KATO
I suck in a breath and rein in my temper when I enter the bakery. Chance walks in behind me and Aubrey meets us, effectively blocking me from Nola. I move to walk around her and she stops me. I don’t have the time or patience for this so I make my move again.
“Aubrey, get out of my way, I need to see her.”
She holds up her hands. “Just…” she sighs, “please, just wait a moment.”
The brokenness in her tone stops me and stealing a quick look at Chance, I notice the concern in his eyes as he looks at his wife. It’s enough to make me realize there’s something cataclysmically wrong here. I watch as Nola walks out to the kitchen and it’s just the three of us and a shitload of broken glass.
“What is it?” I demand, looking down at Aubrey.
“Sh-She… doesn’t want to see you.”
My body locks and Aubrey steps back.
“Excuse me?” I whisper, dangerously low.
“Kato,” Chance growls, coming to stand in front of me and pushing Aubrey to the side. I look at him and I see pain in his eyes, pain for me, but I don’t know what it means.
“I tried to talk to her, I promise you I did,” Aubrey pleads and I look back to her, “but she has this thing in her head, she thinks whoever is behind this is coming for you and she…” Aubrey brings her fingers to her temples and draws small circles as her eyes drop to the floor. I take a breath as my brain spins like crazy. Aubrey’s hands drop to her sides and she looks up to me again.
“She thinks she’s protecting you, Kato.”
I round both her and Chance, “I need to speak to her.”
I can’t think of anything else and when Aubrey calls to try and stop me, Chance pulls her back. I can hear him telling her to leave me, that I need to speak to her.
“Nola,” I whisper the moment the kitchen door swings closed behind me. Her back is to me as she leans over the shiny new surface. This place was her new start and now it feels like the beginning of the end. “Talk to me,” I urge.
She turns her head slightly, acknowledging my presence and a few stray tears fall onto the countertop. I can’t see her eyes, but I know tears are streaming down her face.
“It’s okay, we can get through this, no one will hurt you,” I assure her.
She shakes her head. “It’s not me I’m worried for. We can’t… this can’t happen.”
“What can’t happen?” I reply, already knowing her answer.
“Us, we can’t continue,” she brokenly tells me.
I don’t know what to say, even though I knew what was coming, and for a moment I’m struck by her words as my mind tries to make sense of what she’s telling me.
“Why?” I ask gently, not wanting to force her hand, needing a few more moments with her before she finally tells me to leave.
Slowly, Nola turns to face me, a mixture of fear, pain and sadness swimming in her eyes and I want nothing more than to go to her, but I know how stubborn she is. I don’t want to upset her more than she already is, not when she’s carrying our child.
“Because I love you so much, too much to risk your life.”
“You know that is the most ridiculous reason I have ever heard,” I can’t quite stop the bite in my tone.
“You don’t know them!” she screams, actually screams and I can hear the fear etched into every word. “They want to break down my world, everything I love, and that includes everyone I love. I can’t…” she shakes her head frantically. “I will not let you be collateral in this.”
“How do you know they mean me?”
Her hands grip the counter as though she’s steadying herself and her knuckles blanch white.
“Because this isn’t the first note I’ve received,” she admits, casting her gaze to the floor.
I step back and shake my head. “You… what?” I reply, unsure what to say.
“A week ago, I received the first note and it named you.”
“What exactly did it say,” I demand.
She looks at me, “It said, leave him, or I’ll make sure he gets gone, permanently.”
Stepping toward her, I stop when her eyes widen. “I don’t care, we’ll tell the police, I’ll pay a security team to protect us. Shit, it’s not like I can’t protect myself, gorgeous,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
But as her eyes lock on mine, I know, from just a single look, her resolve is set. She will not be swayed. So, I have to figure out something else.
“What about the baby?” I question. All business now. I have to make her believe I’m agreeing with her asinine plan.
And that’s when I see pain so raw, I want to beat to death every motherfucker who has had a hand in this.
“When the baby is born, if there are any threats posed to him or her, I’ll…” she chokes out a sob, and I see absolute devastation on her face. I can’t stop my feet moving as I walk forward and wrap her in my arms. She doesn’t hug me back, but she also doesn’t push me away. Brokenly, she manages to push out her last few words. “If the baby is threatened, when it’s born, I’ll… I’ll give up my rights and you can raise it.” Then Nola collapses in my arms.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NOLA
I thought I had it all figured out. Get rid of Kato, stay away from Aubrey. Leave the bakery closed and remain at home as much as possible. Maybe if I was lucky, the cops would find out who was behind all the shit and I could breathe a sigh of relief, maybe even get to keep my baby, because I was sure, after the way I treated him, Kato wouldn’t want me anymore.
Funny how things never turn out the way you envisage.
And as I lie here, in my bed, recovering from an almighty crying jag and with a pounding headache, I don’t know how to feel. I’m at a crossroads. I’m aware Kato and I have to talk, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to push him away again.
The fact that he’s currently in the kitchen making me lunch, shows that he’s not going to stop fighting for us. Part of me is annoyed he didn’t listen to me, a bigger part is glad, but the majority is just terrified in a way I’ve never been before. If I lose him, I don’t know how I’d cope. At least by sending him away, I was trying to control the situation, I could protect him by making him leave me, and it would be totally on my terms.
This way though, if someone hurts him, or rips him from me, I’ll never recover and I’ll always know it was my own fault.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly as he comes in the bedroom and sits on the bed. His hand falls naturally to my knee and he squeezes, giving me some small comfort. I don’t deserve his gentle voice or unconditional love. After the way I behaved, I fully expected to see anger or at the very least a little disgust in his eyes. Instead, they hold nothing but love for me and it makes me hate myself a little more for how I tried to push him away.
I’m stubborn, and if I really had wanted to, I suppose I could have made him go. However, in the end my heart won out and through both devastation and love, a weird combination, I guess I’m choosing to be selfish and remain by his side.
“I’m making chicken soup, it will be done soon. You want to eat here or come into the kitchen?”
“The kitchen,” I answer. My voice is scratchy from the screaming and crying I did and although only a few hours have passed, it feels like a lifetime ago.
The moments feel like hours as we make our way to the kitchen, and I watch as he serves up lunch. The world around us seems like a dream and a nightmare all wrapped into one, and I guess it is. That’s the truth. Both bad and good lives outside these walls. I have to make a choice to submit or fight, and honestly, I’ve never been submissive, although I’m not Mrs. Bendy McDominatrix either. I snort out a short laugh at my own thoughts.
Kato’s lips twitch, “Something funny?” he questions.
My gaze drops to my bowl of soup, feeling awful for finding humor when we’re in such a serious situation.
“Nola,” he calls and nudges my hand until I look at him, “never stop being you, never stop b
eing funny, or feisty, or unfiltered. Don’t let the fuckers get you down, don’t let them take you away from me.” His words are so soft, but the meaning and conviction behind them, along with the raw fierceness in his eyes, tells me he’s deadly serious.
I nod, and offer a watery smile.
We both sit in silence for a moment, our food no doubt getting cold. Then I look at him and he smiles at me tenderly.
“I fucking love you,” I tell him. The words slip out before they’re even a conscious thought, but they’re true. My love for him is the one thing I don’t question.
His eyes close as though he’s absorbing my words and when they open, I see everything, his fear, his anger, his determination, his relief, but mostly, I see his love.
“I fucking love you too, don’t ever try to leave me again.”
It’s a plea and a demand at the same time, and I answer with a simple nod of my head.
I’ll never be that stupid again, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless, because I am, with every fiber of my body.
A knock at the door makes my heart pick up pace and I have to talk myself down from going to the door with Blanche, who I’m sure would probably attack me before she fought off an intruder. Instead I grab a knitting needle. When I reach the door, I swing it open, holding the needle above my head.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aubrey questions, a mixture of disbelief and humor on her face.
Slowly my arm drops and I try to stifle a grin. “I thought you might be here to kill me.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, “Really? The killer who knocks on the door first.”
I shrug, “I didn’t think it through.”
“Clearly,” she states, pointing at my knitting needle. “What the hell do you have one of those for?”
“I figured it was time I became a real life grown up.”
Aubrey bursts out laughing.
I cross my arms, “What the hell is so funny?”
“Well, firstly… you, a real life grown up? Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t think you’re built that way, and secondly… you become a grown up because you buy knitting needles?”
“No,” I say sarcasm dripping from the word, “it was my list of grown up things to do, learn to knit.”
“And did you?”
I look away, refusing to answer.
Her lips twitch, “Well, did you learn to knit?” she repeats, not willing to let it go.
Looking back at her I stomp my foot. “It’s so hard!” I wail.
Aubrey laughs again and I hear a bleat. Looking around her I see Pixy in my front garden mowing my grass with her mouth.
“I thought maybe we could go for a walk? That’s allowed right, you know, with everything going on?” she asks.
I pull my shoulders back, “I am not letting whatever crazy person is out there stop me from living my life, Anyway, across the road, in that black car, is a security guard. He’ll follow us to make sure I’m safe.”
Aubrey looks over her shoulder then back to me, her eyes widening. “When did that happen?”
Dropping my head back, I groan at the ceiling before looking back at Aubrey. “Kato insisted on it. He wanted to hire a team and have at least two in the house. I put my foot down and refused that. I said I would have a single bodyguard as long as he stayed outside. His concession was to agree, but he let me know that if I went out, Big Mike over there would be following me.”
“Big Mike?”
I hold my hands up. “I don’t know his name, but he looks like a Big Mike,” I answer.
“So, you brought a knitting needle to kill me, when if I had been a killer, who knocks on their victims’ doors, Big Mike would have tackled me before I even managed to touch your door?”
I shrug, “You could have killed Big Mike first.”
“Lord deliver me now,” she murmurs to the sky.
“Let me grab a sweater and my chucks and we can go for a walk,” I say, ignoring her plea.
I rush back into the house and wrap a sweater around my waist and pull on my chucks before sending a quick text to Kato, telling him I’m going for a walk. He responds in seconds ordering me to be careful and stating the bodyguard will be following me.
KATO: Don’t be a brat and try to lose him. He adds as an afterthought.
ME: With the size of my stomach, unlikely. I reply.
“Come on.” I say to Aubrey, making my way down the path. I can see Big Mike getting out of the car in the distance as Aubrey and I head to the beach. It’s a nice evening, a light breeze carries across the water meaning there aren’t loads of tourists, so it’s peaceful. We walk along the pathway that runs along the edge of the sand. Every so often Pixy bleats at something, but for the most part Aubrey and I remain silent and I wonder if there’s going to be a weird vibe between us from now on. I was rude toward her at the bakery. It only happened three days ago, but I’ve avoided her since.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whisper the words to her.
She stops and so do I. “Why?” she questions.
“I know I said some things, actually I can’t remember what I said, but I’m sure I was a bitch, so I’m sorry.”
She laughs and I frown looking over to her.
“You were your usual unfiltered self, but apart from that you were okay. Anything you did was led by fear, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let these things slide right off me. I love you, crazy pants, now let’s get down to the nitty gritty, when are you opening the bakery?”
I release a heavy breath, partly relief from her easy dismissal of my behavior and partly from the question she’s just asked. I’m not sure I want to answer… hell, I’m not sure I have an answer.
“I-I don’t know,” I admit.
“What do you mean?” she returns as Pixy tries – and fails - to pull her toward a small dog on the sandy beach.
“Every time I think about going back my chest tightens and I panic,” I tell her.
“Is the glass fixed?”
I nod, “Kato got it fixed the same day. All the décor I had planned is in place, as is the equipment I ordered, he even fixed a bell over the door.” I reel off all the things Kato has done in a matter of a few days, just to give me the dream I always wanted.
“Have you named it?”
I smile and nod, it’s the one thing about the bakery that excites me at the moment. “Nola’s Buns,” I tell her.
She giggles, “Double entendre, I like it.”
“True, I like that touch, but it’s more than that. Having my name up there, it makes it all real,” I reply wistfully. “I asked Kato to take me there last night and he did. My name was lit up in blue, it was beautiful,” I tell her, grinning.
“You have to get back to the bakery, Nola! Just the way you look when you talk about it, you can’t let some sicko keep you away. As Moana says, this is not who you are,” she states.
“Really… Moana?”
“A legend that girl.”
We smile stupidly at one another and then naturally fall into a hug. That is until the small dog Pixy was watching gets off his leash, barrels toward us, and bashes into Pixy who bleats and then promptly passes out. The dog stands barking, all five inches of it. Suddenly, from God knows where, Blanche jumps forward and swipes the dog, who yelps like she’s taken an ear off, at which the owner – finally – starts making her way toward us. Blanche scoots away just as Mrs. Peterson appears from behind a hotdog kiosk, holding a fucking chicken wearing a pink, diamond-studded collar. Could this walk along the beach get any weirder?
Aubrey is cooing at Pixy, trying to get her to wake up, and Blanche takes a swipe at Mrs. Peterson when she passes her, who immediately screams like it’s the devil at her heels.
I tilt my head in wonder, I mean she might be right.
The dog starts yapping again and Aubrey tells it to shut up.
“What the hell did you do to my dog?” the dog owner asks as she finally reaches us. Her hair is pulled into a tight bun and
I wonder if she pulls her hair back so tightly to iron out her wrinkles. She’s not old, maybe a little under forty, but her pinched look – teamed with a twin set that is totally not fit for a walk on the beach, or anyone under sixty – screams uptight. The woman needs to get laid.
“I saw it, I saw it all! Her evil cat tried to kill your poor dog, I’ll testify!” Mrs. Peterson wails.
I shake my head. If only I’d brought my knitting needles. I look toward Big Mike - who has remained about fifteen feet behind us the whole time - for some help. He only smirks, whilst stepping back and leaning against a wall.
“Pussy,” I call to him.
“Well!” Mrs. Peterson blusters at my cussing.
I do a quick check around just to confirm that there are no kids, then I look back to her and raise my eyebrow.
“Derrick has sensitive ears,” she proclaims.
“You know Derrick is a chicken, right?”
“Of course I know!”
“Just checking. Also, chickens are female, Derrick is typically a male name and he’s not a cock, although…” I shrug my shoulders dramatically and let my words hang, making her cheeks redden.
“You, young lady, are so rude! God help that child being brought up by you.” She wags her finger at my stomach.
“I wholeheartedly agree, you scared my poor Pansy,” the dog owner says, picking up her still yapping dog like it’s a baby. “And that nasty cat, it should be put out of its misery.”
That’s when I snap. While Aubrey is still coaxing a just awakening Pixy, both the dog owner and Mrs. Peterson are congratulating each other on how they’re dealing with the awful situation and the stupid dog is still yapping.
“Shut up!” I shout and they all stare at me stunned… well, except Aubrey who’s used to my escapades.
The dog jumps out of its owner’s hands and starts nipping at my ankles and the chicken – I refuse to call it Derrick, poor thing – starts flapping its wings, hitting Mrs. Peterson in the face. Pixy jumps up and shits on Mrs. Peterson’s shoes, and I start laughing while I try to push the dog away with my feet as it keeps going for my ankles.
Cocky Delight: A Hero Club Novel Page 16