Carson smiles and takes my hand. “Only if you're the person who oversees it.”
I nod my head, patting his chest. “Agreed.”
Carson smiles and gives me another kiss on the temple. “I love you, 'Lissa.”
“I love you too, Carson. Was there anything else you wanted to ask me about?”
Carson nods, looking up at Ascension again. “Has Nathan said anything about the fact you've made him into one of your angels?”
I shake my head, sighing. “No. Do you think he's noticed?”
“Well, let me put it this way. The past few times I've been here with him to push him in his rehab while Andrea's at campus or studying, he's stopped each time, looking up at that one figure in particular. He doesn't say anything, but I can see it in his eyes. He recognizes it for what it is. I told you when we invited him to stay... still waters run deep.”
“Do they run at all?” I ask, afraid. “Carson, do they really run at all?”
“I know yours do,” Carson says. “Why don't you say something to him about how you feel?”
“I can't,” I say, my breath catching. Dammit, why? Why do I have to be this way? I'm emotionally crippled, trapped within a shell that has panic attacks too often, leaving me trapped on a farm and unable to even give voice to a man I want more than anything else. “I can't tell him.”
“Well, if I were you,” Carson says carefully, “I'd do my best to force myself to say something. While you've been out here, he's been on the phone with some of his contacts in New Orleans and Baton Rouge. He's talking about getting his own place again, somewhere he can keep a better ear to the ground on what Peter DeLaCoeur might be bringing against us next.”
At the mention of my father, I take a deep, shuddering breath and clench my fists, trying to fight down the panic. Carson puts his arm around me again and holds me carefully for a minute while the wave passes. When I can speak again, I can only think of Nathan. “Is he really thinking of leaving?”
Carson nods, and when he speaks, I swear I hear sadness in his voice. “'Lissa, what drives you to be a great artist?”
“I... it's just in my heart. I want to create beautiful things to try and show how I want the world to be.”
“That's part of it,” Carson agrees, letting go of me and taking my hand, “but at the core, you do it because you're driven to be a great artist, 'Lissa. It's who you are, it's your identity. At your soul, you are an artist. Nathan... Nathan is a protector. I think even if there wasn't the threat from Peter, Nathan would be out there protecting someone. And right now, for him, the greatest goal he has in life is to protect our family. It's what gets him out of bed every morning. It's what drove him in his recuperation, and it's what will always drive him.”
“That's not a bad thing,” I say softly, thinking of Nathan. “It's noble.”
“It is now,” Carson agrees. “But he's in pain too, you know.”
“Aisha,” I whisper, thinking of the little bit I know of Nathan's long-dead love.
“Perhaps, but it's more I think because of the evil he did after her death,” Carson replies. “He's not sure he's worthy of love anymore. At least, that's what Katrina thinks when we talked about it at Christmas. But you need to tell him, 'Lissa. If not, I think he's going to move out because he thinks he can better protect the entire family from a different place.”
“You think that's why he nixed our idea of getting him another dog?” I ask, thinking about the only thing that hurt about Christmas this year. Nathan was polite, but firm on his insistence that we would not get him another dog.
“I don't know, 'Lissa. He may have a lot of reasons. But you should still talk to him.”
I shake my head, hugging myself. “I... I can't, Carson.”
Carson looks like he's about to protest, then sighs. “Okay, 'Lissa. Just remember what I said, okay? He might not stick around forever, and I don't want you to have any regrets. Either way though, I'll be here for you, and Andrea, too.”
I nod again, quiet. “Thank you. Give me a few minutes, then? I just want to think a bit more, then I'm coming inside.”
Carson hums, and gives me a quick hug. “Okay. Don't wait too long, okay? Andrea picked up some cheesecake when we went shopping the other day, saving it just for this occasion. It's organic, super creamy supposedly. Best of all, Andrea said she's making chocolate sauce just for you.”
I smile. The idea of chocolate sauce cheers up any day. “Five minutes, little brother. Just five minutes.”
Carson leaves the barn and I sit in the rapidly dimming light, thinking. I'm running out of time, and I knew it couldn't last forever, but how do I do it? How do I tell the first man I've ever had feelings for that I’m interested in him?
Chapter Two
Nathan
The morning mist is cold, but I've dealt with far worse as I do my warm-up exercises on the porch, looking out on the dooryard. I've been in snow literally up to my ass, and in deserts so hot you could feel the air sucking the water from your pores even in whatever shade you could find or make. Mist and forty degrees is mild compared to any of that.
The door to the house opens behind me, the screen squeaking softly as Andrea steps out, yawning. “You know, Nathan,” she grumbles good-naturedly as she rubs at the back of her neck, “since we're on vacation, you can actually hold off on doing your runs until after the sun's come up over the horizon.”
I chuckle and look over at Andrea, who's dressed in running tights and a light warm-up jacket, her black hair pulled back and braided, a style she's favored more and more since she and Carson have been together. Considering what I've overheard from their bedroom, I know exactly why, too.
I step off the porch and starting walking back and forth in short laps, getting my blood flowing. I'm not twenty-two like Andrea anymore, even if I don't look my age. When the mornings are cold and damp, my knees and lower back always ache. It takes me a while to get the blood flowing and my body limbered up. I can still hold my own, but it doesn't come as quickly anymore. While Andrea does her stretches, I take the time to do a more thorough warm-up until my heart is beating a bit more quickly and I can feel sweat inside my shirt. “You know me. By the way, I’m glad Melissa is on board with everything. I didn’t think she would mind you and Carson making your commitment to each other more official though.”
“Yeah, but you know how Carson is. Both of us, really. We wanted her to be okay with it,” Andrea replies as she bends down and touches her toes. “So that's why we were both so deliriously happy last night, and why Carson was maybe more... enthusiastic than usual.”
“Sounds like quite the experience,” I deadpan as Andrea comes off the porch. “Does that mean I need to slow down on this run?”
Andrea's sense of determination is something I noticed long ago. I used to think it was mostly an academic thing, but she’s like that in everything she does. She's driven to be the best person she can be, whether it's as a sister, soon-to-be wife, or best friend.
Still, with all her focus being on others, I want to see her help herself as well. I learned long ago in the Special Forces that the best way to lead is not always to order your soldiers where you're going, but instead guide them so they head that direction because they want to.
“You don't need to slow down for anything, Nathan,” Andrea replies, grinning fiercely. “In fact, I was thinking that in celebration, perhaps you and I can take the long way out and back today? That is, if you can keep up.”
She’s good. Real good. “Show me what you've got, little one.”
We start our run slowly. All joking aside, Andrea's been a fantastic helper during my recovery. She was the one who recognized I was having problems with my kidneys and insisted I go into the clinic for treatment. Turning right at the end of the side road that connects the farm to the Old Spanish Trail, we stick to the side of the road.
“So how were your talks with your friends last night?” Andrea asks as we jog along. In true military fashion I never wear headphon
es, and Andrea likes to chat as we run to keep her breathing in check.
“Okay I guess,” I answer, seeing the first landmark on our route, the end of the first mile where we both pick the pace up a little bit. “Not a lot available for me to rent out right now.”
“You mean not a lot of underground flophouses that'll let you pay cash and not give a name,” Andrea replies, chuckling. “Nathan, I think you're lying to me. Or to yourself.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, picking up our pace a little. Andrea keeps up without any problems, and I know by the end she'll be pushing me. I may have quite a bit of leg length on her, but she’s got youth on her side. But I enjoy the challenge, and I never back down.
“I mean, Nathan, that I know for sure you've got fake papers on top of fake papers in various places,” she says with a chuckle. “You want to rent an apartment or a house, you've probably got half a dozen names and SSNs you can use right now.”
“That's true,” I huff, remembering just how smart Andrea is. Anyone who underestimates her is taking a very big risk. “Your point?”
“I think you're limiting yourself because you don't want to leave the farm,” she says, glancing over. “I think you like living here.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “Not that it matters.”
“Would it matter if I told you Melissa doesn't want you to leave?” Andrea asks in her blunt fashion. I stumble slightly, losing my stride for a few steps, and Andrea smirks. “I thought so.”
“Still don't matter,” I say again once I get my rhythm back. Andrea gives me a surprised glance, and I can tell she's asking for an explanation. I keep my silence though, until she decides to push the issue.
“Does it have something to do with Aisha?” she asks, matching me stride for stride as I speed up. “Come on Nathan, you can't outrun me, you know it. Answer me or don't answer me, but don't give yourself a heart attack over it.”
I slow to a stop, and Andrea stops after a few steps, turning back to me and giving me a beseeching look. “Come on, Nathan. You're someone I've looked up to for years. Talk to me.”
I sigh, looking out over the road. “Andrea... do you know how much blood stains these hands? You count me as an ally, and you are correct, but I am not a good man. I'm the evil that is only good for fighting another kind of evil. That’s what I am.”
“Bullshit!” Andrea snaps, her voice cracking like a whip. “I swear to God if I ever hear you call yourself evil again, you won't have to worry about Peter, or anyone else, because I'm going to kick your ass! Now tell me the truth, dammit.”
I can't help it, the firecracker I see in front of me makes me smile even as she pisses me off, and I decide to tell her the truth. “Fine,” I reply, making sure my voice stays calm. “Yes, I like Melissa. Yes, I wish I could do more with our relationship than what I have. And yes, if I had my choice, Melissa is the woman I would take into my bed. But I don't have that choice, Andrea.”
“Why?”
“Because she's too good! Despite the problems she has, despite the issues that have torn her apart for most of her life, she is still a beautiful soul. Better than I deserve, that's for damn sure. How can I even dare to think that someone as bloodstained and violent as I have been could have a life of peace? Face it Andrea, those angels sitting in the barn don't have anything on her. When she passes on, if there is a God, she'll already have earned her wings. Me... when I die, I am sure Satan's got a special corner of Hell reserved for me. I cannot change that.”
Andrea looks down, shaking her head. “You're wrong, Nathan. But I can't force you to do anything your stubborn ass isn't willing to do yourself. Just know if you fuck this up, it's on you, trooper. Now, let's run.”
Andrea's words are still disturbing me later in the afternoon while I watch Melissa work in the barn. She's got the doors open today as she finishes her sculpture. She's looking for flaws but also evaluating how the piece should be displayed. It's a commission for a school out in Arizona or something, and I'm moved seeing it. Every time.
“Hey Nathan!” Melissa calls from the barn and I wave from the porch, where she can't see the Colt on the table next to me. “How's it look?”
“Beautiful!” I call back, not meaning the statue in the least. Melissa doesn't know that though as she gives me a dazzling smile and climbs back up the side, taking a polishing cloth to one of the wings. I don't know what she saw, but she's working hard, and I think about just how beautiful she really is.
When all this shit with Peter kicked off, I had no idea it'd bring me to this place, to the company of this woman. And along the way, I made a very serious promise. I promised I would protect this family. From Katrina, who is very capable but still not quite as hardened as she thinks she is, to Andrea, whose mind is strong enough to more than make up for having such a small body., And of course, Jackson and Carson as well. But of the whole family, the two that I will always defend hardest are Melissa, and Baby Andrea, Katrina and Jackson's daughter. Both are so innocent, both are still able to be something worthwhile. I know the reality of living in this fucked up world where a man like me has nearly as much money as Melissa does, and all of it earned via blood and death. Nobody in the family knows the full extent of my past. The body count is enough to fill a small cemetery, and every night I'm haunted by the ghosts of those dead men, women and children. They whisper in my ear, telling me there's no way I'll ever have the peace and happiness I want when I see Melissa.
I sigh, and wonder what I'm going to do. I do know one thing, though. I will protect this family, no matter what. I just have to figure out how I'm going to be able to protect them from Peter. Andrea and Carson may have given him an ultimatum, warning him to stay away, but I worked for the man for too many years to think he'll stop now. His entire life is in chaos after being burned severely. Peter had sent a deadly assassin named Vadim Orloff after us, Andrea in particular, having her kidnapped. Carson was able to kill Orloff when he rescued Andrea, and together they rigged the motor home where Peter thought he would be meeting Orloff. The man will not back off. He will only strike back. The only thing that has bought us this much time of relative peace is that Peter's had to use so many of his resources just to keep himself out of prison and to keep up the facade of his lifestyle. He can't devote all of his resources to us. But this reprieve won't last forever.
“Hey, Nathan?” Melissa calls, and I look up, perhaps a bit more excited than I should be to hear her voice. She sounds so happy and innocent, I can't take that away from her. I can't destroy this angel.
“Yes, Melissa?”
“What about some afternoon tea?” she asks, climbing down. “I can call Carson to send the crew out to collect Ascension.”
“I would love some,” I say happily, getting up. “I have one I haven't shared with anyone here yet, would you like to try? You and I can be the first.”
“Is it a hot one?” Melissa asks, coming up and rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. “That steel is so cold to the touch!”
I reach out, taking her ice cold fingers in my hands. I warm them carefully. They’re creator's hands, artist's hands, not the stumpy, bloody hands of a butcher like myself. I have hands that only know how to destroy. Face it, it feels good to hold her hands, even if only to warm them, and I give myself this moment of greedy pleasure. “Does that help?”
“Th... thank you,” Melissa says shyly, giving me a little smile. “Nathan...”
Before she can say anything, my cell phone rings, and I can tell by the call it's from Katrina, who rarely calls unless something is wrong. For her to call me... a stab of concern goes through my heart, and I let go of Melissa's hands. “I'm sorry, 'Lissa. I need to take this.”
She nods, maybe with a bit of regret, and goes inside the house. She busies herself with drawing water for my ceramic water heater while I answer the phone. “Yes, Katrina?”
All business, I hear in Katrina's voice the warrior I've come to respect and listen to. “I just got word from my sources. Peter's
making his next move.”
“What is it?”
“Another Orloff. Maybe a team of them. We need to have a family meeting. Where are Carson and Andrea?”
“In town, doing a little bit of New Year's paperwork for MCS and some shopping.”
“Okay. I'll call them. Jackson and I have already contacted our assistants at the dojo, we're going to pack up our stuff in the van and head out there.”
“You bringing your heavy artillery?” I ask, and Katrina chuckles. It's not a kind laugh either, she knows I'm not joking. The woman packs heat that even I don't carry most of the time.
“Damn right. See you in an hour and a half?”
“An hour and a half. We will be waiting.”
Katrina hangs up, and I go inside. Melissa looks up, her eyes full of worry. “What is it?”
I sigh and go over, wrapping her in a hug. It's not romantic even though I wish it was, but rather a way to support and comfort her as I say what comes next.
“Peter is coming.”
Chapter Three
Melissa
Carson and Andrea get home first. When they pull up in Carson's pickup, I see they've both got worried expressions on their faces. They're trying to be casual about things though when they get out, greeting me on the porch. “Hey, 'Lissa. How was your work this morning?”
“I think Ascension is finished, you can call the movers,” I tell Carson, trying to be brave. It's hard though, and my heart is galloping in my chest. It's been racing nonstop since Nathan told me about Peter, even though Nathan's done everything he could to try and reassure me. We sat down to have tea together, and he even held me close and whispered in my ear that everything would be okay. He doesn't touch me often, he’s always in control of his emotions, but he did today. “Think they can pick it up soon?”
Retribution: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Secrets & Lies Book 3) Page 2
