by Ace Gray
Once he got his feet back under him he brusquely shoved me out of the room. He shut the door in my face, it even snapped against my nose. Tears pooled in my eyes and thick, wild sobs broke the hold I had on my lip. They echoed off the melancholy stone.
At the slamming and sobbing, Laura came running down the hallway. She gathered me into her arms as best she could and hugged me tightly.
"What happened?" Her words were sandwiched by shushes.
“He. Told me. To get. Out,” I was stuttering. And hyperventilating.
"After you told him you were pregnant he kicked you out?" Her voice shot up a few octaves as she dropped her arms, turned around, and started banging on the door. "Bryant! You get out here now!" she bellowed and hammered on the door.
My arms wove around my body, trying to keep that feeling of fracturing at bay. I turned and walked away without a single word to Laura, fighting shakes as I went. What I wanted most was scotch. Scotch would warm my limbs and settle the tremors. When I remembered I couldn’t have a glass, fear squeezed on the sobs making for a wholly mangled sound.
I crumpled to the staircase and dropped my head into my hands. The slightest, softest footsteps were coming toward me but I couldn’t right myself.
“Hey, Kate.” Ari’s voice was soft and hoarse. "I didn't know you were back. He'll be happy.”
Her words pushed more tears down my cheeks. I couldn't help it. She noticed, sat, and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
“Everything will be okay." She leaned her head onto my shoulder.
Laura and Bryant’s bellows ripped through the house, ping ponging off the stone walls and down the hall.
"Laura's here too? Is everything okay?"
"He doesn't want me anymore, Ari. He told me to get out but I…I…” The sobs choked my words and I shook again.
“Kate,” Ari scolded ever so gently.
Any further conversation was interrupted by more shouting and the slamming of doors. I cringed and shrunk down into my shoulders. An instant later, Nick was in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders again.
"Ahhh…" I winced as he pulled me up to standing.
He wordlessly continued yanking, this time up the stairs, more a brutish savage than his usual self.
"Nick, you're hurting me." I knew I sounded whiny and upset, but I was whiny and upset.
Ari, Laura, Gemma, and Jaime were all standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching us go. They all had something to say, right over top of the other, about the way Nick was handling me.
He pulled me all the way to the white room we’d claimed days ago and pushed me across the threshold. I almost stumbled but his hand found my arm again and pulled me back to my feet just before I toppled. The door slammed shut behind us as he started roaring.
"I'll admit ‘mmm drunk. I've drunk enough scotch to drown my sorrows. Twice. So I asssept that I am probably the one missing somethin'." The words were slurry, stilted, and not what I expected. "Why was Laura yellin' at me? Wha' did I do wrong now?"
I looked up at his face, his eyes were every bit the reflection of my insides. Swirling, overwhelmed, and bewildered.
"I jusss wanted you away from the broken glasss." What? "I broke a couple of bottles in there.” He paused and his eyes searched the ceiling. “Okay, like sssix bottles in there." He laughed a pitiful, heartless laugh, his lips staying in his permanent frown.
As usual, I was compelled to comfort that tormented face. I reached out and cradled his cheek with my hand. He leaned tenderly, though rather sloppily, into it.
"I jus got so angry that you were gone. Then I got angry that I couldn't pull my shit together. And then I was out of scotch.” A single tear ran down his cheek and pooled against my fingertips. “This is all my fault,” he whimpered. "I know it wasn't safe for you in the room with the glass but wha' did Laura ge'so mad about it?"
My poor, confused, drunk Nick.
Looking through scotch tinted glasses the whole scene made sense. I could relate and I melted.
“Oh, baby.” My voice was as soft and as soothing as I could make it. "It was a miscommunication. I thought you wanted me out of this house. She thought you wanted me out of your life. I have some bad news…" I was going to rip the Band Aid off and tell him right here, right now but he started babbling over top of me.
"Outta this house? Why on earth would I want you outta the house? I've been counting the minutes till you were back. I tried ta leave the house to come get you but I…I…I just couldn't. I needed you. I wanted you. I want you now.”
He snatched my hand from my body and pulled it to his cock. My breath caught when I touched his rock hardness through his soft sweatpants. I couldn't help it when my fingers wandered over the outline then stroked.
Drunk Nick didn't need further encouragement. He mashed his lips to mine, our teeth clanging against one another. His tongue started frantically exploring my mouth and his hands tangled up into my hair. My lips were trapped against his even as I tried to gasp for air.
This was us, this was what we did best. And us was what I was terrified of losing. I melted into him, letting him push and pull against my lips as he pleased.
Stop, you have to tell him.
The force with which my body rejected that thought was surprising. “Not now.” I didn’t mean to speak out loud.
Luckily, Nick didn’t notice, either. As soon as my lips moved frantically like his, he wrapped an arm around me and started pulling me toward the bed. He shoved the jacket off my shoulders and it softly thumped to the floor. My undershirt wasn’t tight but he struggled with the fabric as we both tumbled to the comforter.
MMMmmm.
His muscles shifted underneath my fingertips, and more importantly, his heart beat against mine. His drunken hands fidgeted at the button of my pants while my lips wandered across his face. My hips pressed against his, rubbing as we both became inpatient. I pulled away and he whimpered in response.
I was gone just long enough to peel my jeans off. A lazy smirk pulled across my face as I bent to pull his sweats off. He smiled a broad, delirious smile and made grabby hands at me. I crouched to slip them off and kissed each of his knees then stopped short.
For the first time, the thought of being on display in front of him made me nervous. What my body actually looked like made no difference; I was completely and utterly self-conscious. When I stood, I’d be naked and pregnant in front of him.
It took me a moment to gather the courage to slither up next to him. By the time I did, soft snoring came from his rugged frame atop the comforter. I dropped my head and it shook of its own accord.
I sighed and sat back. The knot that balled in my throat and accompanied my tears was growing. I wanted him one last time while it was simple chemistry and nothing else. But after everything he’d been through, and the undoubted sleepless nights, waking him was a level of selfish I wasn’t comfortable with.
So instead, I studied his face. There were his usual firm lines, a strong jaw, and his soft long lashes. But there were more worried creases now, the dark shadow of full beard scruff filling in, and the crust of too many tears hung heavy around his eyes. The sadness that hung on his features matched my downheartedness.
With a sigh, I tucked him in, careful not to jostle the bed too much. I curled up in the comforter at his side, and even deliriously drunk, his body recognized mine, bending around my shape.
This was going to change—no—everything was going to change.
My mind raced. A few times I even thought my heart problems started back up. I was going to have tell him about Victor, Christopher, Vesper and the baby all at once.
I need a scotch and cell phone. Doctor’s orders be damned.
I wiggled to get both, but Nick’s arm kept me pinned firmly to the mattress.
A sigh slipped passed my lips, more exaggerated than strictly necessary, as I resigned myself to stay put. Panic induced to-do lists barreled through my brain as furiously as they had after Dr. Chambers had delive
red the news. The compulsion to get angry or drunk grew even stronger.
I'm the last person that should be allowed to have a child.
That was a surefire way to spiral. I forced myself to memorize brocade curtain patterns, count ceiling panels, and trace book bindings where they sat on dark shelves instead. There was so much in the room that I kept occupied for hours and eventually my mind cleared.
When soft sunlight warmed my face, I realized I’d fallen asleep and shot straight up. Or tried to anyway. Nick was still woven around me.
"Thank God you're back. For a second I thought I dreamed that." Nick was mumbling into his pillow and I was going to answer when he continued, "I think I remember shouting at Laura. I definitely remember kissing you. Did you say something about bad news?"
Oh fuck. Goddamnedfuckingshitpiss.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like hell, Sweets, but that doesn't change that I need to know the bad news."
Duck, dodge, bob and weave. Then maybe, just maybe, I can stretch it out long enough to have him once more.
Mercifully, there was a knock at the door. I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding.
"What do they want?” Nick’s growl sent shivers down my spine. “Do they think they can bother me now because you're here to broker peace?”
"I doubt anyone wants to bother you at all, ever again for that matter. Particularly after last night. They’re probably here to speak to me." I untangled myself from Nick and his disproving look, grabbing a sheet in lieu of a robe. Jaime was waiting patiently, face drawn, on the other side of the door.
"Kate, are you okay? You don't look like you got any sleep…" Jaime was whispering as he reached out to rub my arm. I tried to find a reassuring smile but nothing could change the set of my lips.
"What's up?"
Nick was tossing and turning behind me in bed. Jaime must have noticed too because he creased his brow as he snuck a glance behind me.
“Brooklyn is on the phone and he needs to speak with you. He has additional details on the fire and a few recommendations to make.” Jaime sighed and I squinched my face, remembering the real world.
I nodded. "I'll be right out. Could you possibly have the staff prepare breakfast?" Nick would need something for this hangover.
“I would but apparently, he’s fired everyone."
Of course he has.
It was something I would do in a fit of rage too.
"Fine. Meet me in the kitchen. I’ll cook breakfast.” I shut the door before he had a chance to respond and scooped my clothes off the floor. I sighed heavily as I slipped back into my T-shirt and jeans.
"This have anything to do with this bad news?" Nick eyed me suspiciously.
I simply shot him a look over my shoulder and decided I wasn't answering questions right now.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
"You're going to cook?"
“Yes, Nick. But I have business to attend to, so simpler would be better."
"What business?" He seemed equally intrigued and grouchy about it.
"We'll discuss it later." My answer was short as I padded out the door. “Pancakes?” I didn’t wait for the answer before pulling it shut behind me.
30.
Brooklyn had been busy. He’d been able to question Victor, draft formal charges with his uncle and had a lead on a temporary space for Vesper. He’d hired additional security for One Madison and The Venture Group properties; he simply needed the financial okay to move forward.
Christopher had vanished into thin air after he and Jaime had fought in the apartment.
I was whipping egg whites with the phone pinned beneath my ear when the room fell silent. My voice echoed off the stone and the chatter of my whisk bounced off every wall. I turned to find every single person twisted awkwardly to watch Nick as he strolled in and took a seat at the kitchen island. I paid him no attention but noticed how everyone stepped back from the hunched ball of pissy that was my fiancé.
“Thank you Brooklyn. For everything. Please make sure your uncle knows just how grateful I am as well.” I focused on preparing the food in front of me rather than the way Nick’s eyes narrowed when I said it.
I hung up and handed the phone back to Jaime, the whole room held a collective breath as I put bacon on to sizzle.
"Smells delicious, Kate.” Nick’s voice was perfectly flat and I could picture his eyes, steely and intense. “Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”
"Jaime, please move forward with everything Brooklyn recommends except the temporary space. I need to see what the final damage was to the building before making that decision.”
My hand pressed into my chest out of habit.
“What’s going on Kate?” Nick’s temper was barely bridled.
“Jaime, I know it’s not technically within your scope, either, but can you coordinate things for the Hampton’s house.”
“I’m happy to help.” Gemma smiled as she piped up and patted Jaime’s arm.
Jaime smiled down on her and nodded. Both pulled out cell phones, and stepped out of the kitchen. I could hear them both start their respective conversations.
That should be me.
"Kate, you shouldn’t be cooking, let alone on those phone calls.” Laura warned over top of a cup of coffee, reading my thoughts.
Did she just say that in front of Nick?
My temper balled up in my throat. Something she didn’t seem to notice because she had the audacity to add, “You’re under doctor's orders.” That did it, the small damn holding my temper at bay, broke.
I fired, "Screw you" back at her the same moment Nick growled, "What?" in my direction.
I'll kill her.
"Bryant we will discuss it later." I slammed the giant stack of pancakes I’d finished on the island and glared at Laura. I shoved the bacon at them a moment later and it slid across the stone a few inches before I stormed out of the room.
I was angry, helpless, scared, and to top it off, pretty damn nauseous.
This is all your fault isn't it?
I found myself looking down, pissed, at my stomach.
Laura yelled, “You should eat" from the kitchen. I screamed fuck off Laura! in my head but didn't give her the satisfaction of an actual reaction. I turned down an unfamiliar hallway hoping no one would follow.
The warm air seeping from the end of the hall drew me in and away from the chaos. I stepped through white french doors into a solarium—into heaven. The tropical air enveloped me like a friendly hug. I wandered around for a moment, smelling different flowers and letting my fingers trail across waxen leaves. For the briefest moment I could breathe and think and relax again.
Then my stomach lurched and I lost any hint of tranquility.
I plopped ungracefully onto one of the lounge chairs tucked in the back. The sun had been warming the yellow and white striped pillow and I let it do the same to my face as I laid back and tried to curl into a comfortable position.
Closing my eyes was relaxing for a moment but then it left me trapped in my own spiraling head. I let out an exasperated growl of my own just before Ari’s giggle pealed from the other side of the palms. She rounded the corner into the hidden nook with a plate of pancakes.
"Not having the best week?" Despite everything, she was smiling a small sad smile.
“Nope. How about yourself?"
"Downright shitty. Thanks for asking." Her smile grew and it was infectious.
I crossed my knees, making room for her at the foot of the lounge. She sat and handed me the pancakes.
"Everyone was adamant that you should eat something. So adamant, in fact, they started arguing with each other. I figured that, as the only sane person left in the house, I would try and help."
I took the outstretched plate even though the normally delicious smell of bacon made my stomach flip. I picked at it for a while, eventually deciding to set it aside with a deepening frown. I'd give it a try once I didn't feel like heaving all ove
r the place. Ari watched me carefully but didn't press the issue.
She stayed put, silently rubbing on my shin the way her mother would have. Emotion built in my throat again, even my hand started shaking. My anger had evaporated and I’d landed back on hurt.
“Do you ever get over it?" she asked quietly.
“Get over what, Ari?”
Ari turned away and I guessed it was because she didn’t want to see the sorrow on my face when I answered. Her big, animated personality had deflated. I moved as far to the side as I could and patted the space next to me. She turned toward the sound and managed a forlorn, almost mocking grin.
"I don't know. All of it, I guess? The realization that your parents are gone forever?" she asked as she slid into place.
I sat staring at the ceiling, realizing the pattern here was even more soothing to trace than the ones I’d found in the perfectly crisp curtains of the white bedroom.
"Get over it? No. At least, I don't think so. It does get easier though. You don’t focus on the pain as much after time, you just let it hang there, like a really heavy necklace.” I sighed.
"How long has it been weighing on you?"
"Nine years.”
"Still miss them?"
"Every damn day.” I took a deep breath. "I wish they could meet Nick. I wish they could see Vesper, or could have seen Vesper.” I corrected myself with a loud sigh. “I wish my dad was giving me away at my wedding. I wish my mom was here for advice about…" I let my voice trail off. I couldn't say the baby out loud yet. “Sometimes I just want a hug.” I leaned my head to her shoulder and started chewing on my lip again.
"I didn't know my dad well enough but I'm going to feel that way about my mom aren't I?" She shrugged and I just nodded. “Kate, I'm really glad you're part of my family." She threw her arms around me.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
A future, complete with family, was falling through my fingers like tiny little grains of sand. The more I held on, the faster it was seeping out of my fist.
“We’ll see about that." I couldn't help but picture the flat steel gray Nick’s eyes would turn when I finally spilled everything.
