The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 226: Chapter 226 - Too Complicated

Ethan reached the bungalow less than twenty minutes after Roxie sent the message.

She heard his motorcycle coming down the road before the headlight passed across the curtains. The engine cut near the front yard, and his boots struck the porch a few seconds later.

”Roxie?”

She remained on the floor beside the couch with Claire’s ashes held against her chest. Her crying had stopped, but every few breaths still caught inside her throat. Her face felt swollen, and both thighs throbbed beneath her clothes.

Ethan knocked again.

”Rox, open the door.”

”It’s open.”

The handle turned immediately.

Ethan stepped inside and stopped.

Broken glass covered part of the kitchen floor. Zac’s clothes remained scattered near the couch, and the Tennessee papers had slid beneath the coffee table. Roxie sat in the middle of everything with her sleeves pulled over her hands and Claire’s ashes pressed hard enough against her body to hurt.

Ethan closed the door behind him.

”What happened?”

Roxie tried standing, but pain tightened through her thighs before she made it halfway. Her knees shook, and she lowered herself again with one hand gripping the couch.

Ethan started toward her. Glass cracked beneath his boot, making him look down and step back.

”Do you need a doctor?”

”No.”

”Look at me.”

Roxie kept her face lowered.

”Roxie.”

She lifted her head.

His expression changed when he saw her swollen eyes. His gaze dropped to the marks showing beneath her sleeves, then moved over the clothes and papers around her.

”Did somebody hurt you?”

”No. It’s not that.” Roxie pulled her sleeves lower. ”I need someone with me right now.”

”And I was your choice?”

She gave him a bitter smile. ”Unfortunately. Besides, it’s literally your fault Zac and I got into a fight.”

Ethan sighed. ”Fine. I’ll send you my therapy bill later.”

He crouched several feet away and studied her for another moment before lowering himself onto the floor with his back against the couch.

”Talk.”

Roxie rubbed her thumb across the lid of the container.

”Mr. Robinson came here.”

”Your boss?”

”He’s my father.”

Ethan stared at her.

Roxie gave a weak laugh that scraped against her throat. ”Yeah. That was my reaction too.”

She told him everything.

The words came badly at first. She kept stopping whenever her throat closed, then rushed through the next part before she lost the nerve to continue. Ethan remained silent while she spoke. His face hardened, but he never interrupted.

By the time she finished, her voice had gone hoarse.

Ethan rubbed one hand across his mouth and stared at the floor. For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Roxie tightened her arms around the ashes.

”I tried to throw her away. I went outside and tried, but I couldn’t do it.”

Ethan looked at the container.

”I wanted her gone,” Roxie said. ”I wanted everything that belonged to her out of this house, but my hands wouldn’t open.”

Her mouth began trembling again.

”That doesn’t make you horrible.”

”How would you know?”

”Because you’re sitting on the floor holding her like somebody might take her from you.”

Roxie looked down.

Tears dropped onto the lid.

”I hate that I still love her.”

Ethan rested his forearms across his knees. ”That sounds like her fault too.”

A sob broke through before Roxie could stop it. She bent over the ashes and pressed her forehead against the container while her shoulders shook.

”I’m tired,” she whispered.

”I bet. You look terrible.”

Roxie lifted her head and glared at him through swollen eyes.

Ethan raised one shoulder. ”I came here fast. I didn’t have time to prepare something comforting.”

A laugh pushed through her tears. It hurt her chest, but it sounded real enough that she covered her mouth.

Ethan stood and looked toward the kitchen.

”Stay there.”

He found the broom beside the refrigerator and began sweeping the broken glass into a pile.

”You don’t have to clean.”

”I know. Somebody has to make sure you don’t walk through this and bleed all over the floor.”

Roxie looked away.

Ethan slowed the broom. ”What happened to your legs?”

”I sat on the floor too long.”

”That isn’t what that looked like.”

”I said I sat too long.”

His eyes stayed on her face.

Roxie tightened her arms around the ashes.

Ethan returned to the glass without asking again.

He swept carefully beneath the table and couch, then wrapped the larger pieces inside a folded paper towel before throwing them away. When he reached Zac’s Tennessee papers, he lowered the broom and collected them without turning any over. He stacked them facedown on the coffee table without pausing over Zac’s handwriting.

Then he looked at the container in Roxie’s arms.

”Where does she go?”

Roxie pointed toward the shelf beside the kitchen.

Ethan came closer but waited for her to release it.

She hesitated before holding the ashes out.

He took the container with both hands and placed it beside Claire’s blue mug. He moved the mug farther back, then tested the container with one finger to make sure it would remain upright.

Roxie watched until he stepped away.

Ethan picked up the blanket from the couch and held out one hand.

”Come on.”

”I can stand.”

”I’m sure you can. Do it before I get bored.”

Roxie planted one palm against the cushion and pushed herself up. Pain spread through both thighs, forcing her knees together.

Ethan caught her elbow when her balance shifted.

”I’ve got it.”

”You almost fell.”

Roxie pulled her arm free and lowered herself onto the couch. Ethan placed the blanket over her legs before carrying the untouched water glass into the kitchen.

He washed it, set it beside the sink, and opened the refrigerator.

”What are you doing now?”

”Looking for food.”

”I’m not hungry.”

”I am, and I wasn’t asking.”

He moved two containers, opened one, smelled it, then immediately closed it.

”Your kitchen is depressing.”

”You can leave.”

Ethan shut the refrigerator and looked over his shoulder. ”Right. Why didn’t I think of that?”

He searched the cabinets and found a can of broth, noodles, an onion, and two carrots beginning to soften.

”You’re going to cook for me?” Roxie asked.

”No. I’m cooking for myself.”

Roxie rested her head against the couch and watched him.

It felt strange having him move around the bungalow. He was intruding, opening cabinets and searching through the refrigerator, but she did not want him to leave.

Zac had stood in the same kitchen and cooked for her.

Now Ethan was there too.

Guilt pressed against her chest when she thought about Karen and Angela. She had never invited either of them into the bungalow like this. She had kept everyone outside, yet Ethan had entered after one message and found the remains of her fight with Zac scattered across the floor.

Ethan washed the vegetables and found a knife. He pressed the blade against a carrot, frowned, then tried again.

”This knife is useless.”

”It works fine.”

”For what? Threatening butter?”

Roxie sighed and curled tighter beneath the blanket. Talking to him was a waste of time. He would keep being annoying, exactly as he was at work.

The knife struck the cutting board in slow, uneven beats. Water ran into a pot. Cabinet doors opened and closed while Ethan searched for salt.

The smell of broth and onion spread through the bungalow. It smelled nothing like Zac’s cooking, but Roxie still swallowed as her stomach tightened. She had barely eaten all day.

Ethan brought a bowl to the coffee table and placed it beside Zac’s papers.

”Eat.”

”I’m not hungry.”

The lie barely left her before her stomach protested loudly.

Ethan raised one eyebrow and waited.

Roxie glared at him before begrudgingly picking up the spoon.

The soup was plain. The noodles had gone soft, and the carrots were cut into pieces too large for one bite. It still went down more easily than the cracker.

Ethan pulled a dining chair closer and sat across from her. He folded his arms while Roxie swallowed another spoonful.

Warmth spread through her stomach. The pressure behind her eyes remained, but it no longer felt ready to split her head open.

She studied Ethan.

His blond hair had been flattened by his helmet, and grease marked the side of one hand. He had skipped school for her again.

He caught her staring.

”What?”

”Do you like me?”

Her face heated as soon as she asked. This was Zac’s fault for putting the thought in her head, but she needed to know. She did not want this level of care from someone who was waiting for her relationship to fail.

Ethan frowned. ”As a person?”

”You know what I mean.”

He suddenly laughed.

Roxie’s face became hotter.

”The fuck? No.”

”You could’ve pretended to think about it.”

”Why?”

”So it wouldn’t sound insulting.”

Ethan laughed harder and wiped the corner of one eye. ”You’re asking me that while wearing your boyfriend’s shirt.”

Roxie looked down.

His laughter eased as he leaned farther back in the chair.

”You’re too complicated for my taste.”

A laugh escaped her.

The movement hurt her chest, but she kept laughing until her eyes watered again.

”You didn’t have to say it like that.”

”You’re the one who thinks highly of yourself.”

Roxie picked up the spoon again, her face still burning.

”Fuck off. I’m only asking so I can properly break your heart.” She looked at him suspiciously. ”What if I broke up with Zac and got with you?”

Ethan laughed immediately.

Her eyes narrowed. ”Why is that funny?”

”Bullshit. You’re a sucker for that guy.” He paused. ”Actually, that’s wrong. You’re obsessed.”

Roxie tried hiding another laugh by taking a bite of soup.

Obsessed was not the word she would have used.

”I know you’re wondering how you got an awesome friend like me,” Ethan continued. ”The answer is simple. I like picking up abandoned puppies from the road.”

Roxie rolled her eyes.

”Relax. I’ll be your friend. I’ll answer when you call. I’ll even make terrible soup.” He gestured toward the bowl. ”Anything past that sounds dangerous.”

Roxie looked toward Zac’s shirt near the coffee table. Her face remained warm with embarrassment, but relief settled beneath it.

Ethan was a good friend.

Zac was simply jealous.

Then Zac’s battered face returned to her. The girls around him. The duffel packed with clothes. The way his hands had closed around her wrists when she would not stop hitting him.

”He left because I’m hard to deal with.”

Ethan unfolded his arms, frustration crossing his face. ”You both had a bad fight, but what he did at the restaurant wasn’t okay.”

”He just likes me too much.”

Ethan leaned forward and rested his elbows against his knees.

”Yeah, I heard that one in a documentary. I think the title was Husband Kills Wife Because of Jealousy.”

A weak laugh broke through the heaviness in Roxie’s chest.

”Fuck off.”

”I’m serious. You both need to talk properly.”

”I know.”

Roxie placed the bowl on the coffee table and tried standing so she could carry it to the kitchen herself.

Pain tightened through her thighs.

Her knees folded before she fully rose, and Ethan caught her before she slipped from the couch. He sat beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her upright.

Roxie pressed her face against his jacket.

”Thank you,” she whispered. ”For coming.”

”It’s fine. Class was boring anyway.”

The front door opened.

Roxie lifted her head.

Zac stood in the doorway.

His gaze moved across the cleaner bungalow, the bowl of soup on the table, and the blanket covering Roxie’s legs before settling on Ethan’s arm around her shoulders.

His bruised face hardened.

”Get your hands off her.”