by Gwyn McNamee
“Hello?” My voice sounds shaky even to me. That’s a really fucking bad sign. I’ve trained myself to never give off any signals of weakness. In front of a jury…or judge…that could mean catastrophe.
But the caustic mix of guilt, dread, love, and pain has burned me from the inside out and shattered the very core of who I am.
And that one word was a dead giveaway of my fucking frailty.
“Mr. Hawke?”
Castillo’s voice is strong and unwavering…the exact opposite of mine.
Fuck.
I need to get my shit together. Immediately.
One sniff of weakness, and this man will devour me.
“Mr. Castillo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
He chuckles. “Oh, Mr. Hawke, let’s cut out the pleasantries. You know exactly why I’m calling.”
The blown up building that used to be one of Dom’s large warehouses immediately flashes into my mind. I do know exactly why he’s calling. To issue a warning.
“I assume this is in regard to our mutual acquaintance?”
“Yes. I just wanted to make sure we are on the same page, given all that’s occurred.”
On the same page.
I drop down into my chair and try not to snap when I reply, “What page would that be?”
“The one where you understand you are to stay out of my way. And where you assure me our mutual acquaintance understands the same. If things don’t get resolved, they could get very messy. And no one wants that. I think you agree on that front.”
No argument there. But I’m not really in a position to make Dom understand anything. He’s going to want to ensure the threat from Castillo is completely removed. And the only way that’s happening is if Castillo himself is gone.
It’s exactly what I had been trying to avoid when I had my sit-down with him. But he’s bound and determined to take over.
“Look, I can talk until I’m blue in the face, it doesn’t mean our mutual acquaintance will listen to me. And frankly, you started down this path knowing full-well the potential repercussions. My advice is to back off and hope our acquaintance forgives your transgressions.”
There’s momentary silence before Castillo lapses into an all-out fit of laughter. “Oh, Mr. Hawke, your naïveté is comical. It's time our friend realizes he is the past, and I am the future of the city. If he wants to get out of this in one piece, he will back off and maybe just retire in peace.”
Unlikely.
“I'll have a talk with him. But you and I both know, I can only do so much.”
“I appreciate your directness and honesty, Mr. Hawke. All I can ask is for you to make an attempt to keep things civil. I know you're a man of your word and will at least try. Let's just pray your words don't fall on deaf ears.”
Click.
He hangs up without another word.
Well, motherfucking shit.
Just one more wrench to throw into an already convoluted clusterfuck of a situation.
The danger to everyone is ramping up, and I can't help but shake the feeling that things are going to come to a head very soon and not in a good way. What was I thinking working with Dom? Did I really think I would be able to keep my hands clean and stay out of the crosshairs? I might as well have a fucking bull's-eye on my back now that it's publicly known that I'm working for him.
Cock sucking son of a bitch.
All I want to do is fix things with Nora, but this just confirms that I can't have her and keep her safe at the same time.
I can’t let her go though, not without apologizing before I say goodbye and she learns the truth and never wants to see my face again.
The very real desire to go snort a line tugs at me, and my knee bounces just thinking about it. But I don’t want to touch the stuff right now, not after what happened with Nora.
A pounding at the door prevents me from having to make that decision.
What are the chances it’s her?
Right now, I would welcome an enraged Nora. Nora in any capacity is better than the alternative.
But when I look out the peephole, it isn’t Nora. It’s just another fucking problem I don’t need to be dealing with right now.
The moment I open the door, Skye barges in past me and storms into the living room where she tosses her purse on the couch in a huff. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are blazing, and she narrows them at me. “We need to talk.”
“Skye, what the fuck is going on?”
She paces the room, frustration radiating off her. “Look, I don't want to have to do this, but you've reached a point here that I can't ignore anymore.”
I love Skye to death. She’s probably the only one in the family who truly gets me, but I haven’t the foggiest fucking clue what she’s talking about. I’ve barely even seen or talked to her since I've been back other than family dinners and an occasional text message here and there.
“I don't know what you’re freaking the fuck out about.”
She growls and fists her hands at her sides. “You've been avoiding me, and I know why.”
This should be good.
“What makes you think I’ve been avoiding you?”
Her eyes roll up in her head, and she offers me a wry smile. “Because I'm the only person who calls you out on all your bullshit.”
Well, she's not wrong about that, but I haven't been avoiding her, at least not intentionally. “What bullshit is that?”
She takes a deep breath. “Stone, I know you're using something. My guess is coke.”
FUCK!
“I knew you were on something at the wedding, and I let it fly because that was a stressful situation for all of us, and frankly, you didn't seem like you were out of control with it or anything that was worrisome. But since then, things have definitely changed.”
I step toward her and open my mouth to argue, but she stops me with a look and a raised hand.
“You look fucking haggard half the time, like you haven't slept in days. And looking back, there was other stuff, like you messing up at work and almost getting fired. You not wanting to come visit as much. And now that you’re back, you’re spending more and more time alone and with Dom.”
“Wait a second, that's not true. I just had lunch with Mom the other day.” And I didn’t want to come back because of Nora, not because I was partying every fucking night in San Diego.
“Yeah, and she called me and asked me what's going on with you because she said you were acting weird and asking questions about Dom and just being…well, weird.”
Was I acting weird with her? I don’t think so.
“And it started long before Gabe and Savage told you what happened with Dom, so you can't blame it on that.”
She's right, but she's also wrong. I’ve been using recreationally for a while and probably relying on it a little too much, but what’s been happening and what Dom told me has affected me more than I care to admit. I wish I could tell her everything so she’d understand, but now isn’t the time. Nora and Dani need to know first; I owe them that.
Skye needs to know I’m not out of control, and while I appreciate her concern, I need to set her straight, before this inquisition gets out of hand.
“Look, I'm not gonna lie and say that I don't enjoy a little pick me up when I'm partying or want to unwind or something. But it’s not like I use every day. I’m a recreational user, I'm not a fucking addict.”
She scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Stone, don't be a fucking idiot, I'm a nurse, for Christ’s sake. I understand what an addiction looks like, and maybe you're not a full-blown addict, but you're definitely using it as a crutch and we both know where that leads. You're too fucking smart for this shit, and you know that. Don't tell me you don't.”
My desire to argue with her is quelled by remembering what I said to Nora. And the fuck ups at work. And the urge to do a line I had been feeling right before Skye got here.
Fucking shit.
I hate to admit Skye might be r
ight. But there’s definitely some evidence to support her concern.
“It’s fine, Skye. I’m done.” I made that decision the moment I realized what I had done to Nora.
She narrows her eyes at me again. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
It may be easier said than done, especially with everything going on right now. But she needs reassurance. And I need a reminder that there’s a very real reason to stay away from what’s left in that vial in my desk. I should have fucking flushed it the moment Nora left.
“Don’t worry, Skye. I got this.”
Hopefully.
Setting aside everything else going on, it’s going to take a fucking act of God for Nora to even speak with me. And that’s all my fault. I can’t even blame the drugs.
I guess I should be praying.
Saint appears at the door to the changing room and leans against the jamb. His immense shoulders practically reach to the other side of the frame and his head grazes the top.
Dude is seriously huge.
But having him here is comforting. There’s no way Stone is getting back here if he shows up, no way Saint is even letting him in the building.
Not after the conversation I had with him when I got here.
He doesn’t know everything, but he knows enough to keep Stone out.
I didn’t think I would want to come back to TWO, but the thought of Nick or Stone waltzing into the main club had me begging Byron to let me work here tonight. Since I spilled my guts to him, he understood and called Vance to tell him I was heading over. Getting things off my chest to someone was an incredible relief. I didn’t even realize how badly I needed to do that until my face was buried in Byron’s shoulder and I was sobbing and pouring my heart out.
Tonight, I just needed to be somewhere there was a true buffer in case Stone tries anything, because Lord knows, he can waltz into the main club and do anything he wants. But not at TWO. Vance is in charge here, plus he has Saint backing him up.
And even Stone isn’t arrogant enough to think he can take on that beast of a man.
His dark brown eyes meet mine, and he tilts his head toward the hallway, indicating I should follow him.
I’m not scheduled to go on for another half an hour, and I told Vance I didn’t want to do any waitressing tonight. Sitting in the back with nothing but my thoughts and the other girls, who basically hate my guts, may not be the best idea, but I frankly don’t think I can handle real interaction with any of the patrons tonight.
Saint backs into the hallway as I approach, and I follow him down a ways until we’re out of earshot of the changing room and anything we say will be drowned out by the bass bumping from the main room.
“What’s up?”
He leans back against the wall and crosses his massive arms over his chest. “A particular gentleman, who shall remain nameless, has requested entry into the club. Word is, he’s already been to the main club looking for you and seems pretty intent on getting to you.”
Jesus.
My stomach roils, and I step back until I hit the cool wall. Stone has some real nerve showing up here. How can he think I would see him after what he said, after what he did?
“Did you let him in?” The voice that asks the question barely sounds like my own.
Stone is turning me into a quivering ball of nerves. He’s broken me more than anything else that’s happened in my life. And I hate him for that.
No.
Fudge that.
I’m not going to let him do this to me. I will not let that man shatter the life I have. He keeps telling me how strong I am, and how I’m the one in control. It’s time to prove it’s true.
“Let him in.”
Saint’s dark brows arch, and he steps off the wall. “Are you sure, Cashmere? I haven’t let him inside the building. He’s stewing in the parking lot, and I can send him packing. I don’t give a fuck if his brother owns the place. You are my priority.”
I release a sigh and nod. “I know, Saint. And I really appreciate it. But I need to get this done and over with. Sending him away will only drag it out more.”
He runs a large hand over his shaved head. “I don’t really like letting him in, given how upset you were earlier. But if you’re sure.”
Am I?
Thinking about it too much will probably make me insane. I just need to go with my gut, which is telling me now’s the time to tell Stone what I really think about him.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
With a sigh, he turns back toward the main room. “I’m going to put him in the Diamond Room. And I’m going to stand outside that fucking door the entire time you are in there with him. That’s not negotiable.”
“Thank you, Saint.”
He winks and flashes me a bright white smile. “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. It’s my job.”
Crap. Crap. Double dang crap.
I pace the hallway for several minutes after he disappears, trying to figure out what I’m going to say to Stone. A million different words have flown through my head since the other night—stupid, arrogant, pompous, idiotic, self-centered, and a few four letter ones. But I still have no idea how I’m going to look him in the eye knowing what he knows and hearing those words over and over again in my head.
You fucking prostituted yourself out for some pills…I can’t pity you right now.
Bile climbs up my throat, and I drop my hands into my face, taking long, deep breaths to try to gain any semblance of control.
Don’t let him break you!
Renewed resolve fills my veins, and I storm down the hall, past Saint, and into the Diamond Room.
Where I stop dead in my tracks.
Stone looks like complete and utter crap. He’s nothing like the man I saw two days ago. In fact, he may actually look worse than he did that night, which I never would have thought possible. He runs a shaking hand back through his disheveled hair, and his eyes meet mine. Red rims those baby blues, and every line on his face seems crater-deep.
“Nora…” A thousand things are said in just my name, but I refuse to allow myself to fall for whatever act he’s going to put on tonight.
“Why are you here?”
He sighs and takes a step toward me. I stand my ground, refusing to give an inch to him even though everything in me screams for me to run away to somewhere safe.
“Because…I…shit…I need to explain…I need to apologize.”
I shake my head, willing the tears burning in my eyes away. “There’s nothing to explain or apologize for. You made yourself very clear the other night.”
Another step brings him closer, and my heart thunders in my chest. Even now, his presence affects me physically in a way I wish I could simply push away.
“No, no I didn’t. Shit, Nora, that was not me talking, that was a selfish prick who was drunk and high and angry and not thinking about anything but himself and his own problems. That had absolutely nothing to do with you or how I feel about you or who you are as a person. Christ…”
He runs that hand back through his hair again, and I notice how badly it’s shaking. It might be withdrawals. I don’t know how deep Stone is in this stuff, or what he’s let it do to him. That alone terrifies me more than the hundred ways he has and can hurt me.
“What happened, Stone? To send you down that road the other night?”
His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “I can’t, Nora. At least, not right now. Right now, I need you to understand how fucking sorry I am for how I acted, how I treated you, what I fucking said. I can’t…I can’t even believe those words left my mouth.”
There’s no need for him to say what words he’s referring to. We both know that.
“You have to know, I don’t think that about you, I don’t think anything negative about you. I wouldn’t, I fucking couldn’t ever think anything bad about you. You’re the only good thing in my life, the one thing that keeps me grounded and able to function in this shitty world.”
I raise a
n eyebrow. “Really? Because the other night, it seemed like coke was the most important thing in your life and the thing you were using to deal with whatever was going on.”
“Shit, Nora.” He closes the distance between us and reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my biceps. “The coke is nothing. I do it occasionally, and it’s not a big deal. I know it’s a big deal to you now, and I’ll stop. You are way more important to me than the fucking coke.”
Christ, Stone…
I want to believe him. I want to believe in him. So damn much. But the words he said cut deep, and I don’t know if anything he can say or do now will ever heal those wounds.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Nora. For opening up to me and telling me what happened. I abused your trust in me and failed you as a boyfriend, a Dom, and a man by throwing that back in your face, and I can never expect you to forgive me for that. But I need you to know, that nothing you did makes you a bad person. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just something that happened, it doesn’t make you who you are or define you in any way. Please don’t fucking let it. And definitely don’t let something I said when I was buried under the weight of my own bullshit deter you from moving on with your fucking life and finding where you belong.”
Every brain cell I have screams at me to pull away and never look back. But my heart is breaking at his words, the sincerity and meaning there. Stone is eloquent. There’s no doubt about that, but this wasn’t a speech to a jury, he really meant what he just said to me. There’s no doubt in my mind he meant every single word.
For better or worse, Stone Hawke understands me and the situation I was in, and he doesn’t judge me for what I did. I want to believe, with every fiber of my being, that he only acted the way he did and said the things he said because of whatever is going on with him. And hopefully, he’ll open up to me and let me help him through whatever he’s going through.
I have to at least try…
Right?
Somehow, I’ve managed the impossible. Nora is in my house, standing in my living room, and she isn’t holding a gun or an axe or any other deadly weapon aimed at me.
Thank Christ.