked her chin from his hand. “You never promised to stay with me,” she acknowledged. “Actually, I didn’t think you would.” She gave an awkward laugh. “I just thought ... silly me, that you’d want to.”

A shadow passed over his face. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m tempted, but I’m just not the committing kind. I gotta keep moving, you know?”

“You’re tempted,” she repeated. Why did she keep echoing everything he said? She was having trouble understanding. “You’re walking out on me—away fromus?” He was abandoning their deep connection, their intense relationship, and he was doing it like it wasnothing?

A new anger mingled with the heartache.

His hand went to the knob. He was just walking out. Going to the next job, and naturally the nextwomanas though the magic between the two of them had no more importance than a casual fling. As though what they had wasn’t incredibly intense, or valuable, or life changing, or something to be honored. Somethingprecious.

“Rio,” she whispered. “Please.”

He stiffened, turned to face her. His features hardened. “You’ll be all right, Becca. You have your family. You’ll find somebody else. You’ve got your business. Your damn hubcaps.”

“Mydamnhubcaps?” That stung. She felt her trembling lips firm. “I realize my wheel cover business isn’t curing cancer, but we do provide a service and products people need and want.”

“Yeah, well, when it cures cancer, give me a holler.” He opened the locks. “They’re not that important in the world, your hubcaps. Don’t make a big deal out of them.”

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