Nobody's Hero

by Melanie Harvey

  “I didn’t say,” Rick said, and it took her a second to realize he was coming back around to the beginning. “Because I was writing a song. And nobody’s gonna be feeling me on that. Most guys … ”

  His Adam’s apple jumped when he swallowed, and he looked back up to the Garden.

  Had he been heading here all along? Was the path through the canyons of skyscrapers, through the stories random? He’d seemed like he knew where he was going.

  Where they were going. This was the answer to her question. How successful would he have to be, how much would he have to make to ever buy it back?

  Rick leaned forward now, his elbows on his knees. She stared at his hands, held together, and realized that the movement of his right thumb and forefinger wasn’t random. His hand switched to his left ring finger, moved down the line, ending at the thumb. She watched it twice more, spelling it out … never … until she couldn’t watch anymore. She slipped her arm under his right elbow, slid her hand into his, and separated his fingers with her own.

  “It wasn’t fair to ask you to choose.”

  She was startled by the grip on her hand.

  “Maybe not.” His gaze never left the circle across the street. “But when you got a choice, you really ought to make the right goddamn one.”

  Carolyn felt the tears sting her throat again, and she was helpless to find words that could make a difference. She felt the grip of his hands, both around hers, her shoulder pressed to his, as she followed his gaze to the arch of the arena against the blue of the sky.

  “But you’re still with her.”

  Rick turned quickly. “No. I ain’t.”

  “For how long?”

  “Forever.”

  Deluged had been released five months ago, with only one mention of her. Forever hadn’t begun then.

  “Nobody believes that,” Rick said.

  “Because you keep going back.” She didn’t like saying it any more than he appeared to like hearing it. She liked the upshot even less. “Why?”

  His grip tightened on her hand, drawing her closer to him.

  Carolyn closed her eyes. She’d forgotten she was insane. Please explain this so it makes sense. Make me believe it’s really over.

  “She told everybody she miscarried. What I wanted. And the deal was, don’t bring it up. She brought it up.”

  The words were a hand around her heart, so tight she wasn’t sure how it continued beating. Maybe he believed that, but she couldn’t believe Mary saying out loud what he’d always known would keep him from going back. It didn’t explain why.

  Rick was immobile, still looking across the street at the proof that he’d made the wrong choice.

  The proof. “Is that it? You go back to prove you would have done both?”

  He turned toward her, his eyes puzzled, like he’d never even considered that.

  “But you can never prove it.” She heard the break in her own voice, the same moment his eyes cut away. “Do you believe it? That you would have really stayed?”

  He looked back, but he didn’t answer.

  “It’s all you’ll ever have, you know. Knowing yourself, that if you’d had the chance … ”

  She thought she saw something, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Disappointment?

  No. Resignation.

  “I believe it. I know you would have done both,” Carolyn said, surprised at her conviction.

  She still didn’t know what caused that strange searching look he gave her, like he wasn’t sure what she meant by words that sounded so clear to her ears.

  It never lasted long. Rick blew out a snort. “I’m still sitting outside the fucking Garden, ain’t I?”

  It wasn’t bitter, it was just a joke. She bumped her shoulder against his, and her breath caught at the smile that transformed his face so completely. All the milk bottles, right off the platform.

  She swallowed and stood up, pulling Rick with her. “When you oughta be working. Thought you had a battle tonight.”

  His eyes widened. “You think I gotta work for that?”

  She took a step down, laughing at the ego. “Maybe you really are an MC.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. She thought he looked impressed. Then his eyes shifted. Back across the street.

  Don’t do this to yourself, Rick. She only hesitated for a second. “Or maybe you’re just some cracker — ”

  “Oh!”

  Carolyn ducked when he made a grab for her. She tried to stretch the distance to another step down, but the treads were too wide, she couldn’t reach.

  Because he still had hold of her hand.

  “You really wanna start something with me?”

  “No!” She tried moving sideways, but he held tight, taking the step down himself. “Please. No.”

  He trapped her in his arms. “’Cause you been on my mind for a couple-a days — so I think I could find something to say.”

  She wriggled her hand free and clamped it over his mouth. “Don’t. I can’t take it. Whatever you’ve got, save it for someone who can.”

  His eyes lit with amusement. She waited until she thought she saw agreement that he would let it go. Rick kept his end of the deal with silence.

  She should have taken her chances with the words. The steps rumbled under her feet, vibrated through her body as his eyes locked on hers. She was too close. She never should have let herself get so close.

  “You goin’ kiss me now, Carolyn?”

  I can’t. I’ll never want to stop. She couldn’t speak; it felt like a nightmare, mouth open but unable to scream, no matter how life threatening the danger was. She felt Rick’s arms loosen around her waist, felt the air come back into her lungs as he moved away.

  He shrugged. “Am I really asking for a lot here?”

  She found her voice again. “Hell, yeah.”

  He reached for her again, but she wasn’t attached anymore. She cleared the next step easily, before the inside pitch knocked her on her ass.

  “You all worried about my ego, but I can’t remember the last time — ”

  “If you can’t remember, then you’ll probably survive.”

  Rick’s grin turned into a laugh.

  “Now that’s funny,” she said. “Because it’s true.”

  He straightened up. “Well, I ain’t begging you.”

  Carolyn put another step between them and turned to answer over her shoulder. “I’m glad. It’s not a good look for … ”

  His eyes traced the curve of the arena as his hands slipped into his pockets. He didn’t notice her moving back, not even when she was only one step below him.

  She reached for his arm. “Hey.”

  He looked at her, but his gaze was steady. She expected him to blow it off, offer up some more trivial information. Make a joke, or at least give her a straight line. He didn’t.

  So she didn’t, either; she told him the truth. “I want my seat on the ice.”

  Because it didn’t matter where they came from, or how they were motivated, or twisted into trying to prove things that would never be proved. Dreams were still dreams and all dreams were unrealistic. But that wasn’t the same as impossible.

  Carolyn saw the smile light his eyes before he twisted it into a wry grin.

  “Come on.” She hooked her hand around his elbow. “We’ll catch the subway back.”

  “Shit.”

  When she pulled on his arm, his hand came out of his pocket and slid into hers as he took the step down. His easy grip clashed with the wide-eyed look he gave her. “I’m starting to wonder if you gonna let me out of this city alive.”

  He went on as they reached the sidewalk, she was boring him to death with baseball, risking his life with trains under million-ton buildings. Changing the subject so fast he couldn’t keep up, never mind how she was fighting him. He had quite a list going about how she was trying to do him in.

  It was only fair. Carolyn traced the blue line on the map at the bottom of the stairs to figure out if they needed the C or
the E train. She wasn’t sure how she’d escape Manhattan either.

  26: Face Off

  Her sister might as well have been sitting beside Peter all through dinner, Carolyn had heard her voice so often the last three hours. What is wrong with you?

  Worse, she was still trying to explain.

  I know. I recognize the disturbing reality that something in me — me! — wants to be caught up in the raw emotion where everything matters and nothing is irrelevant. Where something more desperate is at stake than whether this portfolio is growing and this address is better and this restaurant is where everyone knows the best chef is now creating these culinary masterpieces.

  A salmon masterpiece that turned in Carolyn’s stomach as every second moved the hands of her watch closer to eleven. Rick had called five times in the last ten minutes. She’d switched the phone to vibrate after the second time and told Peter it was Eve.

  “I had a lovely evening, Carolyn.”

  She forced a smile. “I did too.”

  Peter reached across the seat of the taxi and squeezed her hand. The cab stopped at the Sherry Netherland, and he paid the driver before alighting from the back seat with her. If all she had to handle was a polite goodnight kiss, she’d survive.

  She glanced at her watch. Only ten-thirty.

  “Somewhere you have to be?”

  She shrugged and Peter smiled, gesturing for her to enter the interior revolving door ahead of him.

  Carolyn walked into the lobby and right into her worst nightmare.

  She barely registered Rick and Terrance chatting with the elevator operator and the night clerk before Rick spun around, his easy grin shifting from relief, to frustration, to anger. Carolyn watched him try to control it as he strode toward her. Something was terribly wrong and the feeling reverberated right through her.

  “You’re late.”

  “No, it’s only ten-thirty, I’m … ” Late. She’d heard Terrance say eleven, Rick said eleven, but that was when it started.

  “You didn’t answer your phone.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She meant it with all her heart, and Rick exhaled slowly.

  “Carolyn?”

  Rick’s gaze flew past her and all the emotion drained from his face. Carolyn turned to see Peter closing the distance from the door. He must have stayed back and watched.

  “Peter … ”

  Rick’s blank face turned on a dime. Into attitude.

  “Peter?” Eyebrows up, body into a slouch. Rick jerked his chin up once. “Yo, thanks for the baseball game. Sorry you couldn’t make it.”

  Carolyn felt her face grow hot. Her glare only seemed to amuse Rick before she quickly turned to Peter. His eyes were flickering around the lobby. “What’s going on, Carolyn?”

  She prayed Rick would keep his mouth shut. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. I have plans.”

  “With him?”

  “Yeah, with him,” Rick said. “So nice to know you, but your clock’s run out.” Carolyn spun around and his eyes changed to a smile. “Are you ready?”

  “I have to change,” she said firmly. “I’m overdressed.”

  She didn’t ask if he wanted to wait longer or keep up the bullshit, because she saw the admiration on his face. She wished it didn’t make her so happy to impress him.

  His gaze slid down her black dress. “I keep offering to fix that.”

  But she couldn’t win a battle of words with a wordsmith.

  Then he looked over her shoulder. “I hate to bring it up, Peter. But I did see her first.”

  Peter didn’t respond, so Carolyn clamped her teeth together, thanking God for some level of maturity around her — including the night clerk, the elevator operator, and Terrance still chatting over the desk. Somehow she knew Terrance hadn’t missed anything, though the others were oblivious. Probably not enough experience with pissing matches in this lobby.

  She passed Rick a saccharine smile and turned back to Peter. “I should have told you, but I’ll have to explain later — ”

  “Don’t wait up,” Rick said.

  Carolyn took Peter’s elbow and steered him toward the door. He didn’t even glance back. She didn’t know which was stronger, her anger or her embarrassment. If she hadn’t seen the desperation on Rick’s face when she walked in, she’d sure as hell be pushing him to the door. That’s what saved your sorry ass. One split second of honesty.

  “I really should have mentioned it,” Carolyn said.

  Peter nodded. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. He’s harmless.” A lie of the highest magnitude, but she was almost sure Peter was concerned for her physical safety. She glanced over her shoulder, where Rick had rejoined Terrance. “He’s just … ”

  “A self-important, arrogant, got-something-to-prove MC. I know the type.”

  Carolyn almost retorted, but it was a walk, and she took her base. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Peter glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I like this, Carolyn. But I respect you enough to let you make your own decisions.”

  She could only nod, as he walked out the door without saying goodbye.

  Rick’s voice was in her ear the instant Peter was gone. “About fucking time. Let’s go.”

  Carolyn whirled. “You!”

  His eyes widened. “Me?”

  Carolyn’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, Terrance’s arm was around her shoulders, his deep voice quiet in her ear. “We don’t want to make a scene, now, do we?”

  The next thing she knew, she was in the compartment of the revolving door and out on the street. She turned to find Terrance right behind her. “He started this!”

  “Yeah, they always blame the white guy.” He opened the door of a Lincoln waiting at the curb. She caught a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he gestured to the back seat. “We are running late.”

  Carolyn gritted her teeth. Maybe it was Terrance’s empathy. Maybe it was the look on Rick’s face when he first saw her, still etched in her mind. Maybe she was just a fool.

  Terrance nodded, she slid into the car, and the door closed behind her.

  “Something’s wrong with that guy,” Rick said, and she jumped at his voice, already inside.

  The car shifted as Terrance settled into the front passenger seat. He turned the music on, loud.

  “You mean because he didn’t assault you in the lobby?”

  Rick slouched against his door. “Ah, yeah. That’s what I meant.”

  “My God!” Her face grew hot, and she didn’t have to worry about making a scene now, the only witnesses were one driver and one friend who’d faded the stereo up front to drown out the volume he clearly anticipated from the backseat. “You provoke him and then say there’s something wrong with him when he refuses to take the bait?”

  The music grew louder.

  “I didn’t do it on pur — ”

  “Oh, bullshit. Your time’s up? I saw her first? You disrespect him, you treat me like a piece of meat?”

  “See? If he did that, I’d a said something.”

  She snorted. “He did. He said he knows your type.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s my type, Carolyn?”

  Self-important. Arrogant. Got something to prove. Only the last one was true. She felt the accusation in Rick’s voice, and her throat closed up.

  Rick leaned toward her, his green eyes like fire. “You think you could do me one favor, and not fight with me about dumb-ass bullshit — for one fucking night?”

  * * *

  Rick clamped his jaw down, but he was always too late. Carolyn shrank away, her hand over her mouth, and she wasn’t holding in a laugh. He turned to his window. She’d been changing her mind while Terrance stood holding the car door; Rick had seen it in her face and ducked in the car, just so he wouldn’t see her leave. Hell yeah, it was on purpose, but he had to do something, because his only other choice was to stand in that lobby and try to remember if he’d ever been so fucking jealous in his life
. Pyscho Pete in his bougie faded jeans, black blazer over the white shirt with the tail hanging out, five hundred or more worth of casual. Not including the Rolex. The look on his face. With him?

  Rick gripped the armrest. He guessed it was a goddamn smart move on the psycho’s part, walking out like that. Never would have crossed his mind.

  He froze at the touch under his wrist, warmth sliding under his hand, opening the fist he didn’t know he’d made. He was too stunned to do anything but let her slip her fingers between his, turn and stare at her as she —why? —slid up against him — why?

  He didn’t know, but pulling her closer was automatic. She laid her head on his shoulder, her body tight against his, like she was trying to draw the tension out of him, absorb it into her.

  When she spoke, her breath heated his t-shirt. “I’m sorry.”

  Oh, Christ, Carolyn.

  She didn’t look up once through the entire drive from Manhattan. Rick watched the Brooklyn Bridge supports pass by out the window, felt her hair brush his cheek, trying not to cling to her, but failing with every rotation of the tires beneath them. The car slowed in the street traffic, and he closed his eyes. When they finally stopped, she slid away from him, out the door Terrance opened for her, without looking back.

  Rick took a deep breath as his own door opened in back of the building solid with graffiti. When he got out, he saw Terrance coming around the car with his cell phone to his ear. He snapped the phone shut and nodded at Rick.

  As if on cue, the steel door banged open and the beats from inside the club spilled into the alley. A guy appeared in the doorway and immediately yanked Terrance into a hug. Not necessarily Mykah. Terrance was friends with everybody and all their cousins. Whoever he was, he was a shade shorter, a shade narrower and, in the blinding security lights, a few shades darker than Terrance. So now they had a complete rainbow going back here, running from this guy to Terrance to Carolyn, with Rick coming in dead last, reflecting the entire prism from the lights over the door. Or was it absorbing?

  He looked over his shoulder to tell her that he might have been wrong when he’d told her in the beginning that he didn’t forget shit. She glanced back, but only long enough for him to recall that white reflected the prism, losing the joke the moment he regained the memory of the last thing he’d said to her.