by Jo McNally
“Just a wild guess—does this need have anything to do with the dark bags under Nick’s eyes this morning and his general air of stay-away-or-I’ll-stab-you?”
Cassie’s chest tightened. Nick had been the one to end things, but at least he was paying a price for it right along with her. Was it wrong if that knowledge gave her a small dose of satisfaction?
“Cassie?”
“Oh...um... What?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Blake sounded resigned. “Is this going to be a problem?”
Does a broken heart qualify as a “problem”?
“At work? No, of course not. I just need a day, okay?”
“Don’t be surprised if you have company shortly.” Was Nick on his way over? Why? He’d said they were finished. She started to rise until Blake continued. “Amanda took one look at Nick this morning and managed to deduce everything in about five seconds. She scares the shit out of me when she does that, because she’s never wrong. She called Nick a few choice names and flew out of here a few minutes ago. Odds are she’s headed your way.”
As if scripted, there was a sharp knock at the door.
She opened the door to find Amanda standing with hands on hips. She gave Cassie a quick once-over and stepped in for a sneak-attack hug. Cassie didn’t bother pretending she didn’t need it right now. She even returned it, and felt Amanda flinch in surprise. They stood in the doorway like that, and Cassie did her best to hold back the tears that threatened yet again. It was Amanda who stepped back first, wiping something from her face before meeting Cassie’s gaze.
“How bad is it? Do I have to hire a hit man? Should I make Blake fire him? Banish him to Bali? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
Cassie couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. She’d never had a friend who had her back like this. It eased the pain, if only for a moment.
“Bodily harm won’t be necessary.” Although, to be honest, she had no idea how she’d be able to face Nick at work every day. “Let’s face it, this was inevitable. I was never going to be able to trust Nick not to hurt me somehow, and he was never going to be able to see me as anyone other than a victim. It’s better for both of us that it happened now instead of...” The words choked her into silence.
Instead of after I told him I loved him.
“That’s a load of bull. You two are crazy for each other. And if it makes you feel any better, he looks even worse than you do, so there’s no way he’s thinking this is a good thing. Come on, pour me some coffee and tell me what happened.”
* * *
Nick called and texted Cassie a dozen times with no response Friday. Ignoring him was childish, and it irritated him. Sure, the fight was bad, but pulling the silent treatment on him was ridiculous. He sent another text near the end of the workday, basically saying exactly that. Half an hour later, the boss’s wife walked into his office and made it clear that he’d be putting himself in mortal danger—from her—if he bothered Cassie again for at least the next twenty-four hours.
“I get that you already regret breaking up with her,” Amanda said, “and you should regret it, but leave her the hell alone for a few days. That kind of hurt doesn’t go away with an I’m sorry. And as far as I know, you haven’t bothered to actually say you were sorry yet.” Nick frowned, going over his texts and messages in his mind. He’d apologized. Right? He must have apologized. Or had he just talked about how they “needed to talk” before he started chastising her for not responding? Damn, he was really bad at this relationship business.
Blake appeared in the doorway, an amused smile on his face as he slid his arms around his wife.
“Is there a problem here, honey?”
She twisted her neck to look up at him, then leaned back into his embrace. Nick felt a pinch of pain in his chest at the look of intimacy between them. It was the same type of look he and Cassie had shared more than once.
“Nothing serious, dear. Your idiot of a security chief made an ass of himself and hurt the woman he loves, but he’s going to make it better. Right, Nick?”
...you already regret breaking up with her...
“Wait...did you say I broke up with her? We had a fight, and it was ugly, but...” He tried to rewind their argument. They both said hurtful things, sure, but not that. “Did she tell you I broke up with her?”
It was the first look of hesitation he’d seen in Amanda’s blue-eyed glare since she’d spotted his unshaven, disheveled appearance that morning, then looked to Cassie’s empty desk and lit into him for obviously being the reason for her absence. She tipped her head to the side, her eyes narrowing again.
“Are you telling me you didn’t tell her you two were ‘done’—” she lifted her fingers into air quotes “—before you stormed off?”
“I...” Nick’s mouth stayed open, but no more words came out. Had he said that? No. Well... Yes, he had. But...
“I didn’t mean it that way.” He knew that sounded bad, and Blake’s sharp laugh confirmed it.
“Dude. You told the woman you love that you were done in the middle of a fight, but you ‘didn’t mean it’?” Now it was Blake’s turn to do air quotes. “How does done not mean done? There aren’t that many ways to interpret the word.”
“I meant the argument was done. I was done fighting. I figured we needed to stop before it got worse, so I declared an end to it.” He knew without hearing Amanda and Blake’s sharp intake of breath that he sounded like a controlling asshole. Kinda like the guy Cassie had accused him of resembling last night. He scrubbed both hands down his face in aggravation. “Okay. Maybe I was wrong.” Amanda’s brow lifted sharply. “Okay, I was wrong. But damn it, how could she think I’d end us like that?”
Amanda started to answer, but Blake rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Let me field this one.” He sat in one of the chairs in front of Nick’s desk, pulling his wife onto his lap. He gestured for Nick to take the other chair. “You’re in love with a woman that...”
“Okay, why do you two keep throwing the L word around here like it’s some foregone conclusion? I’ve never told you I’m in love with Cassie.”
Amanda bristled, but Blake chuckled and held her tight.
“It’s okay, babe. I was the same damned way. I refused to admit the truth about my feelings for you. I didn’t ever want to be in love, so I clearly couldn’t love you. Don’t you remember?”
Her eyes softened and she patted his arm. “We both had a lot of denial going on back then.”
Blake nodded. “And that’s where Nick is right now. He doesn’t want to need anyone, so he won’t admit he needs that woman more than he needs air to breathe.”
Nick straightened. “‘He’ is sitting right here.”
“Yeah, you are. And she’s sitting alone in an apartment in town. And you both feel like shit. I’ve been there, Nick.” Blake glanced at his wife. “We’ve been there. You ask how Cassie could believe you’d end it, but the question is—why would she believe you wouldn’t? Have you told her you love her?”
Nick didn’t need to answer that. They all knew he hadn’t.
“Okay. Have you thought about her past?”
“I’m the one who taught her self-defense, remember?”
“That’s nice. But have you really thought about it? How deep it goes?” Blake sat back and sighed. “Look, I knew about Amanda’s past, and her issues with trust, once we got involved. We’d talked about it, and everything was cool in my mind. What’s done is done, right?” Nick saw the flash of pain that crossed Amanda’s face, and Blake must have sensed it, because he pulled her close again. “Then Amanda thought I’d lied to her about something. I hadn’t lied, despite all the evidence to the contrary. I told her I didn’t lie, but her past taught her that men weren’t to be trusted. I was so butt-hurt that she wouldn’t believe me that I got pissed off and left, basically proving she was r
ight—men couldn’t be trusted.” Blake shook his head, lost in the memory of what was clearly a bad time for them.
Cassie had accused Nick of having a hero complex. Of refusing to see her as anything but a victim to be rescued. That he wanted to rescue her and simultaneously resented her need for rescue. How twisted up his beliefs were with what happened to Jada. He glanced at her photo on the bookshelf. If Jada were here right now, she’d kick his ass six ways from Sunday for being such a lunkhead.
He frowned. She’d kick his ass for a lot of reasons. And at the top of the list would be the guilt he’d carried around for two years. The way he’d avoided Shayla since the funeral. The anger he’d been carrying toward Beth Washington. The way he ran from LA, trying to flee all those memories. The way he’d projected all of that baggage onto Cassie, when she was already carrying a full load. He stood, but Amanda jumped up before he could bolt out the door.
“Give her some space, Nick. You’re both exhausted and hurting right now. Spend a little time thinking about things, and give her time to do the same.” She turned to smile at Blake behind her. “Those days we spent apart were brutal, but, looking back, I think we needed that space to decide if we were both willing to change. Tomorrow you’ll be thinking more clearly and can come up with a way to win her back.”
He looked at Blake. “Is that what you did? You won her back?”
He was hoping for a few pointers, but Blake laughed. “Nope. She beat me to it. Chased me down and basically dared me not to be in love with her.” He shrugged. “It worked.”
Everything in Nick was telling him to run to Cassie, but he resisted. He looked at Jada’s photo again. He was no good to Cassie if he couldn’t confront his own demons. He slapped Blake on the back and tapped Amanda under the chin with his finger.
“Thanks, you two. I’m still new in the corporate world, but I’m pretty sure this conversation is way above and beyond what’s expected from an employer. I appreciate it.”
Amanda smiled, but there was a steeliness in her eyes. “That’s great. Just make sure you know what you want. And don’t hurt her again, Nick. Or you’ll be dealing with me.”
Blake laughed again. “Okay, Rocky, let’s go. Good luck, man.”
Nick went home and sent one last text to Cassie.
I’m SORRY. We’re NOT done. Let’s talk when you’re ready.
He was frustrated, but not all that surprised, when she ignored that text, just like she’d ignored the others. For all he knew, she’d turned her phone off after he’d kept hounding her earlier. Saturday passed without a word, but he didn’t text her again, even though he checked his phone at least fifty times.
He poured a glass of whiskey and sat on the deck Saturday night, watching the sun setting over Gallant Lake. The ice cubes were almost melted before he finally picked up the phone and dialed. Shayla’s voice was surprised and guarded.
“Hello? Nick?”
“Hi, Shayla.” Silence stretched taut while he watched a blue heron walking on the lakeshore, pausing every other step to stare into the water, looking for dinner.
“It really is you. Is something wrong?” He pictured Shayla, her hair long and wild with curls, the way Jada liked it. Shayla was the light and energy to Jada’s practical and, yes, controlling ways. Jada had been all business, the consummate professional police officer, while Shayla was the free-spirited dance teacher. They’d both had to compromise their ways to make the marriage work, and they’d done it without a second thought. At least it seemed that way.
“Hello? Look, Nick, if this is a drunk dial, I don’t have time for it. I’ve got a recital tonight at the school...”
“I’m not drunk. I mean...I’m drinking, but it’s my first one of the night. Do you have a few minutes?”
He heard her snort of laughter. “If you’re gonna speak, I got an hour. If you’re just crying into your whiskey, I ain’t got the time or temperament for it, Nick. I haven’t heard from you in more than a year...”
“I’m so sorry, Shayla.”
There was a beat of silence. “Sorry for what?”
The heron was on the other side of the dock now, frozen on one leg, head tipped to the side as if he was waiting for Nick’s answer, too.
“For every damn thing. But mostly for taking Jada from you.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the call, then he heard a rustle of fabric as if she was sitting down.
“Earl Washington took Jada away from me. From us. I told you at the funeral not to listen to those idiots at the department, didn’t I? That you weren’t to blame?”
“If I hadn’t gone to that house...”
“If you hadn’t gone there, Beth Washington and those kids would be dead. Is that why you haven’t called before now? Is that why you left LA? Because you think you’re responsible for me being a widow?” She paused. “I absolved you of that two years ago.”
His short laugh had no humor in it. “It didn’t take, Shayla.”
“Clearly. Where are you?”
“I’m in the Catskills. I took a security job for a chain of resorts based here.”
“Putting that master’s degree to work, eh? And today, out of the blue, you sat down with a drink and decided to beg my forgiveness for Jada’s death?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Why?”
Nick smiled. Shayla had picked up some of Jada’s directness in their brief time together.
“Someone... Someone’s been pushing me to face my past.”
“In other words, you’ve met a woman who called you on your bullshit?”
The heron struck out, its head diving under the surface of the water, coming up with a wiggling minnow. Nick chuckled. “You sound just like Jada. Straight to the point.”
“That’s why you were so good together. You didn’t take any shit from each other, and you almost knew what the other one was going to do before they did it. Jada said you two were like one person when you worked together.”
Nick thought back to the years he and Jada worked together. Once they’d hashed out their initial power struggle, they really were like a well-oiled machine. They broke up a sex-trafficking ring. They moved a drug gang out of a residential neighborhood so children could feel safe playing on the sidewalks. They solved dozens of murders. Probably hundreds of crimes. As weird as it might sound, they’d had a great time doing it. It just worked.
Until it didn’t. Until he saw Jada falling from the blast of Earl’s shotgun. Once Nick had everyone out of the house, he’d rushed back in to hold Jada in his arms. The sound of her rattling breaths drowned out the screams of the children and the wail of approaching sirens outside.
“Her last words were about you.”
“I know, Nick. You told me. You came to me and repeated every word she said, just like she’d asked you to do.” The tremor in her voice betrayed her tears. “Are you sure this isn’t a drunk dial?”
He shook his head and took another swig of whiskey.
“You listen to me, Nick West. Jada’s death is. Not. Your. Fault. She was a police officer following up on a domestic violence call. That’s as unpredictable and dangerous as it gets. She knew that as well as you did. She used to tell me all the time that sometimes bad shit happens, and you can’t always control it.”
“She didn’t have her vest on.”
“That’s not on you. She hated that vest. We used to argue about it all the time. Jada did whatever the hell Jada wanted, and she wasn’t going to be bossed around by you or me or anyone else. The vest was her choice. And as high as the shot was, it may not have saved her anyway. Nick, you gotta let go of the guilt. It’s too much to carry.”
Cassie had told him basically the same thing. Too much to carry. Maybe he needed to start listening to the women in his life. He heard a rustle on the phone... Tissues? Shayla sniffled, then her voice s
teadied again.
“What if the situation was reversed?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if you were the one killed, and Jada survived? Would you have wanted her to be burdened with guilt over it? Would you want her quitting the force, running away, torturing herself over some made-up idea of being responsible for controlling your actions or the actions of a madman with a gun?”
He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t. It was too much truth to take in. If Earl Washington had come in the front door, behind Nick, it would have been him shot in the back. And Jada would have been the one watching in horror. He’d trade his life for hers in a heartbeat, but that’s not what happened. Earl came in from the back of the house, behind Jada. And there wasn’t a damn thing Nick could do to roll back time and change it.
“Nick? What would you want if it was reversed?”
He drained the whiskey, welcoming the sharp burn of it sliding down his throat.
“I’d give anything for it to have been me who died that night. I’d want Jada to be alive, you two to be together, having that baby you dreamed about. But no, I wouldn’t want her feeling responsible for me.”
“Because...?”
“Because sometimes bad shit happens, and we can’t always control it.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment, then Shayla sighed.
“I’ve gotta go get the kids ready for this recital tonight. But Nick, you should know that I’m adopting a little girl. It’s what Jada and I always wanted. Tamra’s four years old, and I swear to God she’s a reincarnation of Jada.” Nick smiled at the thought. “She’s all spit and fire and power, and she’s gonna take over the world by the time she’s ten if I’m not careful. I miss Jada every single damn day, but seeing love in this little girl’s eyes keeps Jada with me in a good way. I honor her memory by loving someone the way she loved me. You should do the same. Maybe with this woman who’s got the brains to tell you to straighten the hell up.”
Chapter Eighteen