Page 62 of Hearts at War

“Then maybe be a little more understanding and consider giving just a warning or something, you know?” Roarke raised his brows. “It’s not necessary to make her end her work day on a bad note, is it?”

“No, but...” Marty sighed, then frowned at him.

“Do it as a favor. For me, huh?” Roarke patted his shoulder.

What! A favor?

No. No, no, no. I didn’t like this. This was spiraling even worse. I had no clue how Roarke got off on thinking I was his responsibility to save. I didn’t see where he’d gotten it in his head that he could have the right to try to manipulate or decide anything that happened in my life.

But it seemed he was trying to do just that.

A favor?

That only meant I’d be indebted to him.

That I’d have to pay him back somehow, and this was not my first rodeo with that.

I didn’t want a ticket, but I wanted a man to assume the role of my “hero” even less.

“Yeah, I guess.” Marty shrugged, buying Roarke’s line. He turned his attention to his radio piece on his shoulder. “By the time I write it all up and such, the traffic out on the expressway would be even more snarled.”

Roarke nodded. “What’d she say?” he asked, referring to the staticky words spoken by the dispatcher in calling for all nearby units to help at the scene. “Semi overturned?”

Marty sighed. “Yeah. Again. I wish they’d wrap up that damn construction already. Never get accidents without it all messed up like that.” He faced me, handing back my ID and registration. “Heather, you watch that speed. We’ve got lots of speeders coming through here lately.”

Roarke scoffed. “We do?”

“Yeah. I’ve had to pull that guy in the rental over several times this week.” Marty shook his head. “Not going that fast, but he’s sticking with going over the limit no matter what.” He faced me again, kindly, but firm. “Please watch that speed, all right?”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded once and took the documents back.

As he walked away, Roarke lingered.

I glared at him, unable to hide my most immediate reaction to him stepping up and taking charge of an incident in my life.

“You all right?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

You have to ask? I knew I looked like a ball of anxiety, clutching my steering wheel and likely white as a ghost.

“No, I’m not fucking all right,” I snapped as I put my car into gear and drove off. “And it’s not your worry why I’m not.”

I didn’t need to look in the mirror to see that he was driving right behind me. Of course, he was. He lived out here and had to go the same way I did. His truck bounced and rocked a safe distance after my car as I drove at a careful speed, eye on the speedometer.

I reached my cabin and wished I could exhale a deep breath of relief at the sight of it. It still wasn’t homey, but it had become a haven, a safe place I could know I’d be alone.

Except now. Roarke parked next to me. He wasn’t continuing on toward his cabin, and it was for that reason alone that I couldn’t sigh and be calmer to be home.

I was more than peeved, and I hated that as I got out of my car and slammed the door shut that I had to use my energy to resist him. To fight him back and convince him that now was not a good time. No time would be good. I’d been an idiot to think I could lower my guard around him.

One potential glimpse of David and I was spiraling into a complete mess.

“Go away,” I warned.

He scowled at me, walking after me as I went to my door. My fingers shook, rattling my key. My vision blurred with the onset of pending tears. And I could not handle it if he wanted to play the role of a hero as I broke down.

“Back off, Roarke. I mean it.” The second the words came out of my mind, I cringed a bit. Just hearing myself out loud, I registered how downright mean I sounded. I was grateful. I was. It was nice not to have to pay off a citation. But I had no time to deal with the guilt about talking so harshly to him after he’d done me a favor.

He could tell. Whirling around to face me at my door, I glowered at him harder, all the more to hide how freaked out I was inside.