THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,44

great. A stranger looking on would think good and bad. Except they’d pin the wrong guy as bad, I’m sure of it.

“What the fuck, Winnie? Who the hell is this guy?” Nash asks, his face turning a bright shade of red.

Maverick doesn’t speak. He just looks at me, like he wants to know what I’ll say just as much as the Nashhole. It breaks my heart even further. His hazel eyes are glistening. He is enraged to the point that every emotion is blistering to the surface. And I’m the one who did this to him.

Without looking away from Maverick’s gaze I say, “He’s a risk worth taking.” I speak just loud enough for both of them to hear.

Maverick lets Nash’s feet touch the floor. He closes his eyes, trying to reign in whatever it is that affects him so greatly. One deep breath later, he’s back.

“Meet Nashhole, Maverick,” I say, when he looks at me grinning the mean spirited, scary as hell smile.

Nashhole clears his throat. “You’re here to kill me? Aren’t you?” Maverick, who has yet to release him, turns that same look on him.

“No, even though I think it would be therapeutic for me at the moment,” Maverick says.

Johnny whimpers a little. “Winnie…” he whines.

“Don’t say her fucking name one more time,” Maverick growls. Speaking directly to me for the first time, he says, “What do you want me to do with him, Win?”

The instinct to protect the foul human that once held my heart in his hands appears, but I shove it back down and remind it how insane I was for a long time. The Nashhole looks at me with a crazed look in his eyes. He thinks I’ll order his death or something. The prick obviously never knew me—not even one bit. The whole thing is so sad.

“Hit him for me,” I command. There’s no inflection in my tone and it scares me.

Maverick punches once. Once is all it takes, and it looks like he held back. Actually I’m sure he did. Bones crunch and blood trickles down from his nose and lips. Johnny slinks to the floor holding his face in his hands. I’ve never seen him that low. He was on a pedestal so high, for so long, that it’s like I’m looking at someone else. The sight flips my stomach and shatters my heart, but then I glance at Maverick and he’s staring at me, looking for my approval. He doesn’t give a shit about anything else, just how I feel. If only the simple, bloody one treated me the same way.

I walk over to my hotel door. I hear Maverick actually helping the Nashhole up, uttering heated words under his breath. Threatening I’m sure. Johnny scurries down the hall like a beaten dog. I don’t turn around, but I know he’s there. My skin prickles with awareness, like it always does when he’s close.

“Thank you,” I whisper softly. “I’m so sorry.” I don’t say exactly what I’m sorry for because it’s supposed to encompass so many things, including the things I’m not supposed to know about. I slide my key into the door and walk through. I hold it open for him. He doesn’t stop looking at me, my face—trying to read what’s in my head. “Come in,” I say, though it sounds more like a question.

He hesitates a few more seconds, but must come to a conclusion with his case study because he strides in. He stops in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, his back facing me. The sun hits at the perfect angle, silhouetting him —like an avenging angel or something equally as impressive.

“What did I do, Win? You just left. You were supposed to come to my house. If it was too much, too soon, you should have told me. I’d never pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do. That’s it, right? That has to be it.”

He has no clue why I left. Even more guilt comes up, twisting my stomach into knots. All weekend he thought I ran because I was scared of sex…or of furthering our relationship. I shake my head, even though he can’t see it.

“I don’t know if I can handle your past. Seeing you with all of the women reminded me of the person you are,” I say quietly.

“Was. The person I was,” he says a little more loudly. He turns and faces me. He freezes me to the spot with his accusatory glare. “I