Marked Men: Nash Part 20

I was talking about more than Nash and I think on a level that only a mother and a woman hurt by a man she loved could understand. She understood what I was saying without words.

"Saint, hurting is how you know it's real. If he didn't matter, if he was just some guy, even back then it wouldn't have lasted with you the way it has. You can't run from feeling things, even if some of those things are awful, because love opens you up to experiencing emotions you haven't ever felt before."

"He's the only one who has ever made me feel anything like this." He was also the only one that made me feel desire, hope, and gut-wrenching sorrow while I watched him grapple with the truth about his dad and Phil's subsequent illness.

"What is it that you think you deserve, honey? If it isn't this guy, what he has to offer, then what is it?"

"I have a great job that I love and work hard at. I care a lot about other people and I deserve someone who appreciates all of that."

"This tattoo guy doesn't?"

I pouted like a little kid. "No, he does, a lot actually. Those are some of his favorite qualities in me. He told me I deserve the best because of the lengths I go to for others."

"What else?"

"What do you mean, 'what else'?"

She gave me a hard look and leaned over so she could grab my face. She squished my pout together so hard I'm sure I looked like a duck.

"You are stunningly beautiful, you are desirable and vibrant, and you always have been. You deserve someone who wors.h.i.+ps you, who looks at you and knows no one is more perfect than you."

Now there was no holding back the tears. My mom and I weren't exactly ever on the same page about things, but hearing her say those words to me broke something free that had been lodged in my subconscious my entire life. I rubbed my hands roughly over my cheeks and blinked away the moisture clinging to my lashes.

"He tells me I'm perfect all the time."

"Are you in love with him?"

I nodded sadly. "I don't want to be, but I couldn't stop it from happening."

"Because it was meant to be."

I choked on a laugh and picked up my coffee. "Who are you and what did you do with my mom?"

She reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "You came home to try and pull me out of my funk. You never gave up on me when I was terrible to you and your sister. You came and got me out of jail and never stopped loving me. Even with all the turmoil your father dropped on us, you never stopped caring about him. I want what's best for you, and while I would prefer a doctor to a tattoo artist, any man that can shake you up, get you out of that boring, secure little bubble you always live in, is welcome in my book. Now go get dressed and let's go shopping like normal people do when their hearts are hurting."

I didn't want to go shopping, or go to the country club for lunch. I didn't want to go to a wine tasting that night or to the tapas restaurant with my mom and all her single friends the next night. By the end of day three, I was ready to pull out my hair. I was bored, missed my sister and my job, and had learned way too much about my mom's new s.e.x life. Mostly, all I wanted was to get back to the mountains and, in all honesty, get back to Nash.

On the fourth day I broke down and sent him a text. All I could think to say was: I'm so sorry. We need to talk.

When he didn't answer me back the rest of the day, I decided enough was enough. If I was the hurdle that I needed to get over in order to have him, then the only way to do it was just get over it. I was still scared, still worried about being enough, about being able to give back everything he seemed so willing to lay at my feet, but going home and confronting him, and the person he saw when he looked at me, was the first step. All people deserved love and kindness. Seeing that young girl take her own life drove that point home more clearly than anything else could have. I needed to take what Nash was showing me at face value. No one was ever going to love me better than he did.

I was only two hours into the twelve-hour return trip when I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize that came from a 303 area code. Figuring it was work or work related, I answered.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Saint." It took me a second to recognize Royal's voice. "Where are you?"

"Just outside of Phoenix headed home. Why? How did you get this number?"

"I know I'm the last person you want to hear from now, but the faster you can get here the better. And I'm a cop, how do you think I got your number?"

She was talking fast and an uneasy s.h.i.+ver slid down my spine.

"What's going on?"

She sighed. "You were a real b.i.t.c.h, you know that? I don't typically tell people about my circ.u.mstances, about the deal with my mom and the stockbroker, but I thought since you were touchy about being judged, you would get it. That was really mean what you said to me."

h.e.l.lo, life lesson right in my face. I had practically called her a wh.o.r.e, told her she was no better than her mother. I didn't really mean it, didn't know her well enough to make that kind of judgment call. I had just been spouting off like a stupid idiot because I was hurt and mad. Any lingering remains of trying to use what Nash had said in the past against him turned to ash. I couldn't blame him anymore when I was guilty of doing the exact same thing. Luckily, unlike I had been, Royal seemed willing to accept an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry. That was a hard scene to walk in on. I jumped to conclusions without listening to explanations."

"Well, it did look bad. I made a bunch of extra keys and now half of Denver is on call to let me in my apartment should I lock myself out again, but anyway, you need to get your cute little b.u.t.t back here. Phil took a drastic turn for the worse. The mouthy little blonde with the baby was getting a bunch of stuff for Nash since he hasn't left Phil's bedside since you left. It doesn't look very good. You don't want your man to have to go through that alone. He needs you."

I think what I was supposed to take away from this entire nightmare was not to pay attention to what words were said no matter how ugly, or to what I was seeing no matter how bad it looked. I had to have faith in the people involved-myself included. Mistakes were going to be made; that didn't mean I had to forsake my life and my happiness because of them, not when Nash had shown me time and time again he was worth working through the pain and confusion for.

"I won't be back in Denver until late tonight."

She made a noise in her throat. "I hope Nash's dad lasts that long."

I did, too. "Thank you for letting me know."

"I told you I wanted us to be friends."

"I think I'm finally ready to believe you. I'm a neurotic weirdo, though. I don't know how great a friend that will make me."

She laughed a little even though she still sounded kind of sad. "We all have things, Saint. Things we struggle with, things that make it hard for us to see ourselves how others view us. Sharing those things is the only way to get past them."

I didn't tell her that I had just recently figured that out. If I didn't get back to Denver in time, that was just one more thing I was going to have to overcome. I would never forgive myself if Nash had to face Phil pa.s.sing away without me. Sure, he had a mult.i.tude of friends, people that loved him unconditionally, to help him handle his grief, but like Royal said, he needed me. No one else would do, and that's how I knew loving him back, giving him all he gave me wasn't going to be a problem because I needed him and only him in the exact same way.

CHAPTER 17.

Nash

Royal was overly apologetic when I came back in the apartment. I waved her off and went to get dressed. Like I said, I knew this s.h.i.+t didn't look good, but it kicked me in the b.a.l.l.s that Saint wouldn't take a breath, talk to me about it. She just automatically a.s.sumed the worst of the situation and of me, and that just sucked. I really did love her, wanted this to be a real thing, a thing I was going to have to hold on to while everything else in my life spiraled out of control. Her taking that away broke my heart, but more than anything, it made me choke on disappointment.

I got dressed, waited for the locksmith to come and let my neighbor back in her apartment-again-and headed back over to Phil's. It was like his life was grains of sand in an hourgla.s.s and the sand was suddenly flowing much more rapidly, and I could see it. So on top of feeling like Saint had leveled me, I felt like Phil was leaving me hanging as well. I knew it wasn't rational, but it was how I felt all the same.

While I sat at his bedside I struggled with the need to text her, to try and throw explanation after explanation on her, to beg her for a shot and not to give up on what we were building, to tell her how much I needed her, that I couldn't do this, watch Phil fade away without her. I refrained. I couldn't do it. I loved her, but I loved me, too, and I couldn't be with someone who didn't appreciate that because they didn't appreciate themself. It hurt, but it was as real as I could see things.

A couple of days after the big scene, I was surprised when she reached out with her simple message. I didn't know what she was sorry for. Maybe for ripping my heart to shreds by dismissing my feelings, for jumping to conclusions, for running away from me for the second time in our history without letting me explain, for not believing in me, in us-for all of it? I didn't know what to say back to her and Phil was starting to slip in and out of lucidity, so I didn't want to dedicate any time to trying to mend that particular fence. Not when she had yanked it out by the posts.

One minute Phil knew he was in Denver and who I was, the next he was back in the navy, or on the East Coast reliving his wild party days. I tried to keep him comfortable, had nurses at his place almost around the clock, but the cancer was obviously progressing, moving into his most vital organs. Time was slipping away. I hadn't been at work all week, luckily I had not only the best friends, but the best coworkers in the world and they were carrying on and picking up the slack I left behind. I knew they were all worried about me, sad about what was happening with Phil, but right now we needed this time between the two of us and I think they all respected that.

I was sitting in the trusty recliner staring at SportsCenter mindlessly when Phil reached a shaky hand out and put it on my arm. I muted the TV and looked down at him. His eyes-my eyes-were rheumy and tinted with a hint of yellow, but they were locked on me intently.

"Do something for me, son."

I felt my breath shudder and my lungs clamped closed painfully. This was the hardest thing I had ever had to go through in my life, including when I had put one of my closest friends in the ground way too young.

"Sure, Phil. Anything you need me to do."

His fingers curled into the muscle of my arm and I saw him struggle to smile at me behind his oxygen mask.

"I had a good life, ya know?" He moved his head in what I think was supposed to be a nod. "I traveled the world, saw amazing things. I started a successful business on my own terms and never had to answer to a boss. I fell in and out of love a hundred times. I helped make a wonderful group of kids their own family, and I had you. I have zero regrets and it is my greatest hope you live your life the same way."

He sounded winded. I could hear how hard it was for him to get the words out. I blew out a breath and forced a smile.

"Well, I've only been in love once, and it didn't work out so great, but the rest I can sure try my hardest to live up to."

"The nurse?"

"The nurse," I confirmed.

"Don't give up just yet, Nash. If she matters, if you want her for yours, don't give up."

"What if she gave up on me?"

"Then you love her hard enough that she can't help but come around. Part of me always wonders if I gave up too easy on your mom."

Ugh. She was the last person I wanted in this room. My mom had no place here.

"Maybe. That's what you want me to do, live life with no regret?"

His eyes drifted closed and his grip loosened on my arm. My heart started thudding. Every time his eyes closed, I wondered if they would ever open again.

"I want you to call me Dad. I never got that, never was brave enough to ask, but I want you to think of me as your dad. That's all I want."

f.u.c.k me. I couldn't think, couldn't get my heart rate under control. I needed a carton of cigarettes and a handle of cheap tequila to get through this. I wanted to get up and go outside for a few minutes and pull my s.h.i.+t together, but that wasn't time I would get back with him.

"Phil ... Dad. Jesus, you were the one that raised me. All Mom and that a.s.shole did was try and beat me down, try and shove me in a box that was too small. You're the only parent I've ever known, and it doesn't matter what I called you."

"But 'Dad' sounds nice. It was the only thing I ever really wanted from you."

His choppy breathing evened out some and I noticed his mouth go a little slack under his mask. His chest was still rising and falling, so I a.s.sumed he'd just drifted off, and flopped back in the chair. This was brutal. I didn't know how I was going to come out on the other side of it not fundamentally changed.

I got up and went to the kitchen to see if I could find a beer or something stronger. I was leaning on the counter, had my head hung down, I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or break everything I could get my hands on. This was too much emotion, too many feelings for one person to try and work through. They were getting all tangled up, too engulfing, and I felt like I was going to suffocate on all of them.

I don't know how long I stood like that, how long I just had to tell myself to keep breathing. At some point there was a knock on the door, and I realized it was really late and I had been zoned out for a long time.

It was around midnight, no one should be here, but my friends didn't really play by common rules and Rule had a sixth sense when stuff was going down with me, so I wouldn't be surprised at all if he was doing a spot check. I rolled my neck around on stiff shoulders until there was a nasty-sounding crack and wandered over to the front door. I pulled it open without a second thought and almost fell on my a.s.s when a soft body launched into mine as soon as there was enough room for her to fit through.

My arms closed reflexively around her tiny waist as hers went up around my neck. She buried her nose in my throat and her endless waves of red hair curled all around my arms and hands. I felt moisture on her face as she rubbed her cheek against the edge of my rough jaw. She didn't say anything, just held me tight and cried, for me, for her, for us, and I just stood there dumbfounded and unsure. I knew one thing: if she tried to walk away again I wasn't going to just let her go. I would love her too hard, hold on too tight ... just like Phil said.

"Saint?"

Her arms squeezed even tighter around my neck and she pulled back so we were eye to eye. That gray was glittering silver and clear through the sheen of tears. She was the prettiest and most welcome thing I had ever seen.

"Nash, oh my G.o.d ..." She bit her lip and grabbed my face. "I'm so sorry."

I lifted an eyebrow and reached up to circle my fingers around her delicate wrists.

"I know, I got your text. I just don't know what you're sorry for."

She blinked at me and I saw her struggle to put her thoughts in line. She was cute when she was awkward.

"Mostly I'm sorry for not having faith in you, and in myself. I really do love myself, Nash. I think it took looking at a life lived alone and in fear to realize that. I think maybe you kicked the door open and I couldn't hide from it anymore. I have a lot to offer and I totally deserve the best kind of love. I deserve your love."

All those pieces of my heart that I thought she took with her, she reached in and put back in a better, more resilient way.

"You deserve anything and everything you ever wanted, Saint."

She smiled at me but it was shy and kind of nervous. "The thing I've wanted the longest besides getting to be a nurse ... is you. I am so f.u.c.king in love with you right back, Nash Donovan."

I scooped her up in a rib-crus.h.i.+ng hug that made her squeak. I kissed her so hard that I'm surprised it didn't hurt one of us. When I put her down I dragged her inside the house and shut the door.

"What are you doing here, though?" I didn't know why she was at my dad's so late. Not that I wasn't relieved to see her. Just by being her, she made some of the stuff I was drowning in feel less oppressive.

"I went to Phoenix to see my mom. I was hurt and acting like a panicked schoolgirl. I wasn't thinking, wasn't listening, and I thought the s.p.a.ce would help. We had a heart-to-heart, Mom and me, and I realized that I can't keep looking at myself through any eyes but my own. We all make mistakes, say hurtful things off the cuff, but that doesn't define who we are. I was coming home when Royal called me. She ran into Cora and heard Phil wasn't doing very well. I broke every speed limit that exists between New Mexico and here. I would never have forgiven myself if you had to do this alone."

G.o.d, I just loved her.

"I need you." My voice cracked when I said it, and the feelings I was treading through just to keep my head above them started to rise up again.

"I know you do, and I need to be here for you. That's how love works." She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. "How is he?"

I shook my head and let it fall forward. She curled a hand around the back of my neck and brushed a kiss across the stubbly ridge of my cheek.

"Getting worse by the day. I haven't left his side very much. He drifts in and out, forgets where he is, what time in his life it is. The nurses seem to think it's only a matter of days, if not hours."

She pulled me closer and I let myself sort of fold into her embrace. Her hair was so soft and she smelled like spring and suns.h.i.+ne even though it was the middle of the night.

"I'm sorry. This has to be awful. Can I do anything for you?"

I kissed her behind the ear and felt her s.h.i.+ver against me. "This is it. Unless you want to relent and go get me a pack of smokes and some booze."

She pulled back and gave me a scowl. I grinned at her.