by RB Hilliard
“Maybe not, but I’m asking,” he quickly responded.
“Why?”
“Because I care.” I shot him a look of disbelief, and he continued, “I care, Rowan. I may not have my head on straight right now, but don’t mistake that for not caring. I –I promised Mom that I wouldn’t quit. I need to do this for her…and for me. I know it’s selfish, but it’s two weeks. Please…stay.”
“And then what, Nash?” I didn’t mean to challenge him, but it slipped out.
“I come home, and we figure shit out.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, all I’m asking is for you to wait.” I felt his discomfort, tasted his pain. We were together, yet apart, and I was caught between wanting to run and needing to stay. I could feel myself starting to cave.
“Will I hear from you?” His lips lifted into a small smile. It was the first I’d seen in three days and it made me feel victorious.
“Every day,” he answered without hesitation.
“Can we talk about what happened?” In the blink of an eye his smile disappeared, and the walls were back up.
“No.”
“Why not?” A part of me said don’t push, but a bigger part said screw it. We needed to talk about what happened. If we didn’t, it would be over before it even started.
“I’m not ready.”
Well, I am,” I countered.
“God, Ro. Can’t you see how hard this is for me? I’m literally drowning in guilt, here.” His words made no sense.
“What in the world do you have to feel guilty about?”
His brow shot up in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I had no idea where he was going with this, but I sure as hell wanted to hear it.
“My mother was downstairs dying while I was up here,” he swept his hand dramatically across the room, “fucking you!” I felt as if I’d been gut punched. Before I could respond, he was out the door. Surprise, hurt, and anger…burn-the-house-down kind of anger, swept through me.
Is that what he thinks? That’s what’s been eating him alive? Stupid man. I rushed down the hall after him. When I got to his room, he was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.
His eyes lifted to mine, and I blasted him. “First of all, it wasn’t just a fuck for me, so thanks for that. Second, your mother was alive both before and after we slept together, so you can rest assured that your,” I flicked my eyes to his crotch and then back to his face, “penis didn’t kill her. If you want to feel guilty about something, feel guilty about treating me like shit for the past three days. Have a nice trip, Nash.” I turned and stormed out of his room.
“Rowan!” he called down the hall after me. Instead of turning to see what he wanted, I held up my middle finger. Nash Bostwick could kiss my ass.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. As I lay there tossing and turning, our fight played over and over again in my mind. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Nash loved his mother more than anything in the world. I was hurt because he’d belittled what we’d shared together, but this really wasn’t about us. This was about him coming to grips with his mother’s death.
At some point, I must have drifted to sleep, because when I woke, the sun was peeking through the curtains. After brushing my teeth, I threw on a sweatshirt and made my way downstairs to talk to him. Only, he wasn’t there.
Sitting on the table was a piece of paper with two words written on it. Please Stay.
With a heavy heart, I carried my cup of coffee into the living room, where I curled into Maeve’s favorite chair and cried. Maeve was gone. Nash was gone. And I was all alone with nothing but my broken heart and a shit pile of regrets.
The next few days were rough. I was an emotional basket case. It didn’t help that Nash hadn’t bothered to call or text. I picked up my phone a million times to text him, but each time I talked myself out of it. He needed space, and no matter how much I hated it, I needed to give it to him. So I scoured the kitchen and bathrooms, read the newspaper from front to back, and even started reading one of Maeve’s Romance novels. The fact that it took place on a planet named Zorg was a little disconcerting, but it helped to pass the time. What I did not do was call Nash.
When Mallory called to invite me to lunch the next day, I almost cried. By the time we hung up, we’d planned the entire day. Not only were we going to lunch, but we were also going shopping. I was thrilled to be getting out of this house. Maybe she would have some tips on how to handle Nash, because clearly I wasn’t doing so well.
That night, as I was crawling into bed, my phone buzzed. When I saw that I had a text message from Nash, my heart skipped a million beats. Before reading what it said, I closed my eyes and made a wish. Please, let this not be the end. Then I opened my eyes and read it.
Nash – I’m Sorry.
His message was short and sweeter than I’d ever imagined. There were a million things I wanted to say, but in the end, only one thing mattered. I was sorry, too. So that’s what I wrote.
Rowan – Me, too.
He didn’t text again that night, but at least I knew that he was thinking about me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, and, for the first time since Maeve’s death, I slept through the night.
The next morning I woke with the same smile on my face. After a quick shower, I threw on some sweats and padded downstairs to make coffee. While waiting for the coffee to brew, I thought about Nash’s text, and wondered if I’d read too much into it. It was kind of hard to read too much into two words, but he had a lot to be sorry about. As I mulled over his text, I poured my cup of coffee. On the way to the stairs, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I took a few steps back to see what it was, and froze. There, sitting in Maeve’s favorite chair, was my worst nightmare.
“Good morning, Gillian,” he drawled. I blinked in surprise, and then I was running. In a flash, he was after me. Hot coffee scalded my hand, and I turned and hurled it at him. As I bounded up the stairs, I chucked the coffee cup at him. He laughed when it whizzed past his head and crashed against the wall. Right as I reached my bedroom door he caught up with me. I shrieked in both anger and fear as he tackled me to the ground. “Got you,” he whispered in my ear, and I froze underneath him. “It has been a fun little game of cat and mouse, hasn’t it? Did you like the picture? How about the rose? I have to admit, I was sorry to see the old broad go. Now there was a woman with spunk.” My head swam with the implications of his words. I opened my mouth to scream, and he slammed his hand over my mouth. His ring sliced into my lip and I grunted in pain. He dipped his head as if to kiss me, and I jerked back. I screamed when he wrenched my head sideways. “Night. Night,” he whispered against my ear. Then he plunged a needle deep into my neck. His hateful eyes seared through me as his hand muffled my screams. Right before my world went dark, his words sank in.
It was never Nash’s stalker. It was mine.
Chapter Fifteen
Harsh Realities
Nash
I left Austin to escape. I told myself that I needed space from Rowan. I lied. I was running from my inability to deal with being left behind. As I scattered my mother’s ashes to the wind I tried to make sense of it all. I couldn’t. How she could be alive one moment and drifting across my backyard in a dusty cloud the next was incomprehensible to me. Her death had left a mile-wide hole in my heart, and I wanted someone to blame. No, I needed someone to blame. Rowan was ripe for the picking. In a matter of six hours she’d gone from lover to liar. Her innocence didn’t matter, because she’d already been tried and found guilty in the only place that mattered, my heart.
And then she confronted me. Not only that, but she marched her sexy ass into my bedroom, and forced me to listen to what she had to say. She made me feel when all I wanted was to dwell in numbness. As much as I wanted to cut her loose, I couldn’t, because I knew in my gut that it would be the worst mistake I’d ever made. Did the realization of that make me stay? Hell no. Like a pussy with his tale tucked between his legs
, I ran. And now I regretted it. Last night I even texted and told Rowan I was sorry. I planned on calling her, but then Chaz lost the stupid video game against Evan and completely blew his cool. By the time Grant and I calmed his ass down, I’d lost my nerve.
I glanced down at my watch and wondered if I had enough time to call her before the show. Fuck it, I thought as I pulled my phone from my back pocket and dialed her number. Five rings later, her voicemail picked up. “Hi, Ro, it’s me. We’re about to go on, but I wanted to call you first. We need to talk. Call me back. I want to hear your voice.” Before I made a complete fool of myself, I ended the call.
“It’s about time you called her,” Grant teased. He was sitting next to me with his feet propped on the coffee table, his head resting against the back of the sofa, and his eyes shut. If I’d known he was awake, I wouldn’t have left that message.
“Who’s he calling?” Chaz asked from across the room, his voice muffled due to the fact that his head was buried in the refrigerator.
“None ya!” I yelled back at him.
“Is it the nurse, because she was hot!” he continued as if I hadn’t just shut him down. Grant smirked, and I shot him a dirty look.
“Rowan seems like a very nice person,” Evan added.
“What is this, an intervention?” I growled.
Grant’s brow shot up. “Hmmm, seems familiar. Kind of like what happened to me. Only, in my case it was completely unfounded.” Evidently he was still holding a grudge.
“Grudge much?” Chaz called out, and I shot Grant a knowing smile.
He ignored both of us. “Let me just say this, and then I promise not to mention it again. The worst mistake I ever made was when I almost let Mallory go. You’re messed up over Maeve’s death. You want someone to blame, but that girl is not it. Anyone with eyes can see how much she loved Maeve, and how much she loves you. So you can continue to be a dumb fuck, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now that I’ve said my piece, are we ready to rock?”
“Yee-bob,” Evan hooted.
I gave Grant a nod of acknowledgement that I’d heard him. Then I checked my phone again. Damn. The screen was blank. Rowan was avoiding me, and with good cause, but how was I supposed to apologize if she wouldn’t talk to me?
“Fifteen minutes to show time!” Blane called from the dressing room doorway.
Grant was right. I was a dumbass, and as soon as we were done with tonight’s show, I was going to make sure that Rowan knew it.
“Uh, Nash?” I glanced up from my phone to see intern Maggie standing in front of me.
“Hi, Maggs. What’s up?” The moment I asked, my phone pinged with an incoming message. I checked to see if it was Rowan.
“Uh, I was just wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me after the show.” It was a text message from John, our family lawyer, telling me that he wanted to speak to me about Mom’s will.
I held up my finger for her to wait, and dialed his number. He answered on the second ring. “Hi, John, it’s Nash Bostwick. What’s wrong with Mom’s will? I thought you said that everything was pretty much straightforward?” I listened to him explain how two months ago Mom had added Rowan to her will. Evidently, she’d given Rowan her interest in the house that we’d purchased together. John said that he’d left Rowan a voicemail earlier today, but hadn’t heard back from her. That made two of us.
“It’s show time!” Blane called out.
“Listen, John. I have to go. I’ll be home in two weeks. Can it wait until then?” He said yes, and then asked me to have Rowan contact him. After telling him I would, I hung up. Then I laughed my ass off. My mother was one sneaky bitch.
“What’s so funny?” Grant asked as we lined up at the door.
“It looks like Maeve is already haunting my ass from the grave.”
He laughed. “As if you expected anything less. Do tell.”
“Our attorney, John, just called. Apparently Mom left Rowan her half of the house.”
“You gave your mother half of your house?” Evan asked.
“Mom insisted in jointly purchasing the house if she was going to live there. I wanted to buy it outright, but, as usual, she was bull headed and wouldn’t move in otherwise. According to John, she changed her will two months ago to leave her part to Rowan. With Maeve’s death, Rowan now jointly owns the house with me.” Grant shook his head, and Evan laughed.
“My mom would have figured out a way to sell her half for pills or booze,” Chaz joked. Only, it wasn’t funny. It was sad. Before anyone commented, he released a loud fart, and shouted, “Meltdown is in the fucking house!” Then he marched out the door.
“Now, that’s what I call deflection,” Evan stated.
As we followed Chaz toward the stage, Grant asked, “And you wonder why he has no friends?” As far as I was concerned, it was pretty damn clear.
We rushed the stage in our usual out-of-control fashion, and the crowd went wild.
“How the hell are you, New Jersey?” Grant shouted. The arena exploded with cheers, and we were off and running.
I checked my phone right before our first encore, and was disappointed to find that Rowan hadn’t called me back. Nor had she responded to my text messages. As we stepped back onto the stage, I had a thought… a very disturbingly awful thought. What if Rowan had left? Surely this wasn’t the case, but then why wasn’t she answering my calls or texts? To leave me hanging wasn’t her style. Take last night for example. Even though she was probably still angry with me, she’d responded to my text. Then again, it would have been super shitty of her not to respond to my apology, even if it was lame. So what had happened between then and now? Grant shot me a what-the-hell look. I managed to force back the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and focus on the final encore of the night.
The moment we hit the dressing room, Chaz snarled, “What the hell, Nash? Are you trying to fuck up the band?”
“What? No. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” Even to my ears my reply sounded lame.
He gave me that Chaz look, the one he gives right before he says something really dickish and uncalled for. “What’s wrong? Is it your nurse? Stupid bitch. I told you to cut her loose.” His words felt like daggers. Without thinking, I reared back and punched him in the face. He went down like a sack of potatoes.
“He deserved it,” Hank said from behind me.
“Fuck yeah he did. I’m not in the mood for this tonight. Can you or one of the guys drive me back to the hotel?”
“Sure, I’ll have Marcel take you.” I couldn’t find Grant or Evan, so Hank said he’d tell them I’d left.
Right as we were approaching the hotel entrance, my phone rang. When I saw that it was Grant and not Rowan I felt like chucking it out the window.
Instead I hit the answer button, and said, “He deserved it.”
“I will not argue, but that’s not why I’m calling. I just talked to Mallory. She said that she was supposed to go to lunch and shopping with Rowan today, but when she got to your house to pick her up, Rowan wasn’t there.” My heart slammed against my chest.
“What do you mean she wasn’t there?” Marcel pulled into a parking space and put the car in park. Then he turned and gave me a questioning look. I held my hand over the phone and explained. “Marcel is here. I’m putting you on speaker,” I told Grant.
“Mal said that Rowan didn’t answer the door. She looked through the front windows, but couldn’t really see anything.”
“But she did say that Rowan was expecting her, right?”
“Yes, she said they both were looking forward to it.” Something didn’t feel right. And why were we just hearing about it now?
“Why didn’t Mallory call you sooner?” I questioned.
“She did, but I missed the call. We’ve been playing phone tag all day.” I didn’t know what to think. None of this made any sense.
“Do you want me to contact the security company?” Marcel asked. I shot him an appreciative look. At least someone w
as thinking on their feet. I sure as hell wasn’t.
“Good idea. We’re on our way back to the hotel right now,” Grant stated.
“You should stay. Chaz was right. I was all over the place tonight. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”
“Chaz is a dick and you were fine tonight. He’s lucky all he has is a bruised face. Have Marcel make the call. We’ll be there in fifteen, and don’t worry, Chaz isn’t with us. He’s with Paula.”
Once we hit the suite, Marcel checked in with the security company, while I paced a hole in the carpet.
“They’re checking the footage and calling us back,” he announced, once he’d hung up. After the longest fifteen minutes of my life, the phone rang. From what I could glean from the conversation, the cameras had picked up a man lurking outside my house. What the hell? All sorts of crazy shit raced through my head, and none of it was good. Grant, Evan, Hank, and Sampson walked in while Marcel was getting the information.
Grant took one look at me, and asked, “What?” I didn’t know what to tell him. All I knew was what I’d heard.
Marcel disconnected the call, and said, “Security is heading over there right now. A quarter after nine this morning, the back patio camera picked up the image of a man. It only captured his profile, but from what the technician said, it looked as if the guy slipped or something and accidentally fell into the line of sight.”
“What about the inside cameras?” I asked.
“It appears they were disabled at nine twenty-one, and have not been turned back on.”
“Fuck!” I screamed.
“Look, for all we know, Rowan knows this guy. Maybe he made a surprise visit and she blew Mallory off?” Marcel’s words seared through me. Rowan was mine. She knew it, and I knew it.
“No, no, no, no, NO!” I shouted.
Hank, who’d been quietly watching the whole thing, asked, “What are we missing, Nash?” I felt myself breaking apart. What had I done?
“I left her there!” I slapped my hand across my chest. “Shit got heavy, and I left her there alone, and now…FUCK!”