Page 28 of Hero & Villain
He grinned and finished cleaning my knee and bandaging me up like he had all the time in the world with the rain pounding on the windshield. I’d never felt so safe and cozy, like nothing could hurt me in that little truck cab as long as Dirk was there. I wanted to make it mine, to make him mine, and keep them both. But I couldn’t, and the wanting was going to destroy me like I was going to destroy him.
Chapter Ten
VILLAIN
Dirk dropped me off at Jessie’s barracks while it was still raining. I jumped out of the truck and ran for the door, refusing to look back at the man I’d come so far to ruin. I was still recovering from bruises only to scrape off half the skin on my leg on the cliff face. The only thing I’d hurt was his shoulder, and only that because he had a hero complex whether he admitted it or not.
I limped into the front hall, my wet sneakers squeaking on the tile floor. I leaned against the front door and closed my eyes, putting my weight on my uninjured leg. I’d spent all day with him. I should have had him eating out of the palm of my hand, but I was much closer to falling for him than he was for me. Like the soft brush of a kiss he gave me. Was I ever going to forget that? No. Would he forget me being idiotic? Also probably no.
I groaned as I struggled with my wet shoes. He didn’t like dyed hair. He liked tough women who could climb a cliff without getting paralyzed by fear. I should have played hard to get, not kissed him and then pushed him away repeatedly while insulting him. I was not cute when I insulted people. Except Philippe had laughed at me the one time I’d used my new vocabulary on himafter Juvie. He’d looked at me like I was an adorable puppy, although he was the kind of person who kicked puppies.
I finally got my shoes off and left them in the entry before limping to the kitchen, leaving a wet trail behind me. Dirk hadn’t tried to stop anywhere for dinner or brought out the cooler again. I wanted to hit my head against something. Toni would have eaten a sandwich that fell in the dirt. I’d really acted like a prissy princess for some unknowable reason. Like I couldn’t remember how not to be an ice queen.
Whatever.
I ate some Italian leftovers in the fridge and then washed up before going down the hall to the music room. The room was dark, but instead of turning on a light, I made my way blindly through the instruments to Othello. I didn’t want to see anything, particularly any partial reflections of myself in any of the polished instruments.
I exhaled in relief as I sat down on the grand piano’s bench and propped the cello between my legs. It was old, ancient, and it sang a song that reminded me of Straw. I played a few pieces of Bach before my fingers moved on to the song from the climb down the cliff. I’d never played anything from my own head. I’d never heard music unless I saw it in front of me before, at least not as long as I could remember. It seemed that when my mother was alive, we’d sung together, but it was hard to remember anything before she died.
I shoved thoughts of her out of my head and lost myself in the cello, exploring sounds and phrases until pale dawn crept over the floor, reminding me of my aching back and sore knee. Knee? All of me ached. I stretched and stood, carefully carrying the cello back to its stand.
I brushed the neck reverently and then turned. Jezebel was sitting cross-legged on the floor with diagrams spread around her. I hadn’t even noticed her. Weird. Scary. But did I reallycare? She had me unconscious for three days. If she was going to do something to me, she’d probably already done it.
“You said you weren’t good,” she said without looking up.
“If you think I’m good, you have no ear.”
She glanced up and grinned. “I have no ear. I collect instruments, but not because I play them.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down. “What did that cretin do to you? You looked bad enough when I left you with him. Did you fall off a horse?”
“A cliff.” I glanced down at my knee and scowled. “I’m sorry about your jeans.”
“Those were good denim, too. If you’d been wearing leggings…” She sighed and leaned back on her arms while she studied me. “I’m going to leave you home by yourself today. You can’t limp around like that, and you’ll need to sleep after making love to my cello all night. Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone.”
“What are you working on? Are you going to take over the world?”
She shuffled her papers together, but I saw a map and what looked like targets. It probably had something to do with the routes they were going to take in the next race. “It’s for our girl’s night this coming weekend. You should be recovered if Dirk doesn’t throw you off any more cliffs.” She flashed a grin and stood.
I yawned and limped towards my room. “I’d tell you I don’t need to recuperate, but the thought of seeing him again so soon makes me feel positively queasy.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did he do to you?”
“He’s just disgusting.”
“He made a pass at you? Is that why you fell, because he was coming on to you and you backed up?”
I rubbed my face. Did I actually have to tell her about it? Maybe she could help me make sense of it. “I was a dominatrix two weeks ago. I can handle men making passes at me. He’s just weird and random. No, I fell from my own genius. He kept me from hurting myself worse. If I ask you to change my bandage, will you knock me out for half a week again?” I stared at her, and she stared back. I hadn’t meant to be quite so honest, but I was exhausted, and half-high from playing an exquisite cello all night after a week of abstinence.
She raised her eyebrows. “I don’t make any promises, but it isn’t likely. These are expensive drugs. I don’t use them just on anyone. Come on.”
She patched me up in an enormous bathroom next to a closet full of sequined bras and minuscule denim shorts. She ripped the bandage off briskly. She poked the injury, which looked absolutely terrible in this light. “Dirk bandaged this up? His talents lie elsewhere.”
I bit my bottom lip and tried to think of something else. “What are you going to do for Girl’s Night Out? Why would you need maps of New Mexico?”
“You have sharp eyes. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Do you want to come?”
“Oh, I didn’t ask because I wanted to be invited.”
Her eyes went hard. “It’s the weekend before a big race. Everyone will take it off to do whatever keeps them from stressing out and performing badly. Some people get massages. We’re interested in a little more active sport.”
