Nikan Rebuilt

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Nikan Rebuilt Page 22

by Scarlett Cole


  Jenny smiled. “You built me a bathroom, Nik. I know it’s not every woman’s idea of romance, but for me it’s perfect.”

  “I kind of hoped the bathroom would impress after trips to New York on a private plane and hundreds of dollars of orchids didn’t cut it.” He pressed his lips to her neck, and she let him.

  “You gave me a dream, Nik. While New York was incredible, and the flowers smelled amazing, our bathroom . . . this house . . . was our dream. Something we built in our heads together, even when it felt so far beyond our means.”

  Nik’s hand slipped down her body and over the boy shorts she’d slept in. He cupped her gently over the fabric, pressing just where she needed him to. “It was a dream for me, too, but only because you were in it with me.”

  “Nik,” she gasped as his hand slipped under the elastic of her underwear.

  “Did I hurt you yesterday?” he asked as his fingers slid over her so gently she couldn’t bear it. “Was I too rough?”

  Jenny shook her head. “No. I meant what I said. I want all the sides of you. In bed and out of it.”

  Suddenly, the alarm on Jenny’s phone began to beep loudly, and they both jumped. “Fuck, my heart,” Nik said, lying back dramatically.

  “Fuck my life,” Jenny grumbled. “I need to get ready, Nik, or I won’t get to my appointment to see my dad.”

  “You won’t with the way you drive,” he said, tugging her to him so that she fell over his chest. He ran his hand over her butt, then slipped his hand into her underwear to stroke her intimately. “But the way I drive, well, I’ll get you there in no time.”

  Jenny lowered her lips to his, teasing him with her tongue until he growled and pulled her over him.

  “Jenny,” he gasped as he ground into her just as they heard heavy footsteps stomping up the porch steps.

  “Fuck, my dick is going to break,” he said, laughing as he righted the two of them. “The contractors are here.”

  Jenny tugged the sheet up to cover herself, even though she was pretty certain they weren’t going to burst into the ground-floor flat they knew Nik was living in. And even if they did, Nik would stop them before they got to the bedroom. “There’ll be time later,” she said, a grin on her face as she took in Nik’s hard-on.

  “Get in that shower,” Nik growled. “And be quick before I decide that joining you in that miserable spray is a good idea.”

  By the time they had both showered—separately, much to Nik’s frustration, it seemed—they found themselves making the two-hour long drive to Millhaven Institution. The closer they got, the faster Jenny’s heart beat and the more she felt like she was suffocating. She pressed the button to open the window and allowed the frigid December air to fill the car as Nik pulled into the parking lot.

  “You okay, Jenny? You don’t have to do this,” Nik said, reaching for her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it gently, the action grounding her. “Or I could come in with you.”

  She didn’t want that. Didn’t want Nik to see what she’d come from. She didn’t want him touched by the man inside the prison walls. “I appreciate the offer, but I need to do this on my own. I need to prove to myself that I am strong enough.”

  Nik turned off the engine and gently took her chin between his thumb and finger, kissing her softly. “I’ll be right here,” he said.

  By the time Jenny had gone through all the procedures to sign in, it took another hour before she was sitting in a chair waiting for her father. She was grateful to Maisey for helping her speed up the process of getting permission to visit an offender through her contacts in the prison service. When her father arrived, she was shocked. His skin, once tanned and healthy from all the time he insisted they spend outside at the commune, now was crepey and the color of gray ash. And the posture of the man she had vague memories of throwing her up in the air before he’d become more and more obsessed with his beliefs was now stooped.

  He smiled at her when he sat down. “Starburst,” he said, almost on a sigh. He closed his eyes as if savoring the moment.

  Jenny’s stomach roiled. To help calm her nerves, she pulled the list from her pocket. “You said I could ask questions.”

  Her father opened his eyes, the only thing still bright about him. “Can we talk first? There are so many things I want to discuss with you.”

  Her mouth felt dry, and she wished she’d asked if it would be okay to bring water in with her. “No. I don’t want to discuss. I need to ask you about Mom. Why did you pick her to go first?”

  “Do you know what is happening soon?” her father asked, completely ignoring her question.

  “I don’t care. I need to know about Mom. How come she ended up dead and you are still alive? How do you feel about that?” Her stomach clenched at the question, and suddenly she wasn’t sure that knowing the answer would make any of this better. There was every chance it could make things worse, and she felt herself slowly coming apart.

  He leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “The first sighting of C/1997 01. You remember how they name comets, don’t you, Starburst?”

  She remembered being drilled, remembered lying out in the field on her back in the bitter cold while her father taught them the difference between a C—a non-periodic comet—and a P—a periodic comet—like the world depended on her remembering the answer. Followed by the year it was first documented. She remembered the way he would slap her with his palm when she got it wrong. The way he would slap her when she didn’t remember the comet’s designations. “Don’t call me Starburst. My name is Jenny.”

  Her father’s jaw twitched, a surefire sign he was getting angry, but she didn’t care.

  “Look,” she said, hissing the words through her teeth. “Honestly, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to hear about another fucking comet. I don’t even care that you are dying,” she said, even though a small part of her heart mourned the loss of the father he should have been, the one she should have had. “You promised me you would answer my questions. Why, Dad? Were you really going to kill me too? Would you have sat there and made me drink it?”

  Her father looked back at her brightly. “I won’t make it, Jenny. I’m too sick. But you need to do it. You need to get the believers together again. You need to tell them that C/1997 01 is the answer to our prayers. I can’t go with you, but I need to die knowing you are saved, Starburst.”

  Jenny gasped at the horror of what he was suggesting. She couldn’t stay. She needed to tell someone what he had asked of her, although she was reasonably certain their conversation was being monitored, something her father had been foolish to not think of. She needed them to know that he was still ill enough to suggest she do the unthinkable. Without saying another word, she grabbed her bag and ran out of the room as quickly as the guards on duty would let her. Behind her, she heard him yell something unintelligible before she could make out his words.

  “Yes, Starburst. I would kill you to know you were saved.”

  She thought of Nik’s words, about what it means to be sorry. They would never apply to her father. He would never be sorry for what he’d done.

  And somehow, she needed to make her peace with that.

  * * *

  Nik looked over to the bed where Jenny was sleeping soundly, then back at his phone before creeping back into the kitchen. She was going to hate him for it, but he’d let her sleep in. Technically, she’d forgotten to set that goddamn phone alarm of hers, but he was awake, and he knew she should be awake too.

  She’d spent so much time the day before in tears, working through the feelings she had for her father. Speaking to him had laid everything bare, and he was worried it would send her back to the way she was when he first met her, disassociated from everything that was going on around her. Yet it hadn’t. She’d leaned on him, and he’d caught her, as he would a million times over. Whenever she needed him.

  Plus, she’d managed to finally calm her racing emotions enough to focus on work she had to do for today and had s
pent an hour before bed reviewing some files. Albi had an important meeting that afternoon with his birth father, and she was still working it through with him so that he was comfortable.

  Right now, Nik had a date with a cup of coffee and the final letter from Wilfred.

  He slipped into the kitchen, poured himself a full mug, and took the stack of letters from the cupboard.

  Carefully, he pulled the last one from its envelope, and drank his coffee as he read.

  My Dearest Avaline,

  It is the 8th of April, 1917, the date of your 21st birthday. Last night, I dreamt of what life will be like when I return home. I dreamt of waking with you in my arms, the smell of bacon as you cook breakfast, the soft cry of a child waking. I dreamt of putting in a good day’s shift and then returning home to find you in that pretty white blouse you wore the day we said goodbye at the train station. I realize that my dreams of a grand life, of returning a hero to a suitable business appointment with a well-heeled salary, mean nothing compared to those simple things I find myself craving more.

  As I write this, the snow has begun to fall, and by the time you read this, everything we have been working toward will have been revealed. I have no idea what God has in store for me, but know this: the joy I have had with you as my love has meant more to me than any of the years that came before. The brightness of your love has kept me warm in this bitter cold. The brightness of my love will illuminate the path for you however things may fall.

  I hope that we will be reunited soon, but if not, I will wait for you, wherever I am.

  Wilfred

  P.S. Should I not return, please do not go back to that imbecile, Jacques Dorsey. I will haunt you for the rest of your days if you do.

  Nik smiled softly. He knew what Wilfred meant. He needed to find out what had happened to him. After he’d read the previous letter, Nik had gotten his phone out and checked the date. The Battle of Vimy Ridge had begun on April 9, and this was the last letter from Wilfred. He needed to find out whether Wilfred had stopped writing because he’d come home, or because he hadn’t.

  He finished his coffee, made another cup for Jenny, and then went to wake her. Since he’d left her, she’d flipped over, and now all he could see was her naked back. His dick stirred to life, but for once he fully intended to keep it in check. Wilfred had said it was the little things in life, and he was right. It was a kiss in the dip of her spine, and the way she’d relied on him to get her home safely the previous day. It was in the way she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the stars tattooed on his chest. It was what they meant to each other. And while he never thought he’d say this, sex was just the fucking gravy.

  Putting the coffee on the side table, he leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Jenny. Babe.” He perched on the edge of the bed and waited as she grumpily turned to face him. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

  He should tell her, but he just needed a little more of her softness before she whipped the cover back like a whirling dervish and bolted for the shower. Nik pressed his lips to her and smiled as she moaned against him. Any minute now, the world would come charging back into her mind: yesterday with her father, Nik going off on tour the following week, the kids at the home. But for now, as her arms slipped around his neck, her eyes still closed, she pulled him closer.

  “I love you,” he murmured against her lips and smiled as her eyes flicked open. There was a love and lust there, and even if she couldn’t bring herself to say anything, he knew.

  “I love you, too, Nik.”

  His heart leapt into his throat, blocking his windpipe. In fact, damn, that burning feeling in his eyes and nose told him he was about to drop fucking tears on her. He pulled back and bit the tip of his tongue sharply to can that level of emotion.

  “Say it again, babe, please,” he said gruffly. “I’ve waited forever to hear you say it again.”

  Jenny smiled and stretched at the same time, and he could see the way her breasts lifted below the dark sheet covering them. “I love you, too. Thank you for taking care of me yesterday. It—”

  Nik kissed her. Pressed his lips hard against her and kissed her with every pent-up bit of feeling he had. Out went his celebration of the small things and in came an immediate need to get out of the jeans he’d pulled on as fast as he could.

  “Nik,” she gasped, pulling on his hair. Her eyes fluttered open—and goddamn they were perfect, like they shone that brightly for him alone. She looked over to the window, where a crack in the curtains revealed that the inky blue sky had begun to lighten. “What time is it?” she gasped as she reached for her phone.

  “Cock-blocked two days in a row,” he said, grinning at her.

  “Nik,” she squealed. “I’m going to be so late.”

  “I brought you coffee.”

  Jenny whipped the bed cover back, took a quick sip, and then dashed to the bathroom. He heard the water turn on and the glass door slide. Once he knew she was a captive audience, he stripped his jeans and joined her.

  Forty minutes later, he dropped her outside of the group home. As she yanked the car door open, he reached for her wrist. “Hey,” he said softly, “you have two minutes to get inside. I think you owe me at least one of them.”

  The corner of Jenny’s mouth tugged up in a smile. “Fine,” she huffed and sat back inside to brush his lips. “I don’t like being late,” she added.

  “You’re not.”

  “And it’s a busy day. I need to get these meetings right,” she continued.

  “And you will, because you are a natural at this, and the city will see that in you, and I am certain they will give you a new job when this one ends,” he said, brushing her lips one last time. “I wish you could see how you amazing you are through my eyes. Remember, I was one of those little kids once. You’re just like Ellen. And they’ll see that.”

  Jenny smiled shyly. “You really think so?”

  Nik nodded. “Absolutely.” He glanced at the clock. “You’d better run, Cinderella. It’s nearly midnight.”

  She glanced at the clock and squealed. “Bye. See you later,” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran up the path.

  Yeah. She would.

  He had two more stops to make. And he knew the first people he wanted to see would be wide awake.

  Ten minutes later, he banged on the front door and waited for it to open.

  “Nikan,” Maisey said in surprise. “We were just about to have breakfast. Come join us.” She kissed his cheek and then tapped it as she always did.

  He walked into the kitchen where Ellen was whisking eggs in a glass bowl while balanced on her crutches. “Shouldn’t you be resting that leg?” Nik asked, stepping up to take the whisk from her. Being comfortable in Ellen and Maisey’s home had taken years, and as he stepped in to begin whisking, he realized it was because he hadn’t been ready or able to believe he’d actually been wanted.

  Ellen glared at him. “Between you and that harridan over there, I’m going to gain twenty pounds. I want to stand up, and I want to whisk my damn eggs,” she said, snatching the whisk out of Nik’s hand. But she followed it with a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, Nik. It’s lovely to see you. Now sit and tell us what’s going on with you.”

  “I’m in love with Jenny,” he said, and then grinned. That wasn’t the lead-in he’d been planning, but it had somehow come out.

  “Oh, Nik, how wonderful,” Maisey said. “Does Jenny feel the same way?”

  He thought of the way she’d smiled at him in bed that morning. “Yeah, she does.”

  Ellen tipped the eggs into the pan. They began to sizzle, and she turned to face him. “I was going to say be careful with that girl’s heart, Nik, but by the look on your face, I can see she might need to look after yours. I’m happy for the two of you. So, she is staying in Toronto then?”

  Nik nodded. “I certainly hope so, although she is working so hard to impress the people you guys work for because she wants another home in Toronto so badly.” />
  Maisey reached for his hand. “She’s making a very positive impression on a number of people. I was talking to another social worker Jenny is in regular contact with, Serissia, and she speaks very highly of Jenny’s skills. I’m sure she’ll be fine, Nik.”

  His heart clenched at the positive news. “She doesn’t need to work as far as I am concerned, but I’ve seen how important this is to her and I know how important Jenny is to the kids she looks after. And I don’t think she’d take the suggestion very well if I made it to her. Hell, the woman complained the first bouquet of flowers I bought her was too big.”

  Both Ellen and Maisey chuckled, but Maisey spoke first as Ellen returned to her eggs. “Your wealth has never been the most interesting thing about you, Nik. But it took someone like Jenny to see that.”

  Nik looked at Maisey. “Do you happen to have any of the old files about me?”

  Ellen placed some toast and eggs in front of him then squeezed his shoulder. “We have all sorts of information we can look through. Why now, Nik?”

  “Because it’s time,” he shrugged. “I want to figure out who I am.”

  Maisey gripped his hand. “In that case, we can start whenever you are ready. Why do you want to do this, Nik? You aren’t doing this because of Jenny, are you?”

  Nik shook his head. “It’s been building for a while. I can’t explain it. I feel displaced. Out of step. And fucking angry. A low-grade anger that I used to be able to escape with old habits. I think it’s time I addressed it. And I think to do that I have to start at the beginning.”

  “Well,” Ellen said, pressing her lips to the top of his head like the mom she was to him, “we’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

  Maisey took hold of his hand.

  He was surrounded by love from two strong women.

  And Jenny.

  Now all he had to fix was his relationship with his brothers.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Footsteps pounded up the front steps of the group home as all of her charges returned from school. Jenny stood and stretched. Another day of meetings, and phone calls, and attempts to shuffle children around in a way that would disrupt them least but help them most. But it had been a good day, a productive one, one where she’d been repeatedly told by her peers that she was doing a great job.

 

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