Nash

CHAPTER 13 Nash

“Cora brought the baby by. I can’t believe how tiny she is.”

I nodded and handed Phil a glass of water. He looked awful. It pained me to see him like this, wasting away, the bedroom in his condo was basically converted into a hospital room. The more time went on, the skinnier he got, the worse his pallor looked, and I could hear how gasping and sucking each breath he took in and out sounded. I bent my head down and stared at the carpet between the toes of my Vans. I didn’t want him to see how hard these visits were getting for me.

“She looks like a little doll when Rome holds her. She almost fits in the palm of one of his big bear paws. She’s too tiny to know it yet but she has all the men in her life wrapped around her finger.” I joked about it but it was true.

Remy Josephine Archer was a fuzzy, blond-haired, perfect miniature replica of her mom. Her eyes were still infant dark, but at the center there was no mistaking the crisp, clear Archer blue. She was going to have Rule’s eyes, Remy’s eyes. She was going to do her namesake proud, and Cora’s dad was already so in love with his granddaughter, he was talking about moving from Brooklyn to Denver. Little R.J. was the first baby for any of our patchworked family and there was no doubt she was going to be horrendously overprotected and ridiculously loved. She deserved nothing less.

“How are you guys doing at the shop without Cora?”

Phil started coughing, and I looked up at him under my brows. He sounded so awful, it made my heart squeeze so hard it stalled for a beat.

“It could be better. I can’t take as many clients, there was so much she handled. The first half of my day is messing with new clients, doing shit on the Internet, and paying bills. It sucks. The construction at the new shop started, so when I’m not trying to handle business at the Marked, I’m down there. Rule and Rowdy found a couple good artists we’re going to bring in to pick up the slack and see if they’ll work out at the new place, but for someone to run the desk and sit up front.” I just shook my head.

He coughed again and it made his entire thin frame shake and quake. “You aren’t going to find another Cora. She’s one of a kind, and once she’s ready, she’ll be back. I want you to call this girl I met the last time I was in Vegas. I was doing a convention there and she was one of the pinup models there for the guys to take pictures with.”

I snorted out a laugh. “I need a business major not a model.”

“You need someone who can handle all the bad attitude you guys throw around and that fits in with the rest of the shop. Someone with heart and a certain badassness. She was smart, she was beautiful. I took her info for a reason. Call her and see if she would be interested in coming out for an interview.”

I just wanted to make him happy, so I agreed. “If you say so.”

“I do. I might be sick, but I still know what makes that shop run. Plus I think she might be more inclined to come help you guys out and make the shop a success than anyone else you’re going to just happen upon.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because the past ties us all together, Nash. None of us would be where we are now without the things that happened to us back then. Her name is Salem Cruz. Tell her I gave you her info and maybe mention she should look up the shop’s website so she can check out the artists’ page.”

He was being cryptic and evasive, but that was pretty typical Phil-speak, so I didn’t question it. Besides, he changed the subject.

“How’s your pretty nurse?”

That was a good question. I didn’t have the first clue how she was. Ever since she spent the night at the hospital with me while we all waited on Cora and the baby, she had been slightly evasive. We were still spending time together, still spent the night together as often as either of us could swing it with our busy schedules, but there was something there now, some kind of distance, some kind of shield she had up, and even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself because I was in deep now, it felt like she was drifting away from me.

I wanted to ask her, wanted to make her admit we were into each other, that this thing between us was serious, and after almost three months she had to see that I was committed to being with her and no one else. But instead of being closer, she seemed to want more space between us. She hadn’t even let me do anything for her on Valentine’s Day. It was a difficult situation, and while I had no problem pushing her into bed, making her see and feel how perfect I thought she was, out of bed I was seriously worried that if I tried to make her put a label on, tried to force her to admit she cared about me beyond what I could make her feel in the dark, she would leave.

I got that she wanted to be careful, that she wasn’t fully convinced she could trust me … trust any guy, really. I couldn’t blame her. She had told me about her dad and his girlfriend and about some guy she had been involved with while she was in college, and how both cases of infidelity had left lasting marks on her already distrustful soul. I wanted to shake some sense into her. I had worked so hard to get close to her, there was no way I was going to screw it up by sticking my dick in the first willing female that came along, but I just couldn’t seem to get her to believe that.

She sort of glossed over the situation with the guy in college, but when she talked about her father, about the way her family had been so close, about the way her mom had gone off the deep end in the wake of his betrayal, I could hear in her voice how hard that had been for her. His unfaithfulness had cut not just her mother but all of the women in the Ford household deeply enough to leave lasting scars. She talked a good game about tolerating him and the choices he made, about turning the other cheek to keep the peace and to keep him in her life, but the resentment was there underneath every word she spoke. I couldn’t say that I faulted her for that, because even from the outside looking in, I could see her dad had done a shitty thing and left the family in the lurch. I just didn’t know how Saint was ever going to get to a place where she could let it all go, put her faith in the fact that I wasn’t like that … if she didn’t come to terms with the fact that people could be fallible, even people we had looked up to for our entire lives. The resentment she held on to was justified, but if she couldn’t figure out what to do with it, I didn’t know what that meant for us going forward.

Her father had disappointed her, solidified that foundation of mistrust I had broken ground on years ago, and I wasn’t sure how to make her see that I would do anything within my power to keep from letting her down like that again. I was not her dad, nor would I ever want to be the kind of man that threw his loving family over for a quick piece.

“She’s difficult.”

He laughed, an actual laugh, and it made me smile down at the floor. I felt him reach out and he put one of his thin hands on the crown of my bent head. I closed my eyes and felt my breath shudder in my chest.

“That’s the catchphrase of your life at the moment, Nash. ‘Difficult.’ You are a strong man, a good man, and you can handle anything life throws at you, no matter how difficult it may be. I want you to know, this man—the man you are now—he is a man you can be proud of. You are the greatest thing I ever created. Don’t doubt it.”

Well, shit, if that didn’t just make me want to bawl all over the place. I had to clench my hands hard into fists to keep all the emotion down.

“All I ever wanted was for my mom to tell me that. Now I know hearing it from you—the person that got me here—is a million times more valuable. Thanks, Phil.”

I was still having some difficulty thinking of him as my “dad.” His fingers patted my shaved head.

“I should have been braver. Shouldn’t have been so concerned that you would hate me for not telling you. I wanted your mother to be accountable, but once you came to stay with me permanently … I should have told you the truth.”

“Well, I wish I had known sooner, wish I could have time to appreciate one parent being proud of me. The choices she made make it really easy for me to come to terms with the fact she might have given birth to me, but she was never really my mother.”

“I was proud of you long before you had any idea you were my son, Nash. Your mom is a complicated woman, she always had a pretty clear-cut idea of the way her life should look. Neither you nor I fit in that vision.”

He moved his hand and I finally looked up at him. If I was swallowing it all down—the feelings, the time lost—the history was glassy and bright in his eyes.

“She should have just let you take me from the get-go. It would have saved everyone a lot of heartache.”

“We can’t go back in time, son, all we can do is move forward smarter and far more carefully.” He broke off in a coughing fit that didn’t look like it was going to end, and ended up needing his oxygen and some pain medicine. I helped him with both and realized I was going to have to cut the visit short.

I got him settled and tried not to worry that every single time I saw him it felt like it was going to be the last time.

“Call Salem. She’s just what you guys need, and I think you guys will love her.”

“Why do I feel like there is more to that story than you’re telling me?”

He gave me a weak grin and his eyes drifted shut. “You know me; I always like to offer a helping hand when I can: you, Rule, Jet, Rowdy, Cora. I made my own little family out of lost souls. I’m hoping as time goes on, you guys will extend the tradition. I taught you well in everything I thought you needed to learn to have a good life, son.”

He really had. Every life lesson he felt I needed to know, he had used his own unique way to teach me. I got in the Charger and cranked on the radio so I could listen to the music loud. Flatfoot 56 blasted through the speakers and I thought maybe if I drowned out all my other senses, I couldn’t feel the pain that seeing Phil disappear in front of my very eyes caused. I sent Saint a text because really she was the only thing that was going to make me feel better.

Sure, I could go get drunk with Asa at the Bar, I could call Rome and go throw weights around at the gym, Rule would drop everything and come by and listen to me gripe, Rowdy would pull himself away from whoever he was into for the night and come entertain me, and Jet … well, Jet was never in town anymore, but I knew I could call him and bitch. I had friends, people that loved me, were suffering the loss right alongside me, and yet she was the only one that dulled the burn, the ripping feeling that was left after that kind of visit.

Gonna order pizza. Wanna come over after work?

Her: Won’t be off until late.

Doesn’t matter … you could actually stay the night this time.

That was a low blow and was wussy and passive-aggressive. But I felt like crap, so I tried to man up a little more with my next message.

I had a rough visit with Phil. He is barely hanging on, it looks like. I would like to see you, and I would like for you to stay with me.

There wasn’t a response back for a while, so I had to start the car and head toward home. My insides were all twisted up and there was a sour taste running all along my tongue. I wanted to hit something or let something hit me.

I was pulling up in front of the Victorian when she finally sent me a message back. It galled. I had never waited around to hear from a chick before, especially a chick that I didn’t really know was into me to the same level that I was into her. I didn’t do self-doubt anymore and I hated that she was churning it up in me.

Her: Sorry a guy shot with a nail gun walked in. If you don’t mind me showing up a little later I’ll be there. Go ahead and eat without me.

What about staying with me?

I had to push my luck. I felt too open, was bleeding everything I was feeling all over the place with no way to stop the flow.

Her: Can we talk about that later? I just got two more patients.

Go to work. I’ll see you later.

I sighed feeling wholly torn up and unsatisfied when she sent: I’m so sorry about Phil. That isn’t fair and I’m sorry you’re hurting.

That was the thing about her, no matter how far away she seemed, there was just something there, some tie that made me believe that eventually she would come around and realize that we could be something amazing and special together.

I got out of the car and called the pizza place that knew me on a first-name basis. I ordered dinner and was putting my phone in my back pocket when a female voice swearing and a loud thumping caught my attention.

My neighbor was standing outside of her closed apartment door kicking it solidly with the toe of a high heel that was pinker than pink. She was using language that made me grin, and scowled at me when I asked her if I could help her with anything. She shoved her dark red hair over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips. Today she looked like she had come from some kind of fashion show, minus the disgruntled expression on her face.

“I always lock the door behind me. Any door, every door, which is normally a good thing, but not when my keys are on the other side. I left my cell in the car, and I was only two steps into the hallway when I realized I didn’t grab my freaking keys.” She groaned dramatically and threw her hands up. “So my phone is stuck in my car and my keys are stuck in my apartment and I am an idiot.”

I lifted an eyebrow at her because she growled and shoved her hand through her hair.

“You can use my phone to call the landlord, though it might be faster to call a locksmith. I ordered a pizza; you can come over and hang out for a minute.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she frowned at me. “Isn’t that gonna make the girlfriend freak out?”

I had no clue. “I don’t know.”

“About the freak-out or the girlfriend?”

“Both. Do you want to use my phone or not?”

She sighed and followed me into my apartment. I handed her my phone and she used the Internet to find a locksmith that would be there within an hour. She threw herself on my sofa and stared at the ceiling.

“If I could get into my trunk, I have a lockpick set. I bet I could break in.”

I offered her a beer and took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“Why do you have that?”

She went on like she hadn’t even heard me. “And my partner … jeez when he hears about this, I’m never living it down. I locked us out of the squad car two weeks ago.”

What? “Royal?”

She turned to look at me and I could see she was aggravated. “Yeah?”

“What exactly do you do?”

She huffed out a breath and rolled the beer between her hands. “I’m a cop.”

Again, what? “Seriously?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief out of my tone.

“Yeah. I told you that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I did. No one does. I graduated from the academy last year, so I’m a newbie cop, but still a cop.”

I let my disbelieving gaze drop to her silly shoes and flashy outfit. “Really?” I couldn’t picture her with a badge and a gun to save my life.

“I’m still a girl, but yeah, I’m a patrol officer. That’s why my hours are so all over the place and why I think I got a good read on people.”

There was a knock on the door and I went to retrieve the pizza. I put it down in front of her on the coffee table and didn’t bother to find a plate. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress her or anything. She rolled her eyes and fetched a slice.

“Well, your instinct that you had about Saint was way off. You said she was into me, had a crush, but lately I feel like all she has me doing is chasing my own tail.”

Royal laughed a little and I thought really it meant something that I wasn’t the least bit attracted to her. I was so hung up on Saint that even though I knew my neighbor was inarguably beautiful and fun, she just wasn’t it for me.

“Nash, I’ve seen her. When she’s coming, when she’s going, she always has the same look on her face. She’s excited to see you, to be with you, but underneath that she is terrified. I don’t know the whole story, but if she’s making you chase your tail, believe me when I tell you there is no way she isn’t spinning herself in just as many circles trying to catch her own as well.”

God, I hoped so, because if I was the only one feeling dizzy and nauseous, it made this ride way less fun.

“We went to high school together, ran in pretty different circles. I bumped into her at the ER last year when a buddy got into a bar fight. She had a thing for me back then and apparently thought I was saying really terrible things about her and it left a mark on her. I was saying really terrible things because I was a hothead and was kind of a jerk, but they weren’t about her. Now she can’t seem to get over it, even though it feels like it was in another lifetime.”

She gave me a hard look and reached for another slice of pizza.

“A girl’s first love is a big deal. We never really get over it.”

“I don’t think it was love.”

She pointed the top of her beer bottle at me and squinted her dark eyes. “I think you’re wrong. If she’s holding on to it that tightly, still scared you’re going to turn on her, hurt her again even though you’ve obviously changed and clearly care about her, it was first love.”

I wanted to argue, but I had seen how powerful first love could be. Shaw had loved Rule since the first time she laid her eyes on him, and even though it had taken years for him to see it, she had never wavered in her devotion to him. Cora’s first love had broken her heart by being unfaithful and abandoning her, it had almost cost her the perfect love she was searching for when Rome came barreling into her life. First love was indeed powerful, and if I had really tarnished it for Saint, there stood a really good chance she might never let me in, would never trust me enough.

I was going to tell my pretty neighbor how much I thought that sucked when there was a light knock on the door. Thinking it was the locksmith, I got up and swung the door open. I felt my jaw go slack in surprise when I came face-to-face with the girl I couldn’t get off my mind. She looked like she had just come from work. Her hair was up in a bun on the top of her head and she still had her scrubs on. I was going to ask her how she had gotten off so early but her gaze was locked on Royal and her mouth was a tight, flat line. She didn’t even glance at me.

“Hey.”

Those storm-cloud-colored eyes flicked up to mine and a soft pink flooded into her face.

“Hey.”

“You got off work early.”

Her gaze shot back to Royal, who had gotten up and wandered over to the door.

“I did. One of the other girls came in early by chance, and I was worried about how you were doing after your visit.” There was a definite thread of accusation in her tone.

I frowned down at her, hurt she thought I would just substitute time spent with her with anyone that would do. She was the only one who made me feel better after visiting with Phil. I wished I could make her believe that. Royal peeked around both of us as the front security door swung open and a guy in work clothes carrying a toolbox poked his head in.

“Someone locked out?”

Saint shifted nervously in front of me as Royal slid past both of us. She winked at me and patted Saint on the shoulder as she walked toward her own door.

“Thanks for the rescue, Nash. He’s a good one, girlie, don’t let him get away.”

I took a step back and watched, literally watched, while Saint struggled with whether she was going to follow me inside or not. It was all over her pale face, and the indecision made me feel slightly sick. I decided if she didn’t come in, then this was it. I couldn’t do it anymore. I liked her—hell, way more than liked her—but this unknown, this chase, was just one more thing in my life that was heaping with complications. As much as I wanted this to work, just plain wanted her, at some point she was going to have to give me something solid to hold on to.

She reached up and started to pull out the tie holding all her copper hair up. She looked away from me and scooted by so that our chests barely brushed together. I closed the door and followed her over to where she sat on the arm of the couch.

“Thanks for coming over.”

She nodded a little by dipping her chin down.

“It has to be getting harder. Phil’s prognosis wasn’t very good when he left the hospital.”

I stopped by her side and reached out to put a finger under her chin. I forced her to look up at me, to meet my gaze. There were darker slate shadows behind the pearly gray as she looked up at me.

“I was just helping a neighbor out, you know that, right?”

She let her lids droop down so that I couldn’t really see what was going on in that complex mind of hers.

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have that kind of claim on each other.”

There it was. I wanted more and she didn’t want anything. I felt my stomach drop and I stepped away from her. She followed the movement and frowned at me.

“That’s too bad, Saint. I wanted that kind of claim. I don’t know what this”—I motioned between us with a hand—“is all about, but it means something to me, and if you can’t say the same, then I don’t want to just be the dude you hook up with because I can get you off and no one else can. That’s not enough for me anymore, and frankly it makes me feel like shit.”

I walked to the front door, ready to pull it open and send her on her way for good. I was mad and upset and not bothering to hide it. I wasn’t in any kind of head space to separate how much of it had to do with her and how much of it had to do with what I was feeling because of Phil.

“I wanted to spend the night with you tonight because the only person that ever made me feel like I was worth anything is dying and I have to watch it and do nothing about it. Nothing makes that better. Nothing fixes it, but when I’m with you …”—I rubbed a hand over my face and used it to grab the back of my neck—“it hurts just a fraction less. You make me want to focus on the good, on the memories I have that make me happy, but this clearly doesn’t mean the same thing to you. You can’t even be bothered to stay the entire night with me, Saint. I get it, you aren’t into this the way I am, so you can go. Thanks for coming by.”

I had my hand on the knob and a sweltering heat was pulsing under my skin. I hated to see her go, but for my sanity and peace of mind, it was the right call. I was getting ready to yank the door open when she was suddenly between me and the wood. She put her hands on the center of my chest and splayed her fingers wide open. My heart sped up, started thumping harder, like it was trying to burst out of my chest and put itself in her hands.

“Nash.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I can’t do it anymore, Saint. I don’t even know what it is.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t mean to push you away, to dismiss whatever it is we have. I just don’t know how to do this with you. I don’t want to be the jealous, fearful girl, but I am. I saw Royal and wanted to turn right around and never come back.”

Her hands moved up my chest and cupped each side of my face.

“It makes me feel better to think it wouldn’t matter if you were doing something questionable with her because we don’t mean anything to each other. It can’t hurt if we don’t have any kind of real feelings for each other.”

Her logic was ridiculous. Of course it could still hurt, because even if she convinced herself she didn’t have any feelings for me, her reactions still tore me up because I sure as shit had feelings for her.

“All I can see is you. Why can’t you understand that? No one shines as bright as you in the sky I’m looking at. To me there is no sun, no moon, and no stars in the sky, just endless miles of storm clouds and pretty, pretty gray.”

She moved her hands up higher and used her fingers to trace over the flames above my ears. She was trying to soothe me, trying to make the frayed edges come back together and put sutures in the wounds she had unwittingly inflicted.

“I want to believe that so badly, Nash. I can’t explain it to you, but part of me wants so much to see me the way you do, but a bigger, louder part refuses to believe it’s possible.”

I put my hands around her delicate wrists. My fingers overlapped because her wrists were so fragile, and I felt her pulse hammering under her pale skin.

“What do you want, Saint? What do you really want?”

She moved her hands off of my head and let them rest on my shoulders. Her eyes were swirling gray as she fought for control of the emotion whipping in the depths.

“I want your dad to be okay and for you not to have to watch him suffer. I want to be able to enjoy the time we spend together like a normal person and not constantly be waiting for the other shoe to drop. I want to get promoted at work. I want my mom to get over my dad and stop hurting. Mostly I want to make sure that this thing we’re doing doesn’t leave either one of us sad and full of regret.”

I couldn’t fault her honesty, but I also couldn’t give her any kind of guarantee or affirmation that any of those things she wanted were possible. In fact I knew some of them weren’t.

“What do you want from me?” I sounded a little like I was being strangled. I was already stripped to the live nerve center of my emotional threshold for the day. Doing this with her was the last thing I needed or wanted.

She sighed and finally all the shadows and fog in her eyes cleared and left behind the crystalline gray.

“I want you, Nash. I always want you; this is just the only way I know how to do it and feel comfortable.”

“Why are you so certain I’m going to hurt you? That I’m going to fuck up and disappoint you?”

She gave me a lopsided smile and she worked her hands under the collar of my shirt so she could stroke the base of my neck.

“Because it’s bound to happen, but I really want to enjoy what we have before then.”

How did I fight against that? How did I convince her when she seemed so certain that if she let go and trusted the feelings building between us instead of worrying about what might happen or what had happened, we could make the here and now something that lasted forever?

I wanted to keep arguing, to keep pushing her to see that this was more than a fling, more than two people who were sexually compatible. I wanted her to feel, to know I wouldn’t have been able to make it through everything going on with Phil and the shop without her kindness, her gentleness and care. However, she had her hands under my clothes and her mouth settled over mine, and even though I knew she was trying to distract me from the conversation, I decided not to stop her.

If this was the only way she was going to let me connect to her, I would just have to make do with it for now. I was a guy after all … and there were far worse things in life than having a gorgeous girl want you for sex. Plus, she wanted me, had proven that time and time again. I guess I would just have to ultimately decide if what she wanted me for was going to be enough when I felt like I needed to give her everything else I had.