Nash’s tension seemed to increase with every mile after we passed Coos Bay. I tried to think of a good quip about dropping me outside town if he was so worried about someone seeing us, but every idea I had sounded too petulant to voice, so I just rode on in silence. We rolled into Rainbow Cove in the early afternoon, and it didn’t escape my notice that Nash took Lakeview for the long way around town, using back streets to approach our neighborhood rather than cutting through downtown like normal.
He pulled into his garage, right next to his old truck. “Oops. Was on autopilot,” he lied. “Should have dropped you off first.”
“No worries,” I lied right back. “I don’t mind the walk. Need to stretch my legs anyway.” I did wait a beat, see if he wanted to invite me in—neither of us had to be anywhere before the evening shift—but he just looked at the cracked cement floor of the garage as he gathered his things, not meeting my eyes.
“So…uh…I’ll call you. Or text.” Nash’s neck was flushed. He was most likely having major second thoughts about everything, but I was having a hard time summoning sympathy.
“Sure. Whatever.” I headed for the side door of the garage.
“Wait. Mason.” Nash caught up to me, turning me to face him. He gave me a fast, hard kiss. “I don’t like leaving things between us all weird—”
“Then don’t.” I kissed him back softer and slower, taking my time to reacquaint our mouths.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
But you did. I bit my lip, unable to let those words out. Hurt seemed inevitable here, on both sides, but I couldn’t keep from holding him closer. He rested his head against mine. “I mean it when I say I’ll call. We’ll figure this thing out. Promise.”
I nodded as I broke away. I wished I believed him, but I couldn’t. My head was in a fog as I took the alley back to my place. I was unlocking my side door when a voice made me jump and nearly fall off the step.
“Where have you been?” Jimmy’s tone was hard.
“What do you mean?” I glanced at the driveway—why in the hell hadn’t I noticed Jimmy’s battered car when we’d turned onto the street? Because you were too wrapped up in Nash. Too busy being miserable.
“You weren’t here when I knocked. I was about to drive off.”
Why the hell didn’t you? “I was…out for a walk.”
“With your shit?” Jimmy gestured, indicating my duffel bag. Fuck. I’d forgotten I was holding it. “And your car’s in the garage? Where the hell have you been?”
“None of your business.”
“So you say, but Ringer said you was in Portland. I’m dealing with this crap with Dad on my own here and you’re sneaking around—”
“You’re going to lecture me on sneaking around?” I stared him down. “That’s rich. When was the last time you did something on the up-and-up?”
“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life.” Jimmy kicked at a stray piece of gravel. “And all I’m saying is there’s rumors floating around about you. Heard you and Flint get all cozy at the tavern. You and him buddies now?” He glanced down the street, in the direction of Flint’s place, and Lord, the only thing I needed was Jimmy doing the math.
“My friends are my business, not yours. Why are you really here?” I kept my voice firm, trying to send the signal that my activities were off-limits, but Jimmy’s eyebrows were knit together like he was thinking too hard.
“I gotta go to Coos Bay. Francine needs a ride back to town.”
I groaned. The two of them back together in any capacity did not bode well for my sanity. “And this involves me how?”
“Dad’s still doing badly. Leg’s all swollen and his color ain’t great. He won’t listen to me about going to that urgent-care clinic downtown, but he might you. I can’t even get him to run that blood-meter thingie of his.”
“Fuck.” The co-pay for urgent care was going to suck, as was convincing Dad to go in the first place. “Okay, okay. Let me throw my stuff down and then I’ll head over.”
“Good.” Jimmy looked me over as if to size me up. I tried not to cower under almost three decades of being found wanting by him. “You fucking around with someone? With Flint? Told you I’ve heard—”
“What?” I didn’t have to pretend my outrage. “What the fuck business of yours is that?”
“Better not. That’s all I’m saying.” He had a sour expression that made his thin face even more pinched than usual. “Or anyone else we know.”
I forced myself not to shuffle or squirm. “I wouldn’t fuck one of your friends if they paid me, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Good. Not that they’d have your scrawny ass,” he added sharply.
I clenched my jaw against the urge to tell him about the friend of his and Freddy’s that I’d blown senior year. Fighting with him wasn’t going to solve anything. “Shouldn’t you be worrying about your own self? Are you taking Lilac with you?”
“Yeah. She misses her mama.” Jimmy gestured back at the car, where, sure enough, Lilac was in the backseat, playing on Jimmy’s phone. At least the windows were all rolled down. “You’ll text me how Dad is?”
It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Jimmy. He might not care for me, but I knew he did love Dad. The two of them were a cranky pair of co-dependents who I didn’t fully understand, but I nodded. At the last moment, I fished out my wallet and found a twenty. “Get Lilac some food on the way?”
“I can feed my own damn kid.” Jimmy plucked the money from my fingers.
“You’re welcome.” I rolled my eyes at him as he headed back to his car.
Letting myself back into the house, I groaned. Fuck. What I really wanted was a nap, but instead I needed to text Adam and Logan that I might be late and then go deal with Dad. And wasn’t that likely to be a basket of kittens?
I tossed my duffel bag onto my bed. And hell, I apparently couldn’t see my bed without also seeing Nash in it. Last night, when it had seemed like we might actually have a shot at a future, felt so distant and yet the memories were visceral. God, the way Nash had looked when I’d pushed inside him…
It was humbling, the trust he’d put in me, and I knew in my gut that we’d both meant the words we’d said. This was more than fucking to both of us. Of that I had no doubt. But it didn’t matter. Jimmy was perilously close to stumbling on the truth, and if he was, then everyone else was, too. And if I loved Nash at all, I needed to do the merciful thing and end this before he got hurt. It didn’t matter how much it stung that he didn’t want to come out. I wasn’t going to be the one to wound him if I could help it. And even if he was willing to come out, my stupid fucking family was always going to be between us. Time to pay up and do the right thing—put Nash first, as much as losing him would kill me.
Twenty-Two
Nash
“You heading out?” Holmes asked as she came into the station. “Heard it was a rough day.”
Rough was an understatement of biblical proportions. A father and his teenage son who lived south of the high school had gotten into an argument, both waving hunting rifles around. Now the father was dead and the son in critical care. I’d have to continue my investigation in the morning, but it was looking like a long week already, and my chest ached for the family and first responders who’d had to deal with the mess. Derrick Holmes in particular had looked torn up as they’d loaded the son for transport.
“Derrick okay?” I asked Candace. “You need some extra time or—”
“We’re good.” She gave me a tight smile. “Shootings always get to him, but I think he’d rather just sleep than have me fussing over him. I left him some peach cobbler for when he wakes up.”
“That’ll be nice for him.” A weird pang resonated deep in my chest as I walked out after saying my goodbyes. Derrick and Candace had each other, and, on days like today, that mattered.
Who do you have? Mason had asked me that weeks earlier, and I’d had no good answer at the time. It’d been a few da
ys since our return from Portland—we’d both been busy, but I had the distinct impression he was dodging my texts. I don’t want to need you, he’d said that night in Portland, and Lord knew I felt the same, but after the day I’d had, I needed him in a way that I’d never needed someone before, a way that I hadn’t thought possible.
Before Mason, I’d head home, pour myself a double, take a long bath, and settle in for a sleepless night. But now, my feet had other ideas, walking directly from my garage to Mason’s house.
Heart hammering, I knocked at his kitchen door. Mason must have been nearby because he opened the door almost instantly. Shirtless, he was down to jeans riding low on his hips, and he looked as tired as I felt, beard shadow and bags under his eyes making him look older than usual. “Nash? What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing’s wrong.” I hadn’t ever shown up unannounced or straight from work, so who knew what he was thinking, seeing me standing there in uniform, probably more than a little frazzled looking.
“You’re lying.” He ushered me into the kitchen, where he had a mug of tea steeping on the counter. The air smelled vaguely like popcorn. I’d interrupted his before-bed snack.
“I should go—”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Mason pressed the tea into my hands. “Drink something before you fall over.”
I took a grateful sip. I couldn’t believe how close I was to completely falling apart. I’d never been this unhinged around anyone. Mason’s face stayed solemn. “Anyway, it’s good you’re here. We need to talk.”
“Gene Hinkie’s son shot him today, but not before Gene fired back.” I gulped down the warm tea, welcoming the burn of the liquid. Had a feeling that wasn’t the talking he had intended, but the words needed to spew before I lost my ever-loving mind.
“Oh, Nash.” Mason took me in his arms, giving me some of his strength. My knees no longer seemed that close to buckling. “And you were there?”
“Got there too late to do a damn lick of good.” I rested my head against his hair, breathing deep, letting the smell of his shampoo and skin drown out some of the day’s stench.
“So glad you’re safe.” Mason held me close.
“Sorry for unloading on you.”
“Never apologize for that,” he said fiercely, steering me toward his bedroom.
Somehow, like always, he seemed to understand exactly what would help, helping me strip until we were both down to our underwear. Pulling the covers back, he crawled in after me then arranged the covers over us. It didn’t matter that it was summer—my soul was freezing and only gathering Mason close under the comforter helped. I lay with my head on his chest, arms wrapped around his waist, holding him and listening to his beautiful, strong heart. Hands stroking my shoulders, he murmured soothing things that I hadn’t known I’d needed to hear.
Gradually, some of the weight I’d been carrying around slipped off, leaving me depleted and sleepy. “Shouldn’t sleep here,” I mumbled.
“Already set you an alarm.” Mason’s fingers sifted through my hair.
“And you wanted to talk…” I ended with a yawn.
“In the morning. Sleep now.” He pressed a clumsy kiss to the top of my head, and I gave in to my heavy eyelids and let sleep claim me.
Sometime in the night, our bodies found each other—solace in each kiss, comfort in each touch, each movement a vital affirmation that we were alive and okay, at least for the moment. I stroked both our cocks as I lost myself in his kiss. I wasn’t so far gone with my own troubles that I couldn’t sense his sadness or see the regret in his eyes. He was giving me this, giving me tonight, but part of him was saying goodbye.
And I sure as hell wasn’t ready for that. I clung to him desperately, trying to chase away whatever was prickling at him with my kiss, trying to tell him how much I needed him with my touch, how I couldn’t let him go, not ever. I tumbled over first, and when he followed, his face was damp against my neck.
“Nash—”
“Ssh. Sleep.” I mopped him up as best as I could then held him until he drifted back asleep. In what had to be my most cowardly moment, I reset his alarm to his usual wakeup time and snuck out, leaving a note I scrawled on the back of a receipt saying that I’d call him. We would talk like he wanted, but later. Later when I’d had time to steel myself for it, time to come to terms with what was happening, what he wanted, time to get my head straight about my job. And maybe, part of me wanted time to come up with a counterargument, a reason to get him to stay, really stay, but not talk.
After a few restless hours back at my house, I showered and headed back to work—the place that had to be my first priority right now—in a fresh uniform. I was almost to the station when the scanner in the Jeep crackled.
“Chief? I’ve got Holmes requesting backup at a traffic stop on Lakeview and Butte.”
“I’m on it. ETA three minutes.” I flipped on my flashers and pulled a U-turn. Lakeview and Butte…
Please don’t be a Hanks. Please. But of course, no one was listening to my paltry prayers. Sure enough, Jimmy Hanks’s beater car was pulled up in front of Holmes’s cruiser. And when I got out of the Jeep, Holmes had Jimmy over the hood of his car, cuffs on, and was reading him his rights.
He was cussing up a blue streak. “Why don’t you arrest her? Stupid cow started it, hitting me.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Holmes’s voice had no humor to it.
“Situation, officer?” I asked, hanging back slightly, both to give her room to work and for me to assess.
“Pulled them over for reckless driving and suspected DUI—car crossed the center line three times and skidded on the shoulder.”
Oh, fuck. This was bad, and from Holmes’s dark expression, this wasn’t the worst of it. “He failed the sobriety test, I take it?”
“Fucker. I did not.” Jimmy thrashed against the hood of the car, working up a good lather. I let Holmes put a knee in his back, get him under control.
“Oh, yeah,” she said to me over her shoulder. “But not before he got into a fistfight with his girlfriend in the front seat and—”
“She started it. She hit me! Just because you pulled me over. All I was trying to do was take Francine’s stupid ass back to Coos Bay. Nothing illegal.”
“And you hit back,” Holmes said calmly, leading him to the cruiser. Jimmy sported the beginnings of what looked to be a hell of a shiner and had scratch marks all down one cheek. “Girlfriend’s still in the car. With the kid.”
With the kid. My insides dropped all the way down to the gravel shoulder. This wasn’t just bad; this was a disaster. A disaster I was going to have to tread around very, very carefully.
Holmes got Jimmy into the back of the cruiser, door still open, as she said to me, voice lowered, “Between this and the shooting, we’re not letting you recover from your Portland trip well, are we? But one of us is going to have to deal with CPS.”
“What the fuck?” Jimmy made a wounded animal noise. Apparently Holmes hadn’t been quiet enough for his ears. “You were up in Portland? Rumors are true, aren’t they? I’ve heard about you cozying up to Mason. You’re fucking my brother, aren’t you, you sick fuck?”
“It’s beyond time for you to get quiet.” Holmes slammed the door as Jimmy continued his increasingly creative uses of the word fuck.
“Sorry,” she said to me. “That’s a new low from him, and that’s saying something. Can I put the girlfriend in the Jeep after I arrest her? I don’t think we want her and Jimmy in the same car right now.”
“Of course,” I said on autopilot, head still swimming. Jimmy knew. Suddenly I’d gone from needing to tread carefully to swimming in shark-infested waters. Holmes was acting like Jimmy was talking trash, which he was, but it wouldn’t be long before her wheels started turning, too.
Holmes got Francine out of the car. She had a slap mark on her face and was as mad as a wet cat. I’d never much cared for the woman, and she proved my dislike more than valid as she spat on the gravel. “It’s tr
ue, isn’t it? Jimmy told me them rumors about Mason. I said no way was you all friends. But you fucking around with Mason? I know my rights—that’s a conflict of interest right there. You can’t arrest us.”
“I’m arresting you,” Holmes corrected her. “And you watch your mouth. Now, you have the right to remain silent…” She went into the whole spiel as she cuffed Francine.
A soft sobbing came from the backseat of Jimmy’s car. The kid. I knelt beside the door. This wasn’t the first time I’d been in a situation like this, but every time I had to deal with a child I was extra cautious. I wasn’t great with kids, and I was very aware that sometimes the sight of a uniform could make children skittish. “Hi, there.” I tried to remember her name. I’d heard Mason use it often enough. “Lila—Lilac, right?”
“Uh-huh.” She gave a big sniffle. “Mama hit Daddy.”
“Was that scary?”
“Uh-huh.” Another big gulp. “Can you call Uncle Mason? He’ll know what to do.”
The sharks swimming through my life took a big bite out of my ass—and my heart. I was about to hurt the person I cared most about. Calling Mason was the one thing I could not do, especially not with Jimmy and Francine spouting their venom. I was going to have to do everything by the book, line by line. And that meant a call to the county CPS, getting them involved, especially since this wouldn’t be the first report for Jimmy and Francine. Child endangerment had happened here, and I couldn’t just sweep it under the rug.
I wasn’t going to have to worry any more about Mason and his request to talk—he was going to skin me alive when he found out about this.
“It’s all going to be okay,” I said lamely to the kid, wishing like heck I could do more, could promise her that I’d get Mason.
Trust with a Chaser (Rainbow Cove Book 1) Page 18
