by T K Barber
He laughed and shook his head against the wheel. How was such a level of torment possible? He left his head on the steering wheel but turned his face to her.
“Nice, huh? Does earlier count as 'nice'?”
A smirk hit the side of his mouth even through his heartache. She ran her tongue over her canine and grinned back.
“Beyond nice. But I was thinking more along the lines of popcorn.”
He lifted his head and frowned in thought. “Popcorn? Like, go to a movie?”
She shook her head and straightened up in the seat, clicking the belt tight.
“No. Just popcorn. Maybe some TV. Something normal couples dooo, eh, you know what I mean.” She tucked several strands of hair behind her ear, laughed at herself, then picked at her thumbnail.
He studied her beautiful face, dying inside but unable to scream for help.
He wanted that more than he wanted to breathe. His eyes burned again, and he closed them tightly before looking out at the road.
Could he do that now? Could he just go home and watch TV with her? He cranked the truck and took a deep breath.
No.
He couldn't.
It had already gone on longer than it should have. Kissing her on the sidewalk was a mistake. He grimaced.
Goddamnit, no it wasn't. It was perfect and fantastic and he'd never take it back. Especially since he’d likely die alone at this point.
Nausea pooled in his stomach, and he fought to breathe. Too much. Too much to handle. He had to let her go. That way if she ever found out, it wouldn't cut her quite as deep. Hopefully.
“Scarlet . . . I . . .”
COWARD! He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want this pit of despair to swallow him whole!
“ . . .would like that. That sounds fun.”
A warm, happy smile spread across her face, and his stomach dropped further. He swallowed the acid that hit the back of his throat and put the truck in gear.
“Great! But we need to go back to my house, so I can get a few things. If I'm staying with you. I don't want to sleep in my clothes or wear the same thing tomorrow.” She grinned widely at him. “You can keep guard at the main door, right? That should be enough. I can't imagine anyone shifty would get past you.” She winked and fussed with the hem of her skirt.
He breathed in deeply and managed a smile.
“Okay. Yeah. That should be good. You have to tell me where it is, though.”
She laughed and tucked another piece of hair behind her ear. He never saw any out of place, but she kept finding them.
“I forgot you didn't know. We skipped right over first, second, and third dates, huh? It's not far from here, over the bridge. Through the old mill district.”
Dates.
The idea of a date with her was wonderful and terrifying. Something normal. He'd never have that now, how could he?
He drove in a daze, lost in thought. And steadily losing the battle for his soul.
Scarlet
Why was he being so quiet?
His devastated expression broke her heart, and she couldn’t look away as they crossed Tarsin Bridge.
Seeing her dad's body really did a number on him. She still couldn't believe her mom just up and asked about that. What a rude thing to do. Then to scold her about manners on top of that! Honestly.
She blew out a frustrated breath, and Nick glanced at her.
“How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “It was a lot harder than I thought it'd be. It flooded me with memories I hadn't thought about in years. Happy ones. I'm grateful I had him for as long as I did.” She threw her hand to her mouth and squinted apologetically. “That was awful of me to say. I'm really sorry about your Dad.”
She reached across the bench seat and put her hand on his thigh. He shot a look down and pinched his eyebrows before smoothing his face out and looking at her with a small smile. Did that bother him for some reason?
“It's okay, honestly. You can't miss what you never had. Even so, it was a little hard growing up, not having that figure.”
She patted his knee, and he put his hand over his mouth then glanced out the driver side window, before looking back at the road. He cleared his throat.
“But if you knew my Mom, you wouldn't blame him for not being around. She was,” he inhaled. “Horrible. Incredibly abusive, but especially so to Annalise. I tried to take as much of it as I could, but . . ." He trailed off, a shadow falling back over his face.
Scarlet scooted to the middle and put her hand back on his leg. “God, I'm so sorry! That's awful! Listen, you don't need to talk about it. I’m of course here for you if you do, but I didn't mean to pry.”
He glanced down at her. There was so much coming from his gaze, but none of it made any sense.
“No, it's okay. You're not prying. That's the kind of stuff. Couples. Know.”
He trailed off again and grimaced, but then smiled down at her, sadness still clinging to the corners of his eyes. “Gotta start somewhere, right?”
She returned it with an unsure one of her own.
That should have made her excited beyond words, but something was wrong. Something had changed.
They pulled up out front of her building and stopped, truck still running. The cab was silent while they sat in thought. A few seconds more passed before Nick cleared his throat.
“I'll be here when . . . you get done.”
There was another shift in the air when he frowned, and she swallowed down fear.
“Nick, look at me.”
He didn't.
She cleared her throat and crossed her arms tightly. “Don't,” she swallowed. “You're not going to leave me here, are you?”
His eyebrows jumped up, and he whipped his head around to face her.
She couldn't tell if he was shocked that she would think that, or shocked that she had figured it out. Her chest ached.
He held her gaze longer than she expected him to, and a shine formed on his eyes. He scrubbed his hand down his face and his entire, large muscled body shrank in the seat.
“Scarlet . . . this . . . I can’t.”
He covered his face with both hands before leaning his head back to look at the roof and cross his arms.
She panicked and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were so sad and scared that she had to swallow down her matching emotions.
“Yes, you can. You can't run forever. You can't run away from . . . me. From this. This is something. Something deep and real and you can't just throw it away because you're scared. I'm scared too, but that doesn't mean it's not worth trying!”
Despair washed over his features, and her own tears formed.
He was going to leave her. He was going to leave her there and drive away with her heart.
She scrambled to think of something, anything that would help. Finally, she remembered the problem in the first place.
“Steven might still come after me.”
He groaned loudly as he jerked his face out of her hands. “Damnit Scarlet, don't you think I know that?”
Stunned, her back hit the seat. That wasn't the reaction she was expecting at all.
He covered his face again and let out a single scoffing laugh. “That's why this is so hard.”
Being with her was hard? The right words, hell all words, escaped her. He dragged his hands down his face and glanced back at her.
“I don't have a good track record of keeping the people closest to me safe. Something always happens, and I can't stop it. So, with you, I'm screwed either way. Either I fail you when I'm with you, or I fail you when I'm not.”
She was stunned to silence again. He must have been talking about Annalise. How horrible to feel responsible for everything their mother did. Poor guy. But why did he think he would fail to keep her safe? As long as they were together, she knew for a fact he'd do a fantastic job.
She squee
zed his thigh with a smile, and he shot a look down and then at her.
“I don't believe that for a second. But, if you think you're going to fail either way,” she paused to gauge his reaction. "Why not do the one that makes you happiest?”
He sucked in a breath and froze. She maintained her smile; certain she'd finally solved the problem, and they could get back to their plans. He scoffed and shook his head at the roof.
“I don't deserve to be happy, Scarlet.” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, causing her to jump. “I don't get to be happy!”
She gasped and took his face in her hands again.
What could this poor man have been through in his life for him to think he didn't deserve to be happy?! What a horrible thing to feel!
She searched his eyes but couldn't decipher what she saw.
“Everyone deserves to be happy, Nick. Especially you! Especially someone so caring and protective. Someone so selfless. Especially someone who's going through what you obviously are!”
His face paled, and she couldn't tell what was brewing in his eyes, but she didn't like it. His brows knitted and those previously sexy hazel eyes shifted, glassing over as his nostrils flared. She pulled back a little and swallowed.
“Caring? Protective?” He let out a hysterical laugh and failed to shake his face free of her tightening grip. “That's the last thing I am, Scarlet. I'm a monster.”
“Nick, what the hell is wrong with you!? You are not! All you've done is—”
“I killed your dad, Scarlet!” His breaths were rapid and wild, like his eyes. “Do I still deserve happiness? Do I still deserve to be with you?”
Her world tilted.
And twisted.
And fell.
Her face froze in shock, and tears that should have sprung forth died in the wake of her breathlessness.
She snatched her hands away from his face and put them on her own.
His eyes went wide, and he covered his mouth, any previous expression replaced with raw terror. He muttered 'shit' behind his hand and under his breath.
She blinked.
There was no way he said that. He misspoke.
She blinked again.
He meant to say that he saw the accident. Or that he was the one that hit him with his car. Maybe that he didn't call the police right away when he should have, so he thought he was responsible. He . . . he didn't mean that.
She sucked in a deep, dizzying breath. Nick turned his face forward and sat motionless, staring out the front window, eyes blank and miles away.
She blinked again.
There was obviously some huge, comical misunderstanding that they would clear up over coffee.
There was no way Nick, her Nick, with his compassionate gaze and sexy, gruff voice could do something like that. No way the man that saved her life twice would take another. Certainly not the Nick that just revered her body like she was a goddess or laughed with her and Katelyn. Or handled her mother like a pro.
Someone like that could—could never . . .
He winced, and she watched in bizarre detachment as he exhaled, and stared out at the parking lot. Her breath escaped her in a short, quiet burst as her hands dropped to her lap.
She had too many questions to ask even one. She wasn't sure her brain could make the connection to her mouth. Finally, a syllable eked out on a tiny breath, nearly inaudible.
“How.”
He lowered his face to his hands and bit the words out. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to. I never wanted to!”
Dread and disgust pooled in her stomach. He didn't answer her question. She found more volume and cleared her throat, forcing room for her voice in the dryness of her mouth.
“How?”
“I didn't have a choice.” He continued, either not hearing her, or ignoring the question completely.
She finally found all her volume. And her rage. She clutched his arm and shook it, struggling to yank his hand away from his face.
“HOW NICK?! HOW DID YOU KILL HIM?!”
His muffled shout stabbed her soul.
“I SHOT HIM! In the heart. I shot him.”
She snatched her hand away from his arm and launched backward across the seat, clutching her stomach with one arm and slapped her other hand over her mouth.
She was asleep. She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn't real. This was a horrible nightmare, and when she woke up, she’d be in his room, in his arms, happy. She reopened them, and he was still there.
No.
He was wrong. He was mistaken. The coroner's report said her Dad died in a car crash. That's what her Mom said. They wouldn't lie. So, that meant either Nick was lying, or he was mistaken. He had to be mistaken. Why would he lie about something like that?
“No.”
Her calm voice surprised her, and she blinked several more times. He kept his face covered; breaths steady.
“I'll still watch out for you, Scarlet. I'll try to protect you. Try to keep Steven away from you, somehow.”
“No, you didn't. You're wrong.”
He finally pulled his hands away from his face and looked out toward the road.
“I'm sorry. It's not enough, but I'm sorry.”
Everything broke in her body. She went blind and couldn't breathe. Her tongue wouldn't work, neither would her heart. She couldn't feel her arms or her hands.
Then everything burned, white-hot as the sun.
She reached over and grabbed his shoulder. She snatched it with all her might, pulling him to the middle of the cab, the faint sound of fabric tearing muffled by her slamming heartbeats as she slapped him as hard as she could. His face bloomed with shock, then sorrow.
“No. You DIDN'T! You're WRONG, NICK!”
Her screams were choked by sobs, and she slammed her hands into his chest shoving him back. Then she did it again harder, as tears streamed down her face. He didn't fight back or move out of the way.
“Why would you LIE TO ME?!”
She sucked in air and gritted her teeth, biting back more sobs. Her entire being melting and cracking apart. Self-control became a pointless thing. He was wrong. He didn't do it.
“You're wrong! He,” a short breath in. “Died in the crash.” She could barely talk through the broken sobs that ripped from her chest. “Why?!”
She shoved him again as hard as she could and covered her face, weeping uncontrollably.
She wasn't crying because her father was dead. She was crying because her heart was dying.
He still hadn't moved or spoken, and her rage grew. She snapped her head up and looked at him through her soaked eyes.
She didn't know a person's face could be as heartbroken as his was. It looked physically painful, and the sight of it sucked the air from her lungs. She reached out to shove him again, but her hands grabbed his jacket instead, and she pulled him into a kiss. His eyes widened, and he started to pull back, but she broke the kiss first and shoved him again.
“Why Nick?! Why did you make me—”
She threw her fists to her temples and choked back more sobs. When she flung the door of the truck open she almost fell out, her legs weak from sadness. She slammed it shut with as much force as she could muster while screaming.
He was lying. Why?!
She stumbled into her building without a backward glance.
Each stair she climbed was a needle in her leg. Every heartbeat was broken glass, scraping her chest. Every tear, fire.
Walking became impossible, and she stopped in the middle of the second-floor lobby, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Why would he lie?
She squeezed her waist against the force of each guttural wail that pulled itself from her body. He didn't do it. Why would he do something like that? Why? She'd never felt such gut-wrenching heartbreak in her entire life. She was dying.
After several shaky breaths, she choked and straightened up, wiping as many tears away as sh
e could. She rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat.
She'd f—
Her eyes shot open as her hands flew up to clutch at the cloth over her mouth and nose before she blacked out.
Nick
The cab was silent. No more tears or screams. No sobbing, or questions, or anger.
No Scarlet.
The vacuum created by her absence was consuming.
His face still tingled. The pressure from her pounding fists still rested on his chest. The kiss on his lips still wrecked his emotions and his heart pounded like a drum out of time. He only thought the pain and sorrow earlier was more than he could handle.
But the universe took that as a challenge. And won.
“What the fuck have I done . . .”
He hadn't intended to tell her that. That went without saying really, but it slipped out before he even knew he'd said it.
The body that occupied his seat was a completely shattered human being. He wanted her. Part of him wished he'd never met her, and at the same time, he would sell his soul for a chance to fix everything.
He'd kill for it.
He gripped the steering wheel and closed his eyes as he blew out a slow, long breath. It was going to be so much harder to keep her safe if she wasn't with him. But he promised her, promised himself that he'd protect her.
He glanced in the rearview mirror as a black town car pulled away from the back corner of the parking lot.
This was the hardest thing he'd ever been through, and it kept getting harder. His heart burned, ached.
How long was he going to wait? Until tomorrow when she left for work? Would she even go back to work while Steven was there?
How would she feel if she came out and saw him still sitting there? Or anywhere in the parking lot for that matter? He couldn't just follow her around. Even though he would to make sure she was okay. The back of his head thudded on the headrest, and he took a few deep breaths.
The vibration from his phone made him jump. He blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the early evening sun. Then his stomach dropped and sweat beaded on his forehead.
Not now. Not now of all times. He didn't even want to think about having to kill someone else. Unless it was that Steven guy.