By the time they’d boarded the flight home, she’d been exhausted from the amount of food they’d eaten and their conversation. Embarrassingly, she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, and had woken with his arm around her.
“I’m okay,” she said, feeling uncharacteristically optimistic. “Nik said something that reassured me. He said that he couldn’t promise the process of us getting to friends was going to be easy, which I totally understand. And he knows I’m going to ask questions and need answers to things that are going to be painful before we can move on. It’s a gross analogy, but it’s a bit like a boil that needs lancing. It isn’t going to get better until we’ve blown it open and cleaned inside.”
Maisey nodded. “It’s a perfect analogy. You know, I would give anything to see Nik and all of my boys happy, but not if it comes at your expense.”
Jenny smiled and reached across the island counter. “I really appreciate that, Maisey. And in the spirit of not setting up any false expectations as to what my goals are here, I’m seeing this as a way to gain closure. There’s a huge difference between dealing with something painful and just boxing it up and burying it deep.”
A loud scream sounded from up the stairs, and Jenny jumped to her feet. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Maisey, and let you know how the boys have settled,” she said as she hurried up the stairs.
When she got to the bathroom, Harry was stripped down to his underpants and was tucked in the small space between the wall and the toilet. His hair was now buzzed very close to his scalp, and tears poured down his face.
Simon was crouched low on the other side of the bathroom, making himself as small and unintimidating as possible. “Hey, Jenny,” he said quietly and calmly. “Harry doesn’t want a bath.”
Thomas appeared next to Jenny, tears ringing his eyes. “It’s Dad’s fault . . . he . . . if we didn’t . . . he . . .” Thomas’s words slid into silent sobs, and Jenny turned to face him and gently placed her hand on his shoulders.
“You’re safe, Thomas. Both of you are,” she said, taking a moment to look at Harry. “Whatever you say here is safe. No one will hit you, or call you names, or do anything that will compromise your safety.”
Harry’s screams became hiccups as his sobs subsided.
“Why doesn’t Harry want to get in the bath, Thomas? It’s okay for you to tell us so we can help him.”
Harry shook his head, violently. “We’ll get in trouble,” he said, his little voice hoarse.
Thomas looked at her, his eyes questioning, clearly torn. “You won’t tell Dad, will you?”
Jenny shook her head. “I won’t. But I can’t guarantee I won’t tell your social worker or the police if I feel you were endangered in some way. My only priority is the safety of the two of you.”
Thomas dropped to his knees and crawled over to Harry, who crept out of the small space and launched himself into Thomas’s arms. “My dad liked to play a game where he’d try to drown us, sometimes in the toilet, other times in the bath.”
Jenny dropped to her knees, and Simon moved from crouching to sitting with his back against the bath. She could tell that, like her, Simon realized that if they tried to move the two boys, the progress would be lost. “How often did that happen?” she asked. But looking at the streaks of dirt that covered their skin, she had already guessed the answer.
“Whenever he found us in the bathroom.”
Dear God. She’d read in the file that Harry still had accidents, but it made total sense. The child must be terrified of the bathroom. She’d have to ask for the help of the other boys in the house with this. No one could ever disturb him in there; it would terrify him. Maybe she’d redirect everyone else to the other bathrooms.
“Harry,” she said quietly. “Simon is quickly going to do Thomas’s hair, and then he and I are going to leave. And Thomas, why don’t you stay? You can lock the door behind us so nobody can come in and bother you.” There was no way she was going to tell him that it was a safety lock that could be opened from the outside. That could come later. “Let Harry have a bath for as long as he wants, for as long as he feels safe. But you need to use the special shampoo and soap over there,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the side of the tub. “When you are dry, bundle yourself up in your towel, and I’ll have some clean clothes ready for you in your room. Then you can do the same thing, Thomas. Okay?”
Both boys nodded. “Thank you, Jenny,” Thomas said.
“You’re welcome, Thomas. Everything is going to be okay.”
The looks in both their eyes told her they didn’t believe her.
She stepped into the office, closed the door, and leaned back against it. There really was no limit to the ways in which adults could abuse children. She thought of Nik and the way he’d lost his mother. She thought of her father and the letter she’d received. Then her phone buzzed.
She checked it. A new message from Nik.
What time do you finish tomorrow?
Early shift, as always. She’d gone from being a night owl with Nik to an early bird on her own. There had never been any reason to stay up late, and waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed had been something she simply couldn’t handle.
Through the window, she saw a beautiful red cardinal land on the bird feeder. For a moment, she considered that in among the shit life offered, there were random snatches of beauty. Was she foolish to keep Nik at arm’s length?
She took a deep breath and looked out of the window. Leaves were starting to lose their fight with nature, fluttering to the ground in the breeze. If she answered, she knew for sure he was going to ask her to meet him, to do something. Being with him in New York had been a fantasy. It had allowed her to step back in time a little and remember what it was like to simply be with Nik. But could she do it back here in Toronto?
Friends.
Could she live with that?
Why was she flip-flopping?
Quickly she typed a response before she chickened out. Six.
I’ll be waiting outside.
Why?
The dots bounced on the screen and she bit her lip, curious what his intentions were.
Because I’ve waited three days already.
Dots.
Because I’m trying not to crowd you.
Dots.
Because I can’t wait until the day after.
Dots.
Because I missed you.
Dots.
Because I love talking with you.
Dots.
Because I get hard when I think about you.
Dots.
Because waiting is what I am willing to do until you see me as who I am now, not who I was then.
Dots.
Because you are worth every fucking hoop you ask me to jump through.
Jenny read each message and then pressed her phone to her heart and tried to come up with an answer.
Two possibilities screamed at her. One from her head.
And the other from her heart.
* * *
The gig at the rock festival in Florida had been one for the history books, but Nik had hated every minute of it.
Nothing had felt right. Nothing had sounded right.
For the first time ever, he’d felt uncomfortable on stage. He’d felt displaced.
And he knew the reason why.
Because Florida was fourteen hundred miles away from Toronto and the only person he really wanted to be with. The person he needed to convince that they had a future together.
Plus, Ryan had been on his back about the TV show, and he still hated the idea just as much as he had when Ryan first raised it.
“Dear fucking God,” Dred said as the CN Tower came into view from the window of the private jet. He looked at Nik over the top of the book he was reading—What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “I am so glad I am not a woman. In fact, I think I’m gonna stop off at Tiffany on the way home and buy Pix some real expensive shit.”
Nik laughed. “Whatever it is yo
u just read, I don’t want to know.”
“Baby Zander’s teeth are growing in his jaw, Pix’s tits are getting ready to produce something I can’t even pronounce, and there is some shit about increased vaginal discharge that just put me off sex for the next month.” Dred closed the book and put it down on the table between the two of them. “Like seriously, my fiancée is hot as shit, but even I wonder if there is any coming back from this. Part of me thinks it’s a miracle, and the rest of me thinks it’s like the opening scene in Alien. You know, where that fucking creature eats its way out of that person’s gut.”
“For what it’s worth,” Nik said. “I strongly suggest you never repeat any of that shit to Pix.”
Dred grinned. “Never. Especially seeing that being pregnant has her hot for me twenty-four seven, which is just about the same way I’ve felt about her for the last year and a half.”
“I envy you,” Nik said before he had the chance to process the thought. “Not Pix,” he added with a laugh. “But this. Engagement, marriage, kids. Plans. A life for the two of you.”
Dred ran his fingers over the pregnant tummy on the cover of the book. “In all the years, I never thought I’d get this. I thought I’d be a shit adult. A dropout. But I have Pix. And my baby girl. And the little beansprout. And a home. All of the other shit could go away, and I’d still be this stupid fucking happy, Nik.”
The words, said with such unadulterated joy, cut through Nik. He was so far away from being able to say that about his life that his chest hurt.
Nik looked out of the window. His guess was that they’d be landing at the island airport in ten minutes.
“You okay, dude?” Dred asked. “You’ve been quiet.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Nik said in response.
Dred took a sip of water. “Anything.”
“Ryan wants me to appear on this show about tracing your history. Different celebrity each week. One-hour show. Says it will help smooth over the whole video thing, show me in a different light. But I’m not feeling it.”
“So, what’s the question?”
Nik sighed. What was the fucking question? “So much shit has happened, I can’t help but think they are going to turn me into a sympathy story. And I hate the idea that my dad’s and grandparent’s histories are some privileged white guy’s idea of fucking entertainment.”
“So don’t do it,” Dred said.
“Do you think I should do it?” Nik asked.
Dred ran his fingers through his hair. “Can’t answer that for you. It’s easy to sit here as a white guy and say it sounds like a good idea, but what the fuck do I know?”
Nik looked back out of the window.
“Is that what’s been on your mind the last week?” Dred asked. “You’ve been . . . I don’t know. You’ve always been our even keel, man. Seeing you out of sorts is weird.”
He had. He’d been there for all of them. When he’d struggled to adapt to their life of fame, they’d stood by him. And now they were all moving on with their lives, and he was still stuck where he’d been. Nik ran his hands through his hair and gave it a tug. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said, knowing full well it was a lie. But as always, he didn’t want to burden any of them with his shit. He’d hidden his real feelings about just about everything for as long as he could remember.
The plane landed and they hopped into three limos. Once upon a time, they would have all got into one and gone straight to the address they used to share. Now Jordan and Dred went off to their homes in Bloor West Village, and Lennon went off to midtown. Nik jumped into a limo with Elliott.
“Was it me, or was Lennon an even bigger dick than usual this weekend?” Elliott said, switching his phone back on.
Lennon had been. But Nik hadn’t the energy to get involved like he usually did and smooth it over. He was exhausted.
“I mean, perhaps you could give him a shout tomorrow and ask him to rein it in,” Elliott added, still looking down at his phone. Likely telling Kendalee he was on his way home.
“And why do I need to do that?” he asked. Why did they always assume he’d fix it? He’d gotten in the middle of so many fights over the years. Fights that had left him physically and emotionally bruised. But if he hadn’t stepped in, if he hadn’t played peacemaker, he was certain Preload wouldn’t have survived their first year of success.
Elliott looked up, surprise etching his features. “Because he listens to you. You are the only one he’ll listen to. If I call him up, he’ll call me a douche and hang up.”
“You know, a day’s gonna come when you guys are going to have to fight your own battles.”
“You thinking of going somewhere?” Elliott asked. He raised an eyebrow. “We can totally fight our own shit, but why might you not be there?”
Nik shook his head. “Forget I said anything. I’m just tired.”
“Really? Are you sure that’s all that’s going on?”
The limo pulled up in front of Nik’s new home, and for the first time he thought of it as his own sanctuary. “Yeah. I’m sure,” he said, sitting forward on his seat and slapping Elliott on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stepped out of the limo and waited as the driver got his suitcase out of the trunk. With a quick thanks, he hurried up the steps and opened the door to the whirring sound of high-pitched drills and the inaudible ramble of a radio DJ. Nik dropped his suitcase in the hall and jogged up to the third floor. Everyone had suggested he get the renovation done while living elsewhere, but he was fed up of living distanced and protected from every inconvenience. The smell of sawdust, the rasp of files, the clatter of tools all helped him feel grounded.
“How is it going?” he asked Leo, the foreman, who was busy looking at a cluster of wires.
“Hey, Nik,” Leo said over his shoulder. “Go take a look at the bathroom.”
Nik stepped over a pile of wood, and his chest tightened in excitement, which was such a fucking girly emotion. The wall between the bathroom and the old second bedroom had been removed, and what had been bare bones before he’d left was starting to come together. A large Jacuzzi stood in one corner. His and hers shower stalls were partly installed, and he could see the large ceiling-mounted shower heads, which gave him hope that his days of dealing with stupid mustard tiles and terrible water pressure would soon be over.
“New water tank has been installed in the basement,” Leo said, stepping up behind him. “All new pipes. We had to rip out the walls in apartment four to bring the pipes up to the third floor. Didn’t think you’d mind, seeing you’re keeping yourself to apartment one.”
Nik shook his head. “Not at all. You could rip it all out for all I care.”
“Perfect. Well, I know you wanted your bathroom and bedroom done quickly. There’s every chance this could be usable here in another ten days. Won’t be pretty, or decorated, but it will be functional.”
He offered Leo his hand. “Thanks so much,” he said. And both men knew Nik meant thank you for more than just the reno. If Leo hadn’t taken a chance on Nik by giving him that first construction job all those years ago, there wouldn’t have been enough money to keep a roof above all their heads. Leo nodded, as was his way, and went back to the electrical work.
Nik jogged back down the stairs, shut the door to the apartment, flopped onto the bed, slipped in some noise-cancelling earbuds, and grabbed a couple of hours’ sleep.
Four hours later, after a quick shower, he found himself heading up the path to the group home just as the front door opened, allowing a burst of light onto the dark garden.
“Perfect timing,” he said to Jenny as she stepped outside. She tugged her coat around her as the mid-November wind blew down the street. Leaves whipped around them as she approached.
“Hey, Nik.” She twirled her keys around her finger, just like she’d always used to. It was a nervous habit, and seeing it gave him comfort that he was affecting her at least a little, if not quite as much as she was affecting him.
“I’d forgotten how badly I dealt with being away from you,” he murmured honestly and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, smiling softly when she sighed.
“Your text messages. They were . . .”
“Truthful? Persuasive? Honest?” He took her hand and led her to his car.
“Too much,” she said as he opened her door. “I don’t think you realize that you ruined me for everybody else. Including you,” she said. “I can’t do falling in love. I can’t do depending on someone else ever again.”
Nik placed his hand on her cheek. “I get it. That’s why I am here. I know I’ve got an uphill battle to get you to trust me again, but I’m ready to do the work. It’s going to take time, but I’m going to show you that it’s okay to depend on me because I’ll be there for you a thousand times over.”
Jenny held his gaze, and he was certain he could have pressed his lips to hers. But that wasn’t what Jenny needed. She needed him to put his money where his mouth was and show her she could trust him. Without a word, she slipped into his car, and he shut the door securely before joining her.
“Where are we going?” she asked when they turned onto Lake Shore Boulevard.
He didn’t want to ruin the surprise that they were going to retrace their steps. “You’ll see.” He pulled off Lake Shore into the parking lot that faced out over Lake Ontario. It was too dark to see the horizon, but the bright lights of the city could be seen in the distance around the shoreline. It had been one of their favorite things to do, take a street car across the city and hop off at Windermere so they could walk down to the waterfront and hike the ten kilometers along the lake back to Jenny’s group home.
Nikan Rebuilt--A steamy, emotional rockstar romance Page 9