still acting like I’m making a request,” Owen said, his expression hardening. “I’m looking out for her best interests.”
“She didn’t say no,” Hayworth said desperately from the corner. “All I did was kiss her, touch her a little bit. That’s it. I’ve never forced myself on any woman.”
“Since you’re high as a fucking kite, you might want to shut up,” Marcus advised. His green eyes were colder than Rory had ever seen them, telling him Marcus was just as pissed as he was. Only whereas Rory ran hot in a temper, Marcus went cold as ice. He looked ready to toss Hayworth in a car, find a river and a few heavy rocks.
A glance toward the door showed Rory that Brick had arrived, as well as other people from the party, including Fran Potts. They were drawing attention from the auditorium.
Rory still had his hand on her shoulder, his thumb resting on her collar bone. He could feel her vibrating under his hand. How could he explain how much she needed him with her, to help translate what had happened?
The bitch of it was, if she said, “I want Rory to stay,” Owen wouldn’t be able to override him. But she wouldn’t. Rory knew she wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
The frustration, the anger, the helplessness, were tearing him up inside. The worst part of it was some of that frustration was spilling out toward her, even as he knew she couldn’t help it.
He couldn’t stop being human, but he could help her by pushing past that, past everything that had to do with him, because this wasn’t about him.
“I get you don’t want me with her. But please, Owen. I’m begging you…” Daralyn twitched as his voice roughened. “Let my mother stay and help her. Please. You know Daralyn’s history.”
At least he hoped he did. Owen had been a deputy when the sheriff removed Daralyn from her uncle’s home. Beyond that, everyone in this town knew everyone else’s business.
Owen shifted his glance to Elaine, then back to Daralyn. His mother had stepped forward. No matter what she was feeling, she projected a practical calm and earnest desire to help that couldn’t have come at a better time. Elaine was friends with Owen’s parents. His jaw relaxed slightly.
“Okay. Long as she doesn’t interfere.”
Rory stroked Daralyn’s cheek. She hadn’t lifted her head since she’d knelt in front of him. He wanted to stay with her more than anything in the whole world, and he wanted her to know that. He hoped his touch told her, as well as what he did next.
Every time the girl hit a bad moment, it was like she became a vampire. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her, snugged it over her shoulders. A second later, one set of fingers crept around a lapel, pulled it close. The other hand rested on his foot, fingers against his ankle.
“I’ll be close, baby,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Don’t worry.”
Elaine moved forward. Now that she was closer, he saw the worry and strain in her expression. For him, as well as Daralyn.
Owen gave him the stare that said he was done waiting. He could go fuck himself, but Rory made himself back up. The hand that had been resting on his ankle fell limply away from him. Despite him having no feeling there, it felt like a strip of skin had been torn off.
Owen glanced at his deputies, jerked his head at Hayworth. “Take him to one of the empty classrooms and hold onto him for questioning. Keep them apart.”
He didn’t have to specify who he meant, since if Rory got within arms’ reach of Hayworth, he’d knock every one of his damn teeth out. Thomas and Marcus looked fully on board with that.
It kept replaying in his head, seeing Hayworth’s hands on her, up her skirt. Her hand had been resting on Hayworth’s forearm. To someone who didn’t know her, it might have looked like she was welcoming the embrace. But that was only if they hadn’t noticed everything else, like the vacant look in her eyes, and how, except for a quiver like a struck tuning fork, she wasn’t moving. The arm had been rigid, like the branch of a tree with roots planted in the cafeteria tiles.
The deputies had flanked Hayworth and were gesturing Rory, Marcus and Thomas out of the room ahead of them. Hayworth was still talking a mile a minute, making it even clearer he was high. Probably drunk to boot.