Rome

by Jay Crownover

  The nurse put a hand on his cheek and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her slim wrist. She said something to him and he nodded solemnly. She pulled her hand away and walked the opposite direction down the hallway. I inclined my head in the direction she went and tapped Joe on the elbow.

  “You might want to talk to her. Let your little girl handle Nash. She’s good at dealing with her boys.”

  He gave a sharp nod and took off after the nurse. Cora pulled free of my hold and went and wrapped herself around Nash. His big body gave a shudder and he buried his face in the curve of her neck. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but when he looked up, those lapis eyes locked on to mine.

  “Cancer. Fucking lung cancer. They’re calling in an oncologist right now, but it’s bad.”

  I sucked in a breath and saw that Cora was shaking, too. That wasn’t good news.

  “I’m so sorry, man.”

  He blinked like he was in a daze and pulled away from my girl. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his bald scalp and started to pace back and forth like some kind of wild animal in a cage. I pulled Cora back into my arms and ran my hands up and down her back when I felt her tears slide against my neck where she shoved her face.

  “I knew something was wrong. For months and months he’s been acting weird, not returning calls. He was all gung ho to get a new shop opened, and then that just fell off the map. I let it go and let it go. Hell, I thought he had a new girlfriend he didn’t want anyone to know about, but no, it’s motherfucking cancer. Jesus Christ, smoking. All from goddamn smoking.”

  “Nash, take a breath. You don’t know how bad it is or if it’s treatable yet. Don’t jump the gun.”

  He swore some more and kept moving rapidly back and forth in front of us. His nervous energy was like an electrical charge making the hairs on my arms stand up. I wanted to tell him everything would be fine, that it would all work out, but before I got the chance to say anything, a petite woman with jet-black hair, dressed like she had just left high tea, followed by a man who clearly wore a suit every day and bossed peons around for a living, burst into the small waiting room. I didn’t know who they were, but Cora went stiff in my arms and Nash stopped pacing. The look on his face would have been enough to frighten a herd of stampeding elephants, but not this lady. She shrieked, “Nashville. Oh, honey, the hospital just called us. Are you okay?”

  She hugged him hard, and I didn’t miss that he didn’t return the gesture. He looked at me and then back at the woman, then purposely took a step away from her. I peeked at Cora, who mouthed “his mom,” and turned my attention back to the family drama that made the Archers look like the Brady Bunch.

  “What are you doing here, Mom? Why would the hospital call you?”

  The woman fiddled with the strap on her purse. I was having a hard time seeing any of Nash in her. She was small and pale of complexion; he might have inherited his dark hair from her, but that was all I could tell.

  “I’m Phil’s next of kin on all his paperwork. The hospital had to call me. I’m also his power of attorney.”

  Nash glared. “Why you? Why would he have you on all that stuff, Mom?”

  The woman took a nervous step away from her obviously emotional and enraged son. “He was going to turn it all over to you once the final tests came back.”

  You could’ve heard a pin drop. I felt Cora gasp and let go of her because I was actually worried I was going to have to physically restrain my brother’s best friend.

  “You knew? You knew how sick he was?” Nash’s voice blasted across the hospital walls like a gunshot. The man that had followed his mom in—her husband, I assumed—went to take a step toward Nash, but I reached out a hand and shook my head.

  “Wouldn’t do that, friend.”

  He sneered at me and looked at my hand like it was covered in shit.

  “And who are you?”

  I lifted my eyebrow.

  “I’m nobody, but if you think you’re going to get in the middle of that, I’m the guy that’ll be happy to stop you.”

  His eyes slid over the top of my head, across my shoulders, and looked at where my pixie was shooting him the death glare from my side, where she was safely tucked away. Apparently he saw that I meant business because he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like a sulking child.

  “Nash.” The woman was pleading but he wasn’t having any of it.

  “How long, Mom? How long has he been sick? How bad is it?”

  She looked away and bit her lower lip. Nash put his hands on her slight shoulders and gave her a little shake. I thought for a second the hospital security might show up or the rest of the crew, but so far it was just us and Nash’s life unfolding in front of him.

  “He got sick at the end of last year. They had to remove part of his lung. He didn’t want anyone to know. The doctors thought it was contained but it metastasized and spread. He’s in stage three. It’s possibly moved to his lymph nodes. He was waiting on the test results. He didn’t want you to worry, Nash.”

  Nash swore long and loud, and Cora pulled away from me to go and soothe him.

  “Worry! You don’t think a heads-up would’ve been nice before I stumbled across what I thought was his corpse? Jesus Christ, Mom!”

  “You need to calm down.”

  “The last thing I need to do is calm down. Why would he tell you all this and not me? I’m his family. Hell, I’m more his son than his nephew.”

  I saw the woman flinch and the suit made a strangled noise in his throat. Cora narrowed her eyes at the woman, and at the exact same time as Rule and Shaw came racing into our little party from hell, the pretty nurse came back around the corner followed by Cora’s dad.

  “Mom?” Nash’s voice was downright scary, and for being a typically mellow guy, he looked like he could take the hospital apart brick by brick if he wanted to right now. Rule took a step toward his buddy but I shook my head. The nurse walked up to Nash’s other side and put a hand on his shoulder. His gaze snapped to her and something in the lilac depths shifted fractionally.

  “He’s awake and asking for you.”

  “For me?”

  She tilted her fiery head to one side and blinked up at him.

  “He asked for his son. That has to be you, right? I mean you guys look identical.”

  Nash’s mom gasped and looked like she was going to faint.

  “Holy shit.” Rule’s outburst got him an elbow in the gut from Shaw and a dirty look from the suit.

  “Nash.” Cora’s tone was stern and no-nonsense. “Now isn’t the time. We can work out all the details later. They don’t matter. You have to appreciate that he’s still here and focus on the now.” Her bright eyes danced over to me and then slid back to him. “Plus you can’t hit her and get away with it. I can.”

  Saint—I still thought the nurse’s name suited her perfectly—hooked her arm through his and started to guide him away from the mess that particular bomb had left in the waiting room.

  “I got you, Nash.” Her tone was kind, and instead of being brisk and businesslike, there was something else lurking in those dove-gray eyes.

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  They went around the nurses’ station, and we all collectively turned and stared at Nash’s mom. I saw Cora cross her arms over her chest and stamp her foot. If this prissy lady thought this was over, she had another thing coming.

  “Phil is Nash’s father, the father that supposedly took off when he was a baby?”

  The woman looked at her husband and then around at all of us. Rule growled something under his breath and stalked toward her until he was right in her face. I saw her cower but I wasn’t going to intervene.

  “How could you let him believe that lie? It tore him up, it made him feel lost. He loved Phil like a father all this time; hell, we all did, and neither of you could bother to share! Fuck you and fuck that piece of shit you picked over your son. You better hope to God Phil has a fighting chance to beat this
, Ruby, or I will make sure your dirty laundry is spread all across the Front Range.”

  The small woman bristled in that way only someone who thought they were inherently better than you could do.

  “I don’t owe you an explanation, Rule. I don’t owe any of you anything.” Her husband shoved past me and went to stand by her side. They both glared at us like we had something to do with this life-changing secret coming to light.

  Cora came back over to me and curled back into my side.

  “You’re wrong. Nash is ours, not yours. We love him, we take care of him, and we’re going to be the ones that help him through this. You didn’t want him, we do. I think you need to go. You are not wanted, or needed, here.”

  The couple bristled and I could see they were going to put up a fight, when Cora’s father stepped around our motley crew and got between us and them.

  “I know you don’t know me, but my name is Joe Lewis and Phil and I go way back.” They might not have known the sailor but they both had clearly heard of him. The fight visibly drained out of them. “I know all about you, Ruby, and you, too, Grant. I know your story, I know about the boy, and trust me, if you want any chance at making this right with your child, you will turn around and leave his family to take care of him. Am I making myself clear?”

  Apparently he was, because with one last haughty look they turned and walked out of the waiting room without a backward glance.

  Shaw let out a little whistle and fake-whispered, “Your dad is a serious badass.”

  I snickered a little and dropped a kiss on top of Cora’s wild hair. “You come by it naturally.”

  “So what now?” Shaw propped herself in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and took out her phone.

  “If Phil pulls through, they can work it out. If he doesn’t, I don’t know.” Rule’s voice sounded strained.

  Cora kissed me on the cheek and wandered over to sit next to her friend. My brother arched one of his dark eyebrows and nudged me with his shoulder.

  “So what was up with the hottie nurse? They know each other or something?”

  “You guys went to school with her.”

  “Ah … no, I didn’t. If I went to school with a chick that looked like that, I would’ve remembered … don’t tell Shaw I just said that.”

  I snorted because that was typical Rule. “She’s Saint.”

  He frowned in confusion. “She’s a saint?”

  “No, her name is Saint, but she might be a saint as well.”

  I sure hoped she was because it looked like Nash was going to need all the help he could get dealing with this particular mess. Sure, he had all of us in his corner and at his back, but there was no denying that a saint might come in handy.

  Rome’s Playlist

  Deer Tick: “Twenty Miles”

  (Do yourself a favor and listen to this song before you start reading the story … This is totally Rome’s song for Cora … it’s perfect!)

  The Gaslight Anthem: “Boxer”

  (This song doesn’t fit with Rome’s classic-rock theme, but when I was writing, for some reason every time I got stuck, or was wondering about what direction the big guy would go, this song made it make sense.)

  Creedence Clearwater Revival: “Fortunate Son”

  The Rolling Stones: “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”

  AC/DC: “You Shook Me All Night Long”

  The Weeks: “Sailor Song”

  The Clash: “Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

  The Eagles: “Take It Easy”

  Neil Young: “Rockin’ in the Free World”

  The Kinks: “You Really Got Me”

  Pink Floyd: “Comfortably Numb”

  Tom Petty: “Free Fallin’”

  Cora’s Playlist

  Nikki Lane: “Walk of Shame”

  The Detroit Cobras: “Can’t Do Without You”

  Devil Doll: “You Are the Best Thing and the Worst Thing”

  Sleater-Kinney: “You’re No Rock n’ Roll Fun”

  Le Tigre: “Nanny Nanny Boo Boo”

  Bikini Kill: “Rebel Girl”

  Spinnerette: “Ghetto Love”

  The Pretenders: “I’ll Stand by You”

  Naked Aggression: “Pros and Cons of Dying”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have a bunch of people who help me do what I do on a professional level. My agent, Stacey; my editor, Amanda; an entire team at HarperCollins that is dedicated to making sure whatever I create gets polished and put out to the reader in the best way possible. It’s been an interesting and often challenging process to learn how the publishing world works. I have a publicity team whom I work with to try to get my boys all the love and exposure they deserve. They are wonderful ladies, kind, easy to work with, fun, and a great source of information and support, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to be able to pass the ball occasionally … remember I am a complete spaz. Check them out if you are in the market for some promo, marketing, have questions, and even if you want to venture a toe in the big bad writing water: http://literatiauthorservices.com/

  At times I frankly want to run away from it all because it’s new and can be intimidating. But it’s also humbling and at times overwhelming to have so many different people believing that I have the talent to create something memorable and meaningful. I can never express how grateful I am for all the exciting experiences this journey has brought me and the fabulous people it has given me the opportunity to work with. I am very fortunate and I have to remind myself every day to take a minute and enjoy it because I am such a spaz, and I let all the good things that go with being thrust into a new experience pass me right by.

  My usual cast of characters who I couldn’t live without. My family, my bestie, my dear friend Melanie, who goes by many names and wears many hats but really is the kindest, most thoughtful person I have had the pleasure to meet. We don’t always agree, but I trust her to be honest, and she is an awesome sounding board for all the crazy characters and stories rolling around in my head. She is and probably always will be my book bestie … she just gets it. And she lets me borrow her husband and his awesome design skills.

  I have to thank my mom specifically for being such a trouper. She’s let me drag her all across the country this year as I get used to being in public and meeting readers. I hate to fly … HATE it. So she’s the best because she comes with me and that makes traveling less of a nightmare. She also tolerates me when my nerves get the best of me and I turn into a snappy, sarcastic monster. She’s just the best mom out there and it’s always nice to know after a long day working, meeting people, moving and shaking, that I always have someone to keep my head in the game and grab a drink at the hotel bar with. That’s right: I’m totally a grown-up, a professional with a busy and crazy life of my own, but I still want my mommy at the end of a long day!

  I couldn’t do what I do without my wonderful readers. I just think you’re all spectacular, and there isn’t a way to express my gratitude to you without sounding like a complete sissy. Really the only part of this new career I’ve taken on that I understand inside and out is the role of an avid reader. I love a good book, great characters, and moments in a story that you just can’t stop thinking about as much as the next book lover. Every time I start a book, or think about a story line, I run it through my reader brain and ask myself if it is a book I would read, is it a story that needs to be told? If the answer is yes, I tell it in the best way I possibly can. Those of you who have contacted me or left stunning reviews, it touches me every time and makes me feel like we are kindred spirits. I never thought I would be on the other side of the pages of a book. Have no doubt that all readers are invaluable to authors; we wouldn’t exist without you, so thank you. You rule!!!

  Last year at this time, I had no idea what a blog was. True story. Now I know that blogs and the bloggers behind them are a serious driving force behind the word-of-mouth success of a book. It seems pretty selfless to operate a blog just to share your love of rea
ding and books with the world, because you love reading and interacting with other readers. It’s where like minds can meet and collude, which I wish I had known about back when I wanted to talk about this book or that book and my friends looked at me like I was a nut. I cannot imagine investing my time and energy in something like that when I didn’t get paid for it! Anyway, I thank all the bloggers who had a hand in taking my boys from the small time to the big time, for pimping the series out, and for wanting to have anything to do with me, frankly. It’s been a delight working with and learning from you; those of you who had my back and supported me from the beginning know who you are and I hope my gratitude is evident. If it’s not, I heart your faces off and appreciate everything all of you have done for me.

  Lastly I’m shouting out to my pack. It doesn’t matter how long I’m on the road for, how long I’m sitting at the computer, if a walk gets missed or a ball doesn’t get thrown, they just love me endlessly. They make my day and my heart smile, and really they are my fuzzy, furry little family.

  If you wanna talk at me you can. I always welcome hearing from my readers:

  E-mail: Jaycrownover@gmail.com

  Web: www.Jaycrownover.com

  Twitter: @jaycrownover

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorJayCrownover

  Loved Rome? Want more from Jay Crownover? Then keep reading …

  Opposites don’t just attract … They catch fire and burn the city down

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