Read Online Crime Seen by Victoria Laurie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Victoria Laurie
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Dutch’s mouth set and he stared down at the comforter. Then he said, ‘‘Okay,’’ and rolled onto his back, clicking the TV back on.
I stood there dumbfounded for a beat or two. ‘‘That’s it?’’ I said sharply. ‘‘You’re just going to give up and go back to watching the game?’’
Dutch gave me a puzzled expression. ‘‘Did you want to talk or something?’’ he asked me, and shut the TV off again.
I looked at the set and back to him, my anger beginning to mount. ‘‘What the hell’s happened to you anyway?’’ I demanded. ‘‘Seriously, Dutch. I know I got shot, and I’m dealing with this stupid post-traumatic crap, but what the hell happened to you?’’
Dutch blinked at me and sat up. ‘‘Abby,’’ he said in a very calm voice. ‘‘I’m going to need you to give me a hint here, ’cuz I really don’t know why you’re upset.’’
I scowled at him and turned to the suitcase where I kept the tank top and shorts I slept in. I paused and folded my arms, trying to keep a lid on the hurt and anger bouncing around inside of me. ‘‘I miss us,’’ I said finally. ‘‘I miss you.’’
‘‘Edgar,’’ he said softly, ‘‘I’m right here, babe. I haven’t gone anywhere.’’
‘‘The hell you haven’t,’’ I barked. ‘‘What happened to the guy who used to flirt with me until I gave in? The guy who would know that my saying ‘I’m not sure I’m in the mood’ means ‘ put me in the mood already’!’’ Dutch was silent behind me and I waited a beat before continuing. ‘‘I got injured, Dutch—I haven’t died. I’m beginning to think that the reason I keep retreating from the world is because I’m afraid of it. And I think you’re making it easy for me to feel that way.’’
‘‘I see,’’ he said, and I could tell I’d struck a nerve.
‘‘No, you don’t,’’ I sighed, opening my suitcase to fish out my jammies. ‘‘You think that I’m blaming you, but I’m not. I just want you to be you again. I don’t want you to tread carefully around me. I don’t want you to treat me like I might break, and shelter me from the world. I want you to push me—hard. Every time I back off something that’s a step in the right direction, like going back to work, or helping Milo, or working out with Candice, I want you to be there to call me on my shit.’’
‘‘Fine,’’ he said as I turned around and met those fabulous midnight blues. ‘‘I promise I’ll push, but I guarantee you’re not gonna like it.’’
‘‘Of course I’m not gonna like it,’’ I said, smiling at him. ‘‘But I’ll love you for being in my corner, cowboy.’’
‘‘Get over here,’’ he said, his own mouth curling into a seductive grin. ‘‘I have something interesting to show you, and a mood to get you in.’’
The crack of dawn came friggin’ early the next morning, and I so wanted to do nothing more than roll over and go back to sleep. Dutch, however, was taking his new responsibility of pushing me back into the swing of things with relish. He leaped up at the sound of the alarm and came around to my side of the bed. ‘‘Morning, sunshine!’’ he sang, his voice so loud it echoed off the walls. ‘‘Rise and shine!’’
‘‘Five minutes,’’ I mumbled and pulled the covers up.
‘‘Not even five seconds,’’ he said and yanked the covers right off the bed.
I curled around my pillow and pulled my knees to my chest. I can be a stubborn git when I want to be. ‘‘Five minutes!’’
Dutch pushed his arms under me and picked me right up out of bed. ‘‘You don’t want to be late,’’ he said and carried me to the bathroom, where he plopped me down on the side of the tub. ‘‘A little cold water should do the trick,’’ he said as I worked to open my eyelids.
A second later the faucet went on and I felt the shock of cold water on my face. ‘‘Hey!’’ I yelled and swatted at him. ‘‘Stop!’’
‘‘Just pushing you
I stood there dumbfounded for a beat or two. ‘‘That’s it?’’ I said sharply. ‘‘You’re just going to give up and go back to watching the game?’’
Dutch gave me a puzzled expression. ‘‘Did you want to talk or something?’’ he asked me, and shut the TV off again.
I looked at the set and back to him, my anger beginning to mount. ‘‘What the hell’s happened to you anyway?’’ I demanded. ‘‘Seriously, Dutch. I know I got shot, and I’m dealing with this stupid post-traumatic crap, but what the hell happened to you?’’
Dutch blinked at me and sat up. ‘‘Abby,’’ he said in a very calm voice. ‘‘I’m going to need you to give me a hint here, ’cuz I really don’t know why you’re upset.’’
I scowled at him and turned to the suitcase where I kept the tank top and shorts I slept in. I paused and folded my arms, trying to keep a lid on the hurt and anger bouncing around inside of me. ‘‘I miss us,’’ I said finally. ‘‘I miss you.’’
‘‘Edgar,’’ he said softly, ‘‘I’m right here, babe. I haven’t gone anywhere.’’
‘‘The hell you haven’t,’’ I barked. ‘‘What happened to the guy who used to flirt with me until I gave in? The guy who would know that my saying ‘I’m not sure I’m in the mood’ means ‘ put me in the mood already’!’’ Dutch was silent behind me and I waited a beat before continuing. ‘‘I got injured, Dutch—I haven’t died. I’m beginning to think that the reason I keep retreating from the world is because I’m afraid of it. And I think you’re making it easy for me to feel that way.’’
‘‘I see,’’ he said, and I could tell I’d struck a nerve.
‘‘No, you don’t,’’ I sighed, opening my suitcase to fish out my jammies. ‘‘You think that I’m blaming you, but I’m not. I just want you to be you again. I don’t want you to tread carefully around me. I don’t want you to treat me like I might break, and shelter me from the world. I want you to push me—hard. Every time I back off something that’s a step in the right direction, like going back to work, or helping Milo, or working out with Candice, I want you to be there to call me on my shit.’’
‘‘Fine,’’ he said as I turned around and met those fabulous midnight blues. ‘‘I promise I’ll push, but I guarantee you’re not gonna like it.’’
‘‘Of course I’m not gonna like it,’’ I said, smiling at him. ‘‘But I’ll love you for being in my corner, cowboy.’’
‘‘Get over here,’’ he said, his own mouth curling into a seductive grin. ‘‘I have something interesting to show you, and a mood to get you in.’’
The crack of dawn came friggin’ early the next morning, and I so wanted to do nothing more than roll over and go back to sleep. Dutch, however, was taking his new responsibility of pushing me back into the swing of things with relish. He leaped up at the sound of the alarm and came around to my side of the bed. ‘‘Morning, sunshine!’’ he sang, his voice so loud it echoed off the walls. ‘‘Rise and shine!’’
‘‘Five minutes,’’ I mumbled and pulled the covers up.
‘‘Not even five seconds,’’ he said and yanked the covers right off the bed.
I curled around my pillow and pulled my knees to my chest. I can be a stubborn git when I want to be. ‘‘Five minutes!’’
Dutch pushed his arms under me and picked me right up out of bed. ‘‘You don’t want to be late,’’ he said and carried me to the bathroom, where he plopped me down on the side of the tub. ‘‘A little cold water should do the trick,’’ he said as I worked to open my eyelids.
A second later the faucet went on and I felt the shock of cold water on my face. ‘‘Hey!’’ I yelled and swatted at him. ‘‘Stop!’’
‘‘Just pushing you
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