by Lane Hart
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nate
By the time I get back to Havoc Thursday afternoon, it’s been a long ass day, and I feel terrible.
Poor Mrs. Hargrove. Thinking of never seeing her again and imagining what her family is going through is still making me feel ill. I just want to crawl into bed and go to sleep, hoping this was a shitty nightmare when I wake up. Except, I don’t have a bed anymore. I refuse to mourn the loss of my stupid possessions after a lady lost her life, but there is still a decision I have to make, like where the fuck I’m gonna live. Since I’m sure Alyssa isn’t ready for me to crash with her, I’ll probably end up staying with my parents. After practice, I’ll worry about all that shit.
More important than that is there’s a man roaming around town who tried to kill me.
The apartment did have video surveillance, showing someone who looked a helluva lot like Richard Tillman at the apartment late at night, pouring gasoline on the wooden corridors, breezeways and stairs on the second floor before heading to the parking lot and launching several Molotov cocktails into the windows of my apartment.
Cowardly son of a bitch.
They never should’ve let that fucker out of jail, and now a nice old lady is dead because of him.
I take my anger and aggression out on the punching bags and sparring partners for the next few hours, but it doesn’t seem to help. Only the sight of Alyssa and Grayson walking into the gym persuade my racing heart to calm down and the tension in my body to relax.
“Hey,” I say when I walk over to them. Alyssa throws her arms around me even though I’m drenched with sweat.
“Hey,” she says softly next to my ear before pulling away. “Grayson, why don’t you head on to class, and I’ll be in there soon,” she tells him.
“Okay,” he says, pushing up his glasses and looking at me thoughtfully. “I’m sorry your home burned down.”
“Thanks, buddy. I appreciate that,” I tell him, rubbing a hand over his closely shaved head.
“Does that mean you’ll be staying at our house more?” he asks.
“Ah, well, no. I’ll find somewhere else to live,” I explain.
“Oh, that’s too bad because our house is safer when you’re there.”
Holy shit, this guy doesn’t pull any punches.
Squatting down to get on his eye level, I tell him, “I think your mom makes sure your house is very safe. But if you think of a way we can make it safer, then let me know; and we’ll see what we can do, okay?”
“Okay. Mom, can we get a dog?” he turns to Alyssa and asks. Her jaw falls open, not seeing that one coming.
“Oh, well, ah, maybe. Would that make you feel better?” she asks.
“Yes. I want a big one, like a German Shepherd.”
“Good choice. Those are really smart and great guard dogs,” I tell him, offering him a fist bump that he hits.
“I can’t wait!” he exclaims.
“We haven’t decided anything yet, but I’ll think about it,” Alyssa says as I straighten. “Now hurry before you’re late for class.”
“Okay! See you later, Nate!” he calls out before jogging over to the training room.
“Can we go to your office and talk?” Alyssa asks right away, telling me what she has to say isn’t good news.
“Sure,” I tell her, grabbing her hand just because I want to touch some part of her as I lead the way to my office. “So what did you find out?” I ask after I shut the door behind us, muting the sounds of the gym.
“Tillman’s son was gay, and although I didn’t get proof, I think Chemistry had something to do with it,” she says as she leans against the front of my desk.
“Well, that’s something, but doesn’t explain why he hates gay people.”
“He was a preacher. His son was in the closet. And based on what his friend said about him, I don’t think he committed suicide.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “You think he killed his own son because he was gay?”
“Yes. But there’s more…” she trails off.
“What else?” I ask.
“I think he may have been responsible for the wreck that killed Eli,” she says. One sentence, but it manages to turn my world upside down.
Somehow I’m able to sit my ass down in the guest chair without hitting the floor.
“Why?” I ask, not entirely sure if I mean why she thinks such a thing or why someone would do something so fucking cruel.
“There were other accidents on the same day for the last few years, and the one before,” she says, and then I vaguely hear her describe the details of the other people who were hurt, all gay men, all on the same date, none of the assailants ever arrested. Because Richard Tillman didn’t have a record and was a preacher. No one would suspect him.
“Have you told all this to Sergeant Bradley?” I ask.
“Yes. And he told me it was a close match on the apartment surveillance video,” she answers. “God, I’m so sorry to be the one telling you this, Nathan.”
“No, I mean, it sucks, but to have an explanation after all this time…” I shake my head in disbelief, thinking back to that night. “I had been drinking, so not all the details of before the accident are clear, but it never made sense why Eli would wreck.”
“Having answers is good,” Alyssa says, climbing on my lap to put her arms around me. “But it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the loss.”
I nod since I’m not sure what to say. Everything I’ve thought for years is being rearranged. I’ve blamed myself, and still do. But if that asshole is responsible for the accident, I want him dead. For Mrs. Hargrove and Eli, neither of whom deserved to die, especially not Eli for his sexuality…
“Holy shit,” I mutter, my arms freezing around Alyssa. “It was him, Tillman. That night at the bar I remember seeing him. I was drunk and slurring my words, but I even mentioned to Eli that a man was watching us, one with a beard. We thought he was interested, not that he was plotting.”
“It was Tillman? You’re certain?” she asks.
“Yes,” I assure her. My so-called photographic mind was foggy from alcohol, but I remember the beard, even the dark coat.
“We need to fill Bradley in on this tomorrow. And I know you have a lot going on, but have you decided where you’re gonna live?” Alyssa asks.
Blowing out a breath, I tell her, “Guess I’ll stay with my parents until I find another apartment. My dad’s about a smidge more tolerant than Tillman.”
“Grayson’s not the only one who likes having you stay with us,” she says, healing my broken heart a little more.
“Could I stay tonight?” I ask, because I don’t want to sleep alone.
“Sure,” she answers right away with a kiss to my neck. And I’m not sure what it is about dealing with death and loss, but the urge to hold Alyssa tight and bury myself inside of her is so strong my body physically aches not to be doing so right this very second.
…
Alyssa
Nate’s hurting, obviously, and I wish I could take all the pain away. All I can do though is be there for him and show him I care.
Without a doubt, I know I’m falling in love with him. There’s no other way to describe the pain I feel because of what he’s going through. His pain is my own, just like I feel when Grayson is sick or upset. There’s this insistent need to fix whatever is wrong, to make them happy again when they’re down.
It should seem wrong to use my body to help Nate heal, but it doesn’t. As we come together in the middle of the bed, not a shred of clothing between us, it feels necessary. It’s so right, the way his body feels on top of mine, the way our tongues stroke in a natural erotic rhythm, how he fills every empty inch of me. No words need to be exchanged.
We don’t let go of each other after it’s over, falling asleep still connected.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alyssa
My alarm goes off at the ridiculously early hour of six a.m. Because of rush-hour traffic, Gray
son and I have to leave a little before seven so he can get to school on time and I can arrive at work by eight-thirty.
“Stay,” Nate says against my ear. His hand sliding down my stomach and lower body pressed against my bottom make it clear what he has in mind if I were to hit the snooze.
“Can’t,” I tell him while contradicting my words by grinding my ass against his hard length. “Wish I could.”
“Me too,” he says, before slapping my ass. “Now get up before I hold you down and have my way with you.”
“Mmm,” I moan at the thought, but then the evil man jerks the covers off of me, the cold air hitting me like a brick wall, and swats my bottom again.
“Go, woman. My restraint is too weak to resist,” he tells me.
As soon as I’m out of bed, Nate’s sleepy eyes come open to watch me wander around the room, picking out my clothes for work.
“If we set the alarm fifteen minutes earlier tomorrow morning, would you let me fuck you before you get up?” he asks.
I smile at the thought of him staying overnight again and at his request.
“Maybe,” I answer from inside the closet, although I already know my answer. “Better get some more condoms to be ready.”
“Hell yes. Now I’m going back to sleep,” he says before rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.
Quickly getting my shower, I do my hair and make-up before waking Grayson up and fixing his breakfast. Once that’s done, I put on my clothes; and then we’re ready to go.
By then, Nate’s up, mostly awake, getting dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. He looks down at himself and then grumbles. Poor guy. I bet he only had a change of clothes in his locker.
“Wanna go shopping tonight?” I ask him since it’s Friday.
“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve got a gym bag in my truck with some clothes in it, and that’s all I have,” he says. “I need to try and get in touch with Mrs. Hargrove’s family and get a suit for the funeral.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you if you want,” I offer. “I’m sure Grayson can stay with my parents or Candice if it’s this weekend.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that,” he says. “She came over and checked on me a lot after Eli died, but never talked about him. She was just trying to take my mind off of everything.” Nate chuckles. “A few times she tried to set me up with random guys she met. And she had this stray cat, Tom, that she fed. Sometimes he would be sweet and let you pet him, and other times he was a dick and hissed at you. I wonder what happened to him if he’s still hanging around.”
“We can go by and try to find him if you want,” I tell him, squeezing his hand.
“Maybe. I probably need to go by and get pictures for insurance or whatever. God, this all sucks.”
“I know,” I tell him with a sigh. “We need to get going, but I’ll see you back here tonight, and we’ll go shopping, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll walk you out since I need to get to the gym, work out the frustration…”
Still holding my hand, we find Grayson in the living room with his backpack on, ready to go.
“Have a good day, kiddo. I’ll try to get those signed photos for you this weekend to take Monday,” Nate tells him.
“Thanks!” he says.
“No problem,” Nate replies as we open the front door and step outside, Grayson leading the way to the car.
I had no idea we would also be walking into every parent’s worst nightmare.
For an instant, I freeze in shock thinking it’s too surreal for this to be happening on such a sunny, beautiful winter morning.
But even after I blink, the man in a dark jacket with a salt and pepper beard is still standing in my yard holding my son. Not just any man. I recognize Richard Tillman’s face from his mugshot.
Nate, who was the last one out of the house and was shutting the front door, is the last to turn around and take in the scene. From the corner of my eye, I see his body stiffen in shock. And then everything seems to happen at once.
Grayson screams, and I think I may be yelling too as my feet finally start moving in his direction. Before I get there, Grayson kicks Tillman in his knee so hard he stumbles. And with a slam of Grayson’s small palm to his nose, he catches him off guard enough that he loosens his hold on Grayson for him to run to me. As soon as Grayson’s safely in my arms, Nate lunges for Tillman, right before Tillman makes a grab for the gun on his waistband. I don’t have time to even yell and warn Nathan before the two end up on the ground, wrestling for the weapon.
The loud, sudden explosion of the gun going off has me instinctively covering Grayson and taking him down to the sidewalk, while my mind tries to play catch up.
Oh God, Nathan!
Another shot rings out, and then there’s silence except for Grayson’s gasping breaths coming fast, his heart thudding against my chest. My eyes are squeezed shut, too afraid to look and see what happened.
I know I need to get my cell phone out of my purse and call 9-1-1, but I’m too scared to move, terrified to know…
A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I scream in fear.
“Shh…it’s over, kitten.”
Nathan!
“Oh, thank God!”
“Are you both all right?” he asks as I start to sob when his arms wrap around Grayson and me both. I nod in response to his question since I can’t speak yet. My heart is about to race out of my chest. I try to calm down, but I’m shaking all over as reality sets in.
We’re okay. All three of us are okay.
The sound of sirens approaching relaxes me a little more knowing help is on the way, although it’s no longer needed. My hero has already saved the day.
“Cool, the police are here!” Grayson says excitedly, not sounding the least bit fazed by the traumatic experience he just survived.
“You were so brave, sweetie,” I tell him, kissing the top of his head before I finally relax my crushing grip on him.
“I just did what we learned in class,” he says with a shrug. “Do you think the policeman will let me ride in his car?”
“Sit tight while I talk to them first, okay?” Nate asks, kissing my cheek. “And don’t let him see…”
“Okay,” I reply in understanding.
I feel the loss of his touch as soon as he pulls away and walks toward the police cars. It’s more than knowing I nearly lost him. Nate makes me feel cared for and protected. I crave the response my body has to him, needing more of the amazing sensation.
“Let’s go talk to the policeman about giving you a ride,” I eventually tell Grayson, wanting to get him further away from the man who is either dead or dying a few feet away based on the way the emergency responders are rushing around us.
Half an hour later, despite the trauma of almost being hurt by a stranger, Grayson said he wanted to go to school, so one of the officers offered to drive him in his cruiser. I told him to call me if he changed his mind and wanted to take the afternoon off.
Tillman was pronounced dead before the ambulance left for the hospital; and since then, Nate has been on his cell phone talking to a criminal defense attorney Jude’s sister-in-law found for him on short notice and talking to detectives. I sit quietly on the front stoop, watching as the crime scene investigators take pictures and gather the gun as evidence in my front yard. They also wanted Nate’s shirt and jacket since it had blood on it, so I brought him some of Austin’s clothes I had still hanging in the closet. Maybe I should feel guilty about seeing another man in my dead husband’s clothes, but I don’t. It’s time to let Austin go and move on as much as I can since every time I look at my son I think of him and how much Grayson favors him with the same eyes and hair.
Eventually, hours later, the police thankfully start packing everything up. Neighbors go about their business. I’ve already talked to Candice and told her I wouldn’t be in today. She offered to come over, but I told her we were fine. I know she wanted to stay there to run the story.
Nate strolls silentl
y over and takes the seat beside me on the porch stoop, looking deflated. I lean my head on his shoulder and slip my hand in his to give it a supportive squeeze.
“You okay?” I ask when he still doesn’t say a word.
“I killed him,” he murmurs so softly I barely hear it.
“It was an accident. Self-defense. He could’ve just as easily killed you,” I tell him. “Or Grayson.”
“No, Alyssa. I killed him. After I took his gun, I could’ve tossed it away, but I didn’t. Instead, I pulled the trigger because I wanted him dead.”
“Oh,” I mutter in surprise. It all happened so fast that I couldn’t really tell what happened. “Is that what you told the police?” I ask.
“Not exactly. The attorney I talked to said to only tell them we fought over the gun, and it went off.” Turning toward me, he grips my shoulders, holding me at arm's length so he can see my face. His looks so sad and distraught that I wish I could kiss it all away. “I wanted you to know the truth because I can live with his blood on my hands. I’m just not sure if you can, and it would eat me up to keep something like that from you.”
Reaching for his face, I rub my fingertips over his unshaven golden-red scruff and tell him what I should’ve already said. “You’re brave and humble, sexy and sweet, kind and generous, intelligent with a great sense of humor, and I can’t imagine a better man for my son to look up to. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m lucky to have you. You’re a fierce protector with a big heart, so don’t ever feel guilty about what happened. Anyone who knows you would say without a doubt that it’s impossible for you to hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Nathan’s lips twitch into a small smile before his fingers thread through my hair to slant his mouth over mine, kissing me softly, sweetly before he says, “If I didn’t love you before, I do now.”
“I love you, too,” I tell him, smiling against his lips. “And I don’t know about you, but I think I need a vacation.”
“Come to Florida with me. Grayson could miss a few days of school after the new year, right?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“After the tournament, we could go to some theme parks in Orlando. I mean, you don’t have to watch the fights since I know you’re not a fan of the violence as a sport…”