Nic's Devotion: An Endless Series: Book One

by Sara Hess

  Once more, I stared at the phone in shock. Carrie’s mom was a real Class A bitch. She was acting like Carrie wasn’t an adult who could make her own decisions. Carrie worked her ass off to help her mother. She’d gotten a scholarship and went to college for fuck sake. What in the hell was with her mom?

  I really wanted to go over to her apartment and find out if she was okay. The only thing stopping me was that it might make Carrie’s life more unbearable with her mother. I didn’t want to, and it was going to test my patience, but I was going to have to wait until Monday.

  SHIT!

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Monday took fucking forever to arrive and when it did the day dragged. Classes moved at a snail's pace and when I was at practice all I wanted was to get out of there, which wasn’t like me. Normally, lacrosse was my favorite part of the day. Instead, I almost got into a fight on the field with Curt because the shithole didn’t know when to keep his damn mouth shut. Then coach pulled me off the field saying that I was checking a little too aggressively.

  It wasn’t as if I was swinging my shaft and taking off the heads of anybody who dared to get in my way…like I wanted to do.

  When practice was over I marched off the field into the locker room throwing my stuff at my locker.

  Landon came up behind me. “Dude, you are livin’ a short fuse today.”

  I grunted, stripping out of my gear as quickly as possible.

  “You’re starting to sound like Pit.” Evan snorted, walking past toward his locker.

  “Don’t call me ‘Pit’.” Seth growled from behind Evan.

  Evan jerked in surprise. “Damn Pit, for such a big guy you’re freakishly light on your feet.”

  Seth ignored him turning to his locker. “You’ve been on edge since Carrie skipped out on you. Do you need to talk?” He mumbled into his locker.

  Fuck, I knew I was on edge. A day and a half of not hearing anything from Carrie was shredding my last nerve. “I just need to get over and talk to her. Her mom basically told me to ‘fuck off’ not even knowing who I was, and I don’t even want to repeat what she said about Carrie. She sounds like a complete head case.” It got me hot under the collar just thinking about what Carrie’s mom had said about her. What kind of mother calls her daughter a slut?

  “Well, get it done so you can get over your snit.” Evan stated as he began stripping down.

  “Thanks for your concern; I feel it deeply.” I replied sardonically, heading for the shower.

  “I’m all about that deep feeling shit.” He called after me.

  I rushed through my shower getting dressed quickly, and after a hurried ‘see you later’ I was out the door. It was six-thirty p.m. when I finally walked through the doors of the Sports store. Looking around I didn’t catch any glimpse of Carrie on the floor, and hey, great, Mark was managing tonight.

  “Mark,” I acknowledged with restrained tolerance. “Is Carrie here?”

  A smug smile spread over the prick’s face. “Carrie just ran in the back when she saw you coming and now she’s doing some stocking for the rest of the night. Seems she doesn’t want to see you.”

  My temper escalated with every word out of the shit heads mouth. Unfortunately, the guy was Carrie’s superior and had complete control over what she did at work. It’s not like I could complain and demand that she be made available to me. I was just going to have to wait for her to get off work.

  I strode away without another word. If I stayed I would have had hauled him over the counter to beat the living day lights out of him. The guy was an ass-hat and a half.

  As I waited in my truck I tried dismissing Mark’s words about her running into the back room to get away from me, but they troubled me. Had she really done that or had Mark just been yanking my chain? I wouldn’t put it past him, but the fact that she’d never called amped my disquiet. I would have thought she would have called to tell me she was home safe or just to, I don’t know, talk to me. Some small form of communication from her would have been fucking nice.

  Just before the party I thought we’d come to some sort of agreement on stepping up our relationship, but then I don’t hear from her for two days. Was she still upset about what happened at the party, or was her mom somehow keeping her from getting a hold of me? That might work at her apartment, but she could make some effort here at the college.

  Whatever it was, these last two days of silence had been hell. I was at a cross between worried sick and mad as hell.

  Eight o’clock finally arrived and the building went dark as the lights were turned off. Only Carrie didn’t come out. When five minutes elapsed and she still hadn’t come out I began to see the truth of Mark’s words. She was avoiding me. Instead of coming out the front as she normally did it looked like she’d snuck out the back.

  Anger burned through me. What the hell? I didn’t have to deal with this crap. If she didn’t want to see me than I wasn’t going to chase her. There were plenty of other girls out there without the drama this female was giving me. I’d been fine with the status quo before her and had no problem returning to it.

  I gripped the wheel tightly, twisting the leather in my hands. Dammit! I couldn’t let it go; I had to find out what her deal was. Wrenching the wheel I drove out of the parking lot and headed toward her bus stop. Carrie’s bus was already pulling up and I saw her get on as I drove up to the intersection. How in the hell had she made it here so fast to catch the early bus?

  Mark, the shithead, must have dropped her off.

  I followed the bus as it drove away. I’d waylay her when she got off and make her explain to me why in the hell she was avoiding me. God, I hope that didn’t appear as stalker’ish as it did in my head. I mean, if she didn’t want to see me it was her choice and I shouldn’t be hounding her about it.

  I hit the wheel in angry frustration. I wasn’t going to just let this go. I needed some kind of reason why she was acting this way. It didn’t seem like her.

  The bus was approaching her stop and I was still debating what to do when the bus continued on without stopping. I frowned in confusion. Why wasn’t she getting off? My inner debate was shelved as I followed the bus to see where she’d get off. Fifteen minutes and four stops later I saw Carrie finally exit the bus. She was all bundled up carrying her backpack but I knew that jacket, beanie, and her form anywhere.

  I was wondering if I was going to have to trail her inconspicuously as she began walking north when after only ten yards she approached a building and walked in. There was no parking on the street so I drove by slowly to catch the words on the sign out front.

  Mary Ainsworth Women’s Shelter.

  I braked involuntarily. Why in the hell would Carrie be going in there!? Was she visiting someone? Maybe her dad wasn’t as out of the picture as I had been thinking. Had Carrie coming home late the other night set off some sort of violent repercussion? My gut clenched at the thought. Any anger I’d had toward her redirected itself toward anyone that might have hurt her.

  Finding a parking spot across the street I jogged over to the building. Opening the door I found myself in a small enclosed cubicle leading to another door. I tried opening it but it was locked.

  “What can I do for you?” A voice asked over an intercom.

  I looked to the side and noticed a thick window and on the other side of it sat a middle aged dirty blonde woman behind a desk. She was giving me a death glare.

  “Uh, I was looking for a friend. She just came in. Her name is Carrie Harper.” I faltered slightly. The hostility in the woman’s face was a bit unnerving.

  “This is a woman’s shelter, men are not allowed.”

  I had a feeling she meant ‘not welcome’. “Can I leave a name or are there visiting hours?” I asked with a smile even as angry impatience beat at me.

  The hostility didn’t diminish. This was not a male-friendly zone. “You can give me your name and I will inform her that you’re here, but visiting hours are only for another fifteen minutes.” I gave her my na
me and she picked up a phone and punched a button. I could see her talking but I couldn’t hear her through the glass, and after a minute she hung up.

  “She’s coming. You have to stay in the enclosed area.” She gave me a glower to emphasize her point.

  I nodded in agreement. I wasn’t going to argue with her. There were women and children here who’d had violence committed against them by men. They had a reason to be wary, especially since some of those men came looking for them. Knowing that Carrie was here possibly because of that…my stomach churned.

  The time ticked away as I waited for her to show, and the more time that passed made me more anxious. She’d ditched me at work; would she let the time lapse so she wouldn’t have to see me here either? I tried not letting ‘Ms. Cold Stone Stare’ further unnerve me but it was difficult since I was stuck in a very small cubicle with nowhere to go. Some of the fiercest players in lacrosse had stared me down without causing me as much as a twitch, but this lady put them all to shame.

  Finally, with only eight more minutes of visitor time left a door on the other side of the cubicle opened and Carried stepped through. My first clue in knowing something was wrong with her was her hair; it was down around her face. In fact, it covered almost the entire right half of her face. My gut clenched as my imagination ran wild.

  There was a frown on her face when she looked at me, but it wasn’t in annoyance. It was confusion and distress. Walking up to the glass she positioned herself so that the hair covered side of her face was away from me.

  “Nic, what are you doing here?” She asked, twisting her hands together.

  Man, I loved her hair down, but not now when I just knew it was hiding something. I walked up close to the glass. “I’ve been giving you a ride home for days now just to make sure you got home safe. You may have ditched me and took the bus but it didn’t mean I still wasn’t going to see you home safely. Only you didn’t go home. Why are you here, Carrie?” My eyes moved over the concealed side of her face.

  She noted my stare. Her head tilted down further and her hand came up to smooth her hair down. On closer inspection of her exposed cheek I noticed that she had on foundation. Carrie didn’t wear make-up, she didn’t need make-up. A rage deeper than when Curt had cornered Carrie built inside of me, and it took everything I had not to let it show on my face. This place wasn’t the ideal place to display fits of anger.

  Carrie shifted and her eyes flickered away from mine. “My mom and I had a disagreement and we’ve decided it was time I moved out. I’ve been in contact with the college and I’m going to be moving into the dorms but it’s going to take a few days to get everything ready with the paperwork. This is as good a place as any to go while I wait for them to get everything completed.”

  Her mom had kicked her out! Why, because she had come home late Saturday, or rather early Sunday? Had her mom hit her?

  “Carrie, you didn’t have to come here. You could have come to my house or Amanda would have loved to help you out.”

  She shrugged and threw me a strained smile. “It’s not bad here, and it’s only for a few days.”

  “Why didn’t you let me drive you today?” I asked directly.

  Carrie’s face flushed and her eyes flickered away again. “Nic, there’s a lot going on in my life right now. I’m going to be really busy with moving and other stuff and I think it would be best if you and I…” I saw her swallow and she gave me a sad smile. “We probably shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  She was so easy to read, her face was almost childlike in its expressiveness. I could see she was trying to push me away because of her circumstances. I’d gotten angry before because she was pushing me away when I didn’t know why, but now I did, and it wasn’t going to work.

  “Two more minutes.” Cold stone stare reported over the intercom.

  “I’m going to let this sit tonight because there’s nothing I can do, but I’m picking you up for school tomorrow. I know you have class at eight so I’ll be here at seven-thirty bright and early.” I declared firmly.

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “Nic, it would really be better if you…”

  I interrupted her. “Carrie, you can skip out on me again but I will eventually corner you so we might as well get it over with. Tomorrow, seven-thirty.”

  Reluctantly I turned and walked out of the building. I really didn’t want to leave her here; it felt like I was abandoning her, but if I made any kind of protest it would probably only get me arrested. Conversely, the only reason I wasn’t going to be thrown in jail was the assurance of knowing she was in one of the safest places she could be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carrie

  I was outside the women’s shelter the next morning waiting for Nic to arrive. His unyielding tone last night told me he wouldn’t let it go. He would corner me to find out what he wanted. I really didn’t want to involve him in my crap fest, but I didn’t know what to do. Should I be cruel to get him to go away? Could I be cruel was a better question?

  It was difficult for me to be mean to people I didn’t like; I couldn’t see myself being nasty to him.

  Nic’s truck pulled up to the curb where I stood. I took a deep breath and reached out to open the door but it was locked. The next second Nic was standing beside me.

  “You weren’t looking.” He said. Clicking a button on his key remote he unlocked the door and opened it for me.

  He could always make me smile. “You caught me.” I acknowledged. He was always striving to open doors for me but I just wasn’t used to it and went about it myself. I didn’t even realize guys still did that.

  Taking my elbow he assisted me up into the truck, but instead of stepping back to shut the door he stepped closer and lifted his hand to my face. I stiffened and tilted my head away at the thought of him seeing my cheek. The woman’s shelter had offered me some make-up to cover up most of the bruising, but the cut was still clearly visible.

  I still wore my trusted beanie cap but my hair was unbound under it; the cap helped to keep my hair in place over my cheek. Nic threaded his fingers gently through my hair lifting it away from my face. His expression went stony at seeing the cut and covered bruise but his touch was gentle as it caressed over my cheek.

  “I love seeing your hair loose, but not so that it can hide this, and I know the make-up on the other side is covering something else.”

  I looked away awkwardly. “It’s really not that bad.”

  “I don’t like seeing bruises on you.” He said irately.

  My gaze flew back to him; he was mad that I was hurt? My throat clogged up and my eyes stung. “Nic, truly, I’m okay.” I said weakly.

  His eyes gazed into mine intently. “I doubted it.” He stepped back and closed the door.

  I buckled in as Nic walked around to the driver’s side. After buckling in he put the truck in gear. He gave me a sidelong look.

  “Did your mother do that to you?” He asked a hard tone.

  Uhgg, what to say? I didn’t want to lie, and what story could I come up with anyway. Tripping and falling was too cliché. “My mother and I have a complicated history. When I came home early Sunday morning she was angry that I’d stayed out all night.” I sighed and brought my hand up to my face. “She slapped me and it caused me to stumble into a door frame. That’s how I got the cut on my face.”

  Nic’s lips had thinned to a hard line as he maneuvered through traffic. “She slapped you so hard that she left a bruise on your cheek and then the force of it knocked you into a door. Then to top it all off she kicked you out of the house. What kind of complicated history could you possibly have that would cause her to treat you this way? Has she hit you before?”

  My heart stuttered in reaction to his question. I looked out the window and regulated my breathing. “No, this was the first time she ever hit me. Typically she ignores me. The history has to do with my…father, but that’s all I can tell you.” I answered, barely able to get that word out.

  I could feel his
concerned gaze on me no doubt remembering how I’d freaked out the last time we’d discussed that subject. It had taken a lot for me to divulge that much.

  “Okay,” he responded simply. His hand reached for mine and I sighed; I’d missed his warm hands.

  “I want you to understand something.” Nic squeezed my hand. “I don’t want you avoiding me again. I’m here for you and if there’s some drama going on in your life I want to help you with it.”

  I grimaced. He thought I’d avoided him because of my mom. “Nic, I didn’t avoid you because of what happened with my mom.” I fiddled agitatedly with my hair. “There are some things in my past…It could cause you some embarrassment or even damage your reputation, personal and athletic.”

  He threw me a confused frown and I took a deep breath. “I was in a mental institution for a year in my early teens.” Nic’s eyes widened in astonishment and I hurried on. “I’m not crazy or anything…something happened and I needed the help of certain specialists.”

  “That’s where you learned to do your breathing exercises, isn’t it?” Nic asked.

  “Yes. I get overwhelmed sometimes and it helps me calm down.”

  “What would happen if it didn’t work?” Nic’s brows knitted in concern.

  “I used to pass out.” I continued when his face became alarmed, “but I haven’t in a while.”

  “Why do you think something like that would harm me?” Nic asked with a scoff.

  I looked at him in miserable frustration. “I was in a mental hospital…A bad thing happened that caused me to go there…If I’m hanging around with you someone could find out and then your name would be attached to it too. It could damage your lacrosse career.” I didn’t add the ‘duh’, but it was implied.

  “First of all, lacrosse isn’t as well known as some other sports so I doubt it would make that big of a splash. Secondly, if someone actually did care enough to go snooping publicity normally adds more hype to a career. Thirdly, I don’t give a damn what other people think.” Nic pulled into a parking space in front of the building to my first class.