Nash: A Rough Romance Page 15
“Interesting. I would have thought guns and maybe archery bows.”
“You’re making fun of me now? God. Why am I bothering to get to know you?” While I attempted to walk away, I knew the second he was going to snag my arm, dragging me back. As usual, I jerked my arm in some crazy attempt to get away, but his fingers dug into me, his hold far too tight.
“I would never make fun of you, Mitch. We all have dreams and wishes, especially when we’re younger.”
“Yeah? What the hell was yours? Killing people?” The horrible words left my mouth before I could stop them.
He let me go, shifting a few inches away. “Yep. That’s the kind of man I am. A monster. A killer.”
“That’s what you told me when I met you.”
“Yeah, I did.”
Why was it so damn difficult between us? Why did I want to lash out at him? I couldn’t answer the questions. The awkward silence was exactly as it had been before. Wretched. I bit my lip, watching the horses playing and wondering what he was thinking. “I like Nash.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your real name. I might not be the best judge of characters but you’re not a killer. Maybe that’s what you had to do in your life in order to protect our country, but you’re not that man.”
He snorted, the sound similar to the one the black horse had made. I almost laughed at the comparison.
“Then what kind of a man am I, Mitch? Why don’t you tell me? Am I a lover or a fighter? Am I a good man or a bastard? Maybe you think I’m just pretending to be a brutal asshole who has no trouble killing people. If you think that, then you’re damn wrong.”
The chip on his shoulder was the size of a freaking building. I chewed on my bottom lip before answering, trying to rein in the bitchy side of Michelle. “You did what you had to do because that’s what you were trained to do, but I don’t think you enjoyed it, at least most of the time. I think you wanted nothing more than to honor the men and women you’d promised to keep safe as well as protecting whatever innocent people who were stuck in the middle of a war that shouldn’t be happening. I think you left Montana thinking you’d never return because it held nothing for you but bad memories and a dead end. I also think that the longer you were overseas, the more you missed where you grew up. Now? I think you’re floundering because you want to do so much to protect those around you, even though you can’t do it in the same way you did as a Marine. That’s what I think.”
I huffed after issuing the words, another shiver darting down my spine. I was certain he was preparing to bark at me for my impetuous words.
“Okay. I think you’re a girl that grew up longing to be someone you weren’t. Even though your parents adored you, showering you with everything they could for their perfect little princess, you wanted more. The way you talk about reality is because life was slammed in your face during a difficult transitional time in your life. You refused to acknowledge you couldn’t do everything you’d set your mind to until a criminal derailed your life. Only then did you begin to understand just how precious life truly was.”
His words stung more than I cared to admit.
And they were true.
Another even more heightened level of tension settled between us. I realized I was fighting tears that threatened to give away he’d gotten too damn close. God, how I wanted to hate him. No man had ever said those kinds of things to me. I was forced to realize because I’d never allowed any man to get close to me on any level.
Until Dante.
I was an idiot to think this would be any different, although Reaper wasn’t a bastard. Not really. I choked back the tears and turned away again. This time, he didn’t fight me. I took four steps before stopping. “I’d like to go on that ride, although I’ve never actually been on a horse.”
“The first step is all about whether the beautiful baby can tolerate the rider. It would seem horses adore you.” He hesitated, a slight laugh pushing past those damn gorgeous lips of his. “I’d love to take a ride with you.”
Had we reached a crossroads or was this just another path into quicksand? I wasn’t certain I wanted to try to determine which.
“And for the record, Mitch. You’re right.”
His words were more cathartic than he could know.
As I walked back to the house, I hated the fact my heart continued to ache.
For him.
For the brutal, rugged asshole.
For the man I could…
Nope. I wasn’t going to think that way. He would disappear out of my life soon enough.
Maybe I should say good riddance.
Chapter 11
Mitch
Damn him.
Reaper.
I said his name over several times in my mind.
“Reaper.”
Then for some crazy reason I whispered it, although I did like Nash better.
Dangerous.
Rugged.
A killer.
I refused to buy the last thought, no matter what he’d tried to make me believe. He wasn’t that kind of man.
The burly men had left me all alone in a city I didn’t know, a cabin that wasn’t my own. I watched them drive away, the massive Dodge Ram’s engine still rumbling in my stomach. As I moved away from the window, I took a deep breath before checking the lock on the door. I was suddenly so cold, my lower lip quivering.
Folding my arms, I walked toward the fire, shifting from foot to foot as I stared at the flames. A part of me knew I should have demanded to go with them. Another part wanted to hide from the world. The latter had won out at least for the time being. They could play big he-man protectors, saving me from the big bad wolf all they wanted to. I wasn’t going to object.
At least for now.
A laugh rumbled in my chest, but I sucked it down. I shouldn’t adore the man, but I did. I couldn’t deny it. As far as what it meant? Nothing. I had a life in Chicago and his life was here.
The same chill as before continued to press against me, a hard knot in my stomach. I couldn’t do nothing. That wasn’t in my nature. I turned and glanced down at the phone on the table. For emergencies only.
At least that’s what I’d been instructed.
But everything at this point was actually an emergency, including protecting people I cared about. I hissed, turning away then shifting toward the coffee table, glaring down at the phone. What if the asshole had gotten to Jessica? What if her life could be saved by a single phone call?
She’d been such a good friend, treating me as if we’d been buddies for years instead of the few weeks I’d lived in Chicago.
Before all hell had broken loose.
Swallowing hard, I picked up the phone, my foggy brain trying to remember her number. I’d known it by heart. Right now, everything seemed muddled, my world turned upside down. After taking a few deep breaths, trying to push away the recent events, I remembered her number.
And I dialed it.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
“Hello?” The voice was tentative if not laced with fear.
“Jessica.”
“Oh, God. You’re alive,” Jessica said in a whispered voice.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?”
When she hesitated, I cringed deep inside. I had placed her life in danger.
“I’m… fine. It’s just been hard.” Her words were stilted, completely unlike her.
“What aren’t you telling me?” The urgency in my voice was undeniable.
Her laugh was haunted, practiced. “Stop worrying about me. You need to take care of yourself. I hope you’re far, far away.”
“I’m…” No, I wasn’t going to say the location over the phone. “Let’s just say I’m being protected. What about you? Have you been approached by Dante?”
The silence was deafening.
“Tell me. What the fuck did that asshole do?”
“It wasn’t him. Okay?”
“Then who the fuck was it? W
hat happened?” I demanded, my breath skipping all over the place.
“It’s okay. Dante sent a couple of his men.”
Oh, God. Oh… I bit back a strangled cry. “Are you really all right?”
“They didn’t hurt me. They just… threatened me.”
She wasn’t telling me everything. “Threatened you? What did they say?”
“They tried to find you, Mitch. They searched my apartment, tossing everything.” Her laugh was almost maniacal. “Don’t worry. I lied and told them nothing.”
Lied? She had no idea where I was going. I’d purposely kept the information from her. “What did you tell them, Jess? I need to know!”
“Just that you’d left town and they’d never be able to find you.”
The words likely told them I’d gone far away from Chicago. I curtailed my nerves and my increasing anger. She certainly shouldn’t have to face any additional strife because of my poor choices. “What else did you tell them?”
“Nothing. What could I tell them?” Her insistence sounded far too convenient. Christ. What was I doing? Trying to convince myself that everyone in my life had betrayed me?
“But they left you alone?”
“Yes,” she murmured, although the single word did little to convince me.
“Maybe you need to get out of town for a little while. Don’t you have an aunt who lives in Indiana?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then maybe you should go there,” I suggested, although I had a feeling that she wasn’t going to follow my advice.
She issued a series of exaggerated breaths before answering, “Maybe I will.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. I really am.”
“I know you are and it’s not your fault. Just… Just don’t call me again. Okay?”
The words hurt more than I cared to admit, although she was right. I shouldn’t have called her in the first place. “I won’t. At least not until Dante is arrested and sent to prison for a long time.”
“As if that’s going to happen,” Jessica snorted.
Everything about her words was entirely out of character. I shuddered deep inside, a single tear sliding down my face. “You’re such a good friend, Jess. Thank you. Just be safe.”
“You too.”
I wasn’t shocked she ended the call; I was just saddened that I’d lost so much. My legs felt like jelly, forcing me to drop to the couch. I held the phone in my hands, fingering the screen. She’d been my last lifeline to my past. Would I ever see Chicago again? Would I ever walk the streets, enjoying the vibrancy of the city? While that remained to be seen, I had my doubts.
Even the nagging inner voice was suddenly quiet.
I closed my eyes, continuing to shake. What a horrible situation to be in.
When I heard a rumble of an engine outside, I tensed, sucking in a cry of anguish. It was far too soon for Reaper and Scorpion to have returned. Who the hell was outside? While I remained shaky, I moved quickly into the kitchen, yanking out drawer after drawer until I found what I was looking for.
A butcher knife.
At least I’d have some form of protection against the asshole who’d stopped by.
In my mind, I envisioned Dante’s face, his sly smirk as he studied me, and I could still hear his last words.
“You are mine.”
I shifted toward the kitchen door, able to hear that whoever had driven up intended on staying, the engine cutting. While I knew I was a fool, I walked toward the front door, unable to hear if anyone had approached. Very slowly I moved toward the front window, slyly attempting to peer through the blinds. There was no one there.
Fucking fantastic. They were casing the house, likely realizing that the truck remaining out front with the big blue tarp over the windshield was the one they were looking for.
No. No!
The words almost left my throat. I inched closer to the door, unable to stop a single yelp as someone jiggled the door. Then a key or some implement in an attempt to break in was shoved into the lock.
Fuck. Fuck!
I took a step back, lifting the knife, my breath skipping. As the door opened, I firmed up my grip on the knife.
“No!”
As my arm dropped, I realized almost too late that the person standing in front of me wasn’t some monster.
The intruder was a woman, one with eyes wide open in horror.
Jerking back, I blinked several times.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, her gaze suddenly turning entirely different. “And where’s Scorpion?”
“He’s…”
She darted her glance toward the knife then backed away a few feet, her mouth twisting. “I don’t know what the fuck this is, but you don’t belong here. I’m his fiancée.”
I wanted to laugh at her words, but I could tell how distraught she was. “That’s not what this is.”
“Uh-huh. Then why don’t you tell me what the fuck it is? Or would you prefer I grab my Colt revolver from the truck. We can settle it, although bringing a knife to a gunfight isn’t in your best interest.”
I glared at the knife in my hand then lowered it. I’d never felt so damn awkward. I stuck out my other hand, trying to offer a ridiculous, loopy kind of smile. “I’m Mitch. Mitch Donovan.” As if introducing myself made the situation any better.
“You are not going to take anything from me.”
“Uh, no. I’m with Reaper.” With? What the fuck was I saying?
“Reaper?” A smile crossed her face, her eyes opening even wider. “When did he get into town? We’ve been expecting him. Well, his friends have. He’s never actually met me.”
I was befuddled by her now happy and animated expression. I’d just almost killed her, for God’s sake. “Um. Last night.”
“No wonder Coop didn’t call me. I was worried.”
“Coop?”
She laughed then extended her arm. “I’m Caroline Walker, Cooper’s fiancée. Well, I hope I’ll be his fiancée anyway. The name Scorpion is from his time in the Marines.”
I cautiously shook her hand, glancing over her shoulder into the front yard, half expecting to see at least two other vehicles pulling up, men with guns rushing toward the cabin. “Do they all have nicknames?”
“Yes, they do.” Caroline removed her hand, shoving both into her pockets. “Now, forgive me for sounding rude, but who are you?”
I felt a sigh of relief coming on. Taking a couple of steps back, I opened the door wider. “That will take more than just a few seconds. Come in. I don’t belong here.”
I didn’t bother waiting to close the door behind her. Her heated gaze followed me as I moved toward the fire, the sound of the latch engaging forcing me to jump.
“Mitch. That’s a guy’s name.”
I almost laughed at her words. How many times had I explained the reason why? “Short for Michelle.”
“Well, Mitch, short for Michelle. I know you have a story. We all do.”
There was a lilt in her voice that intrigued me. “All?”
Her smile was genuine as she walked closer. “Heroes. Monsters. Sinner and saints. You haven’t heard that yet?”
I shook my head. “No. Does it mean something?”
“You haven’t been with Reaper long. Have you?”
A smile crept across my face. “I’m actually not with him.”
“But I thought you said…” Caroline shifted her gaze around the room, another round of apprehension settling in.
“Not exactly.”
“Girl. That’s what I said the first two times I met Cooper. I mean Scorpion. I’m not certain he’d like me telling you his real name.”
I found myself relaxing around her, as if we’d been friends for a very long time. “Okay. Reaper doesn’t like the name Nash. There has to be a reason.”
A smile curled on the side of her mouth. “That’s what I mean. I didn’t know Reaper’s name was Nash. All five of them have nicknames. That’s pretty much all I’ve ever heard.”
/> “Why?” Now I was genuinely curious.
She did another glance around the room. Maybe she was looking to see if I’d broken into Scorpion’s house. That would make sense after what I’d put her through.
“What they had to go through together changed them. They lost someone who was dear to all of them.” She finally turned toward me, lifting a single eyebrow. “But you should know that, unless Reaper doesn’t trust you.”
“He has no reason to trust me. And if you want to know why, it’s because I broke into a part of his house in the mountains and almost shot him.”
Caroline’s mouth twisted before breaking into nervous laughter. After a few seconds, her entire face sagged. “Well, if that’s the case then I think we might need a drink, even this early in the morning. Why don’t you follow me to the kitchen? I’ll see if I can wrangle up a Bloody Mary or maybe a mimosa. I think both of us might need it.”
Reaper
“You like her,” Scorpion said in his usual assertive manner, a grin slicing across his face.
“Can’t stand her.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you couldn’t stop looking at her earlier, buddy.”
“I couldn’t stop looking at her because you never know when she’s going to strike.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “That’s the way it starts.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that the only women who can tolerate us have a mind and a will of their own. It also means that when you fall, you fall like a freaking ton of bricks slamming against a sidewalk.”
While Scorpion’s words actually made me chuckle, I knew there was some truth to them. Why? Because that’s the damn way I felt.
And I hated it.
Not because of the woman but because there was no way we could share a life together.
“Who is she?” I finally asked.
“Caroline Walker. One feisty, opinionated country girl from Nashville who appeared at Raunchy Ride.”
“So, you did take over your uncle’s bar.”
“It’s not just a bar, my friend. It’s a destination.”
“You love her?” It was none of my business, but I wanted to know. As if I would ever fall in love with a pigheaded northern chick.