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I take her by the shoulders and pull her into my arms.
She immediately tries to twist away, so determined to hide her tear-stained face that she won’t accept comfort. I don’t let go.
Something tells me that if I do, she’ll disappear forever.
Raleigh sucks in a shaky breath, her whole body tensing- then she slumps against my chest, her face buried in my collarbone. I hold her tighter, tangling my fingers in her hair and fisting my other hand in her blouse. My chest aches at the sound of her cries and the vulnerable shaking of her body. I realize I know very little about this woman, but I know she doesn’t cry like this in front of others. She bluffs and flirts and feigns ignorance, but she doesn’t claim her own weaknesses even if they’re bared right in front of her.
Either I’ve hurt her so deeply she can’t keep her usual composure, or something about me makes her comfortable with showing me this emotion.
I truly hope it’s the latter, or I’ll put myself in front of Iris’s gun of my own free will.
“You’re not a failure, Raleigh,” I say into her hair. “You don’t have the experience, that’s all. That’s not your fault. It just means the people around you haven’t supported you well enough.”
“Don’t be nice,” Raleigh moans into my shirt. “I’ve disappointed everyone I know. And now I-” She stiffens suddenly, cutting herself off, but she still doesn’t pull away.
I’m ready to lift her off her feet and carry her back to my car, but I don’t want to startle her. “It’s late, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed.”
Raleigh takes a last trembling breath. I don’t know if she’s aware of it, but her head is resting on my shoulder, and it’s torturing me. Finally, she nods and lets me lead her out of the alley, and back down the street to where I left my cruiser.
I don’t open the back seat for her this time. Instead, I let Raleigh climb into the passenger seat of the cruiser, the Corvette will have to wait until tomorrow. She sits quietly as we drive back to the house. Her tears have eased, but she still keeps her thick hair pulled forward like a veil between us. By the time we pull back into the much emptier garage, she’s composed herself- like she never cried at all.
The dogs greet us at the door, and Raleigh is too tired to even grimace at them. I get her a glass of water, which she hardly touches. Then I hear her stomach growl, and realize what part of the problem might be.
“Do you like Thai food?” I offer, and Raleigh just nods.
She’s never been this quiet.
I hate it.
I get in an order just before the Thai place closes. It takes half an hour for our takeout to get to us, and we eat in silence standing at the kitchen island- until Raleigh suddenly looks up from her noodles.
“If you’re really not working with Silver, then I’ll pay to get your car fixed,” she suddenly declares.
I almost cough up my own noodles. “I’m really not working with Silver,” I tell her. “But I don’t need your money.”
She gives me a withering look, and it’s so much more normal than anything else she’s done in the last hour that I feel a wild sense of relief. “You’ve never turned your nose up at Warwick money before.”
I bark a laugh. “Fine then,” I say. “I’ll call to get it towed tomorrow.”
She nods, and apparently that means the matter’s settled.
When we’re done eating, the exhaustion of the day closes back in. We go straight to the bedroom and strip to our underwear. Before she climbs into bed, Raleigh catches something on the floor and picks it up.
It’s the pair of handcuffs I put her in.
Looking me straight in the eyes, she clasps one of the cuffs to her wrist, then reaches for my hand. Fascinated, I give it to her, and she closes the other cuff on me.
“Just in case you still thinkI’mworking for Silver,” she says simply.
CHAPTER 17
Derrick
I wakeup very suddenly the next morning when my wrist isyankedtoward the far edge of the bed. I surge up, rolling over to face and potentially kill whoever is trying to pull my hand from its socket- and see Raleigh standing beside the bed. Her free hand is clamped over her mouth, her face is milk white.
She’s seconds from puking, and we’re still handcuffed together.
I jump over to her side of the bed and run with her into the bathroom. She barely makes it to the toilet before she vomits, and I do my best to get her wild curls out of the way as she does. The sound of her retching makes my chest hurt in sympathy.
