Before I Die

by Nikki Ash

  “I already told you, you can leave any time you want. No, I didn’t get anything figured out. I have no idea what Logan’s been up to, and it’s going to take time to get it all sorted. If you leave, you’re on your own to deal with him and whoever the hell he’s trying to sell you to.”

  “Can’t you like put a hit out on him?”

  The fuck?

  “You want me to kill him? I’m a club owner, not some mafia boss.”

  Her eyes go wide, and I chuckle.

  “What?” she screeches, and because it’s too early for all this, I roll back over, covering myself with a blanket. “No! I thought it meant call someone, like to get information. I heard it on a show once. I thought he was hiring someone to find stuff out.”

  “It’s too early for all this. Wake me up in a few hours.”

  It’s quiet for a moment, and I think she might’ve left, until I feel her tap on my back.

  “Nevaeh, I’m tired. I run a club.” And with my dad being out of town, doing whatever the hell he’s doing, I’m running all his shit too.

  “You didn’t run a club last night, and I need answers.”

  The bed dips next to me, and impulsively I roll over, regretting it immediately. Nevaeh is sitting on the edge of my bed, her right leg propped up showing me way too much skin, with those perky tits in touching distance. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my lips around one of her pert nipples…

  “Angel, a man only has so much self-control.”

  “I need answers,” she repeats, standing her ground. I’m not sure what happened between the night at the club, to when I found her in Logan’s office, but this woman has grown herself a pair of balls.

  “What happened to the shy woman from the club?” I sit up, propping my pillows behind my head.

  “I’m done living my life like that. This is the new me.” She juts her chin out and fuck if it isn’t adorable.

  “Oh yeah, you’re going rogue?” I chuckle, earning me a glare.

  “I’m not going rogue. I’m just not going to live my life afraid anymore.”

  Hmm, interesting.

  I sit up a little more and, grabbing her ass, pull her toward me so we’re only inches apart. “So, you aren’t afraid of me?”

  “I figured if you were going to kill me you would have already done it.” She shrugs. Fucking shrugs.

  “There’s still time,” I deadpan, and she blanches. I laugh, and she grabs my pillow behind my head, throwing it right at my face.

  “Keep it up and I’m going to sell your ass.” It’s meant as a joke, but the look on her face tells me no matter how strong she’s trying to be, she’s still scared.

  “Do you really think he’ll try to sell me?” she whispers, and Jesus, if the tremble in her voice doesn’t tug at my heartstrings.

  The words come out before I realize what I’m saying. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  “Why would you promise that? You don’t even know me. Why would you help me?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  “Were you there when my brother was killed?” she asks quietly, clearly not realizing I was the man standing outside as she fell out of the window and ran.

  Her grief-stricken eyes lock with mine, waiting for an answer, and for the first time in a long ass time, my heart hurts for someone else. I’ve spent so many years keeping it on lock, but this woman brings something out in me, emotions I can’t explain.

  “I was outside when it happened, but that doesn’t mean I’m not just as guilty. I’m not a good guy, and it’s best you remember that.”

  “Did Logan kill him?”

  When I don’t say anything right away, she adds, “He said he did. And he said the only reason he wasn’t raping and killing me was because I was a virgin and he could make a lot of money by selling me.”

  Of course he did. Because he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. I never should’ve told Nevaeh’s business to him, but I didn’t think I would ever see her again.

  “I just… I need to know for sure if he’s dead,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “I saw him on the floor. He was bleeding out. But when I tried to tell the police, nobody believed me.”

  I should probably lie to her to cover my ass, but for some reason, I can’t do it. “Logan and your brother had a falling out. I told him to talk to him, get it sorted, but he didn’t listen.”

  “So, Stephen really was a corrupt cop?” she asks, her bottom lip wobbling.

  Knowing it won’t do her any good to know just how corrupt her brother was, I downplay it. He isn’t alive to defend himself or explain, and Nevaeh learning all the shit her brother did will only hurt her. Fuck! When did I grow a damn pussy?

  “He had some issues with gambling and was in over his head. He owed a lot of people a lot of money and was making threats to the wrong people. To be honest, I didn’t really know him. I’m sorry for your loss.” And I mean that. I would never wish death on her brother. I wanted my money, to get him to stop with the threats and blackmail, but I didn’t want him dead. And the fact Logan killed him so quickly has me wondering if Logan told me the entire story. And now, finding out he’s in cahoots with some sex trafficker… I’m thinking there’s more to this story.

  Nevaeh nods slowly, and several tears fall down her cheeks. My fingers itch to stop them in their tracks, to wipe them away, but I don’t.

  “The cops are acting like he wasn’t killed, and they made me feel like I was losing it. My parents don’t even know he’s dead, and I imagine there can’t be a funeral until he’s found. Everyone just thinks he took off on vacation.”

  “He won’t be found, Angel,” I say. “And the cop you spoke to… He’s on my payroll.” The minute they showed up at Stephen’s apartment and saw it was wiped clean, I got a phone call. I didn’t have to say anything more than he’s on an extended vacation for him to know what I meant.

  Nevaeh nods again in understanding. We sit here for a moment, neither of us saying anything, before she speaks again. “I want to give him a funeral. My parents are going to need closure.” She hits me with her watery eyes. “I need closure.”

  “Let me first figure out what Logan is up to, and then once you’re safe, you can do that. Everyone thinks he’s on vacation.”

  “Okay,” she whispers, more tears streaming down her face.

  “I’m really sorry, Angel. I’m not a good guy, but I never intended for your brother to be killed. I don’t know what the hell is going on with Logan, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” I’m shocked by the shit coming out of my mouth. I never apologize to anyone, but Nevaeh reminds me so much of someone I used to know. She’s so damn innocent and shouldn’t have been pulled into this world. But nonetheless she’s here and I’m going to make sure she makes it out alive and unharmed.

  “Why do you call me Angel?” she asks.

  “The night in the club you were wearing all white.”

  “Oh, I thought you were making fun of my name.”

  “Your name?”

  “Nevaeh…it’s heaven spelled backward.”

  It takes me a second as I spell her name backward in my head and then I’m laughing harder than I’ve laughed in a long time. What are the fucking odds? The woman who attacked me in my club was wearing all white, she’s a damn virgin who worships God, and her fucking name is heaven spelled backward. If there was ever a sign that I need to leave this woman alone, it’s her goddamned name.

  “What’s so funny?” Her nose scrunches up in annoyance.

  “Nothing.” I shake my head, still chuckling. “I wasn’t making fun of you when I called you Angel. Honest.”

  “Okay.” She stands. “Well, if I’m going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I’m going to need some clothes. Can you take me to my apartment?”

  I pull the covers back and get out of bed. “I’ll go by your place and grab your clothes. It’s best for you to stay here. Logan wouldn’t think to look here
for you. My dad lives in New York, only visiting occasionally for business, and when he does, he usually stays at the hotel. And I have a townhouse in Margate City. He would look at those places first. My dad never liked Logan, so he was never invited out here to his beach house.”

  “I have a roommate…Blaire. She’s going to be worried. And I need to notify work. We went back to work today from spring break. I also need to call my dad to let him know I’m okay. I got into a fight with my mom yesterday and was supposed to go to their house to finish our conversation.”

  “I’ll grab your purse and cell phone,” I tell her, remembering I have both at my place.

  “Oh! You have them? I thought it was all destroyed. When the detective tried to track it, it came up untraceable.”

  “I turned it off. You can call whoever you want to check in, but you’re going to need to take some time off from work. Tell them you went on an impromptu vacation.”

  “I can’t afford to take time off work, and I’m going to be leaving my students and the principal hanging. I was planning to quit, but I was supposed to give my two weeks’ notice so they could find someone else and I could hopefully find a new job. Plus, I’ve never gone on vacation before. They’ll never believe that.”

  “If you’re taken by Logan, your job won’t matter anyway,” I say too harshly, but damn it, she just doesn’t understand what people in my world are capable of. “It doesn’t matter if they believe it. Just say it.”

  She sighs. “Okay.”

  “Why were you planning to quit your job?” I ask, curious.

  She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and chews on her fleshy lip for a few seconds, debating what to say. Then what she does say, shocks the hell out of me. “I’ve decided to change some aspects of my life. I’m done with the church and God and my mom for the foreseeable future. And since they all go hand in hand, I’ve decided it’s best to quit my job.”

  “You’re done with God and your mom?”

  She nods. “For now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve spent my entire life giving them everything, all of me, and in the end, all they gave me in return were lies and heartache. I’m going downstairs to make breakfast.” She turns and heads out the door, and once again, I watch her ass sway as she walks away. I make a mental note to make sure I grab lots of pants when I pick up her clothes.

  After showering and getting dressed, I head downstairs to find an omelet waiting for me. It’s delicious, and I devour it in four bites. It’s been over twelve years since a woman has cooked for me. I go in search of Nevaeh to thank her and let her know that I’m leaving—this entire situation is beginning to feel way too domestic for my liking. I quickly find her in the back of the house, lying out on a lounge chair by the pool. It’s a bit warmer today, and the sun is shining in the cloudless sky.

  “Thanks for the omelet. I need to get going. I’ll be back later.”

  She gives me a soft smile. “You’re welcome.”

  “If you want to go swimming, the pool is heated. My dad keeps an array of bathing suits in the guest bathroom. They’re all new.” I start to walk away, but she stops me in my tracks.

  “Wait! Do you have an iPad or Kindle I can borrow to read on?”

  “No, but when you walk past the dining room and make a left, two doors down you’ll find a library. It was my mom’s, so I’m sure there is a ton of romance crap in there.”

  Her smile widens. “Thank you.”

  “Yep,” is all I say before I leave, refusing to acknowledge what her smile does to me.

  After swinging by the club to check on shit and go through some applications and interviews with Erika—successfully hiring several new people—I go by my place to grab some clothes, as well as Nevaeh’s purse. Reaching into her purse, I pull her cell phone out and turn it on. It comes to life, but the battery indicates it’s just about dead. Before it dies, I go through the missed calls and texts that pop up. There’s a missed call from her mom, and one from Blaire, but no voicemails. Clicking into her messages, I find one from Blaire, mentioning that she’s staying with her boyfriend longer than she planned. The next one is asking why she’s not at work. Apparently Nevaeh’s mom called Blaire and told her Nevaeh never showed up for work, so now she’s worried. I shoot her back a text, giving her the excuse of taking a last minute vacation, like we discussed.

  The next set of texts are from Gerald, the asshole I met at the club.

  Gerald: I can’t believe you are with that guy.

  Gerald: I know you didn’t cheat on me. You’re too good for that.

  Gerald: Did you have sex with him?

  Gerald: I waited for you for two years and got nothing! Such a damn tease.

  The texts continue, getting angrier the longer she doesn’t respond, and something snaps in me, wanting to defend this woman. He thinks she’s a tease and a cheater because of me. I went off at the mouth that night not knowing she’s a virgin. I had no idea just how good of a person she is. I’m about to text him back, admitting I lied, when I see a text from him calling her a whore. My anger gets the best of me, and I shoot back a message telling him to go fuck himself then block his ass from her phone. What the hell was such a wholesome woman like Nevaeh doing with an asshole like that guy?

  I delete the entire conversation.

  There’s a few more texts from her mom and principal asking where she is and if she’s okay, but I ignore those. She can deal with them when I give her back her phone. I throw it back into her purse and head over to her apartment. It’s about fifteen minutes from my place, over in Pleasantville. I find her unit number and am about to break in when I remember I have her purse, which means I have her keys.

  Her home is small but homey. There are pictures of her and some woman scattered all over. It must be her friend and roommate, Blaire. When I open the first door, the room is neat, bed made, and there’s a cross hanging over the bed. This must be Nevaeh’s room. But just to be sure, I open the door to the other room. It’s messy, clothes littered all over the floor, and when I open the nightstand I find a vibrator and a box of condoms. Definitely not Nevaeh’s room.

  Closing the drawer, I go back to the first room and find a piece of luggage in her closet. I start pulling a few outfits off the hangers then head to her drawers to find her bras and underwear. I chuckle as I grab her underwear, noticing how sexy they are, very unlike my Angel. Shit. Did I just refer to her as mine? There are tons of cotton as well, but mostly lace and satin. Several sets of silks. When I reach into the back, thoroughly enjoying this more than I should be, I spot a bra and panty set that has my dick hardening. Sheer white lace bra with a matching G-string. This gives a whole new meaning to the word Angel. Throwing it into the luggage with all the rest, I imagine the cute pink her cheeks will turn when she puts it together that I saw all this.

  Just as I’m about to close the drawer, I spot a folded-up piece of paper in the back corner. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I set the luggage down so I can unfold the paper. It’s a list of some sort. I find myself smiling when I read the title: Things I want to do before I die

  Get married

  Get a tattoo

  Go skydiving

  Learn to play cards

  Make love somewhere crazy (after I’m married)

  Go to a club

  Get drunk

  Kiss a stranger

  Go on a mission trip

  Travel to another country for fun

  Swim with the sharks (or maybe the dolphins?)

  Ride in a hot air balloon

  Get a piercing somewhere other than my ears

  Dance in the rain

  Get kissed in the rain

  Tell mom how I really feel

  Smoke weed (ask Stephen)

  Make a difference in someone’s life

  Go skinny-dipping

  Have a baby

  Learn to shoot a gun (ask Stephen)

  Give blood

  So, Nevaeh has a wild side that’s itch
ing to come out. I read through the list, laughing at some of the items. Smoke weed. Ha! What I wouldn’t give to see her high. I’m one hundred percent against drugs, but getting to watch Nevaeh get high would be quite an experience. Of course, most of the items she’s crossed off are the do-gooder ones like giving blood. But I also notice she crossed off a couple others like Kiss a stranger. I wonder if I was the stranger she kissed. I had to have been. There’s no way she would have had the guts to kiss more than one stranger, right?

  The thought of her kissing another guy suddenly has my blood boiling. I fold up the note and shove it into my pocket. Then I grab a bunch of clothes without paying attention to what they are and shove them into the luggage, grab her phone charger, iPad, and toiletries, throw it all into the luggage as well, zip it up, and head back to my dad’s place—after making a quick pit stop at the deli to pick up subs for lunch.

  “Nevaeh!” I yell out from the foyer when I walk inside. When she doesn’t answer, I run the luggage up to her room, then go back downstairs to the kitchen with the subs. When I don’t spot her anywhere, I plate up the subs, grab a couple sodas, and make my way outside, thinking she might still be lying out by the pool where I left her a few hours ago.

  Juggling the food and drinks, I open the door leading to the back and spot her in a lounge chair from behind.

  “Hey! I brought food. You hungry?”

  Nevaeh turns her head to acknowledge me, and I notice her eyes are bloodshot and her face is blotchy and tear-stained. She must’ve been crying again. I also notice next to her, on the table, is a glass of my dad’s 1926 Macallan single malt whiskey. One glass is probably worth thirty thousand dollars. He bought the bottle when he made the biggest deal of his career. The deal that changed the entire game for him, turning him into a millionaire. The glass is only a quarter full, and I wonder if she’s drunk it all or if she only poured a small amount. If she drank it all, she’s probably well on her way to being drunk.

  Seeing my hands are full, she says, “Oh yes! Let me help you” as she stands to help. Not expecting the sight in front of me, I stumble forward and one of the cans of soda slips out of my grip. It hits the ground and bursts open, spraying the ground and my shoes in the process.