Chapter 49
49
NIKKO
T he sound of water running behind the bathroom door had become the backdrop to my mornings lately, and honestly, I was starting to get used to it. Still, I didn’t need to stick around and hear Hannah belt out Total Eclipse of the Heart for the fourth time this week.
I pushed the door open just enough to poke my head in, steam swirling around like a bad music video. “I’m heading out. Be back in an hour.”
She peeked out from behind the curtain, her hair piled up like a soap-covered beehive. “Where are you going?”
“Just a ride.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A ride? You’re being mysterious.”
“Relax, Sherlock. I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”
“I’m timing you,” she called as I shut the door.
Firing up the bike a few minutes later, I let the familiar rumble of the engine settle my nerves. I wasn’t heading anywhere fun, but this ride was overdue.
The warehouse looked like it had been dipped in rust. It was a perfect image for everything I’d tried to leave behind. The ocean breeze did little to mask the smell of oil and burnt rubber .
I cut the engine and stared up at the place. I knew this was probably a dangerous move. Real dangerous. But I didn’t have a chance of solving this if I didn’t try to end things. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder. I had to think about Hannah. I couldn’t put her in jeopardy. If she was going to be living with me, I couldn’t take chances with her safety.
I climbed off the bike and walked into the shop. The low hum of machinery mingled with the occasional burst of muffled laughter. No one paid me any attention. A few looks, but they could care less who I was or why I was there.
I remembered the place well. It was impossible to forget no matter how hard you tried. I found Braggs in his office, the guy lounging in his chair like a king holding court. His face lit up when he saw me.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Zip’s boy. Long time, Nikko.”
“Braggs.” I shut the door behind me, feeling the weight of every memory tied to this place. If I knew the first thing about explosives, I would blow this place to high heaven. The city would thank me.
He puffed on a cigar, his grin smug. “What brings you back? Don’t tell me you’re looking for work.”
“Not quite.”
“I told you I would have a job for you when you came crawling back.”
“No one is crawling anywhere,” I said. “I don’t want a fucking job. Especially not with you.”
He laughed. “You always thought you were too good for everyone.”
“No, I always thought everyone was too good for this place,” I said.
“If you’ve come to insult me, you might want to think twice about that. People that owe me money don’t get a lot of leeway.”
“I don’t owe you a fucking dime.” I pulled a fat wad of cash from my pocket and dropped it on his desk. “But my father does. Ten grand. Plus a little extra. Zip’s debt is cleared.”
Braggs raised an eyebrow, then reached for the stack, thumbing through the bills like he was flipping pages in a novel. “Well, damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes, you are,” he said.
“Now leave me out of any future debt collecting,” I said. “If your dogs come hassling me again, I’ll send them away with more than bruises. Got it?”
He nodded, even though he seemed unbothered by my threat. “You know, it’s nothing personal. It’s the principle. People owe me money and they have to pay.”
“Yeah, well, if you don’t want my dad owing you money, quit fucking giving it to him. I’m not bailing that deadbeat out again. Don’t come knocking on my door.”
He chuckled again. “You paying up like this?” He leaned back, holding the cash up like a trophy. “We’re square. No more visits, no more calls. You’re clean.”
“Good,” I said, extending my hand. “Keep it that way.”
Braggs shook it, his grip firm but not hostile. “You got balls, kid. Tell your old man he could learn a thing or two.”
“Don’t worry. I’m about to. Although I doubt we can teach that old dog new tricks.”
I walked out of the warehouse and climbed back on my bike. Braggs was a businessman above all else and I was confident he would honor his word. If he didn’t, the gloves would come off and I would remind him I wasn’t a pushover like my father.
I drove back out to the old man’s house. I hated it here. I hated everything it represented. It was nothing but bad memories and the source of some serious childhood trauma. A bit of adult trauma too.
I knocked on the door but didn’t get a response. That wasn’t a surprise. No one that lived or crashed here would be up before noon. As expected, the front door wasn’t locked. That always made me curious. He had people that wanted him dead, and he didn’t even bother locking the front door. I supposed if someone really wanted him dead, a locked door wasn’t going to stop them .
I found Zip where I expected him: passed out on the couch, surrounded by beer cans and stale regret. I shook his shoulder. “Pop!”
He came to with a grunt, his eyes bloodshot and defensive. “What the hell do you want?” he muttered, rubbing his face.
“Get up. We’re talking.”
“Talking? You woke me up for a chat?”
“Yes, get up.”
“Fuck off. I’m sleeping.”
“Get up, asshole,” I said. “I’ll be outside waiting. It stinks in here.”
He grumbled but followed me to the porch, where the air was marginally fresher.
“I paid off your debt,” I said, leaning against the railing. “It’s done. Braggs is out of your life.”
He snorted. “Congratulations, kid. You want a medal?”
“No. I want you to know this is it. That was the last time I’m bailing you out.”
He squinted at me, trying to gauge if I was serious.
“I’m making a life for myself,” I continued. “A real one. I’ve met someone. She’s everything I could ever want and nothing I deserve, but I’m not going to lose her because of you, Dad. I’m not screwing this up for you or anyone else. I need you to stay out of my life. You and I are finished. I’ve given you thirty-one years to get your shit together and be a real father. It’s never going to happen.”
“Is that why you dragged me out here? To rub it in my face how much better you are than me?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m telling you because you need to hear it. And because…” I hesitated, then forced the words out. “I forgive you.”
He stared at me like I’d just spoken in tongues. “You what?”
“I forgive you. For everything.”
His face crumpled, his hands trembling as he gripped the railing. “I don’t deserve that, Nikko. I don’t.”
“Maybe not. But I do.”
We stood there in silence, the weight of years of anger and disappointment finally lifting. It wasn’t a clean slate, but it was enough.
“I’ll see you around, Dad,” I said, turning to leave. “Or not. ”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. To my life. You need to get your shit together. Take a shower. Take the trash out. Do the fucking dishes. Or don’t. It’s really not my concern. You’re going to do whatever you want. That’s your choice. But I won’t be here to see it.”
“Nikko,” he called after me, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Thank you.”
I nodded, got on my bike, and didn’t look back.
When I got home, Hannah was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under her and a mug of tea in her hands. She looked up when I walked in, her face lighting up.
“You’re back!” she said. “You were gone longer than an hour.”
“Did you time me?”
“Maybe.”
I chuckled, tossing my keys on the counter. “Miss me already?”
She grinned. “Always.”
I sat beside her, pulling her close. For the first time in a long time, I felt free. And damn, it felt good.
“Are you going to tell me what this mystery errand was all about?”
I took a deep breath, figuring out how to start. “I went to settle some old debts,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Debts?” Her eyebrows furrowed lightly, the concern evident in her gaze.
“Not mine,” I quickly added. “My dad’s. I’ve paid off everything he owed the guy that sent his goons after me. It’s done. He won’t be a problem anymore.”
“You paid your dad’s debt?”
“I had to. I can’t risk you getting caught up in this bullshit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know. Because you had to pay.”
“I was going to do it. I knew it was my only option.”
“That’s not a small chunk of change.”
I sighed. “No. Most of my savings. I guess it’s a good thing Marcus put up the cash to open the shop. ”
“You’re a good man,” she said.
“Maybe. I went to my dad’s place.”
“You did?”
“I needed to see him. To tell him it was the last time. That he’s on his own now. I told him that I’m done. Done saving him from himself.”
Hannah reached out and placed her hand gently on mine. Her touch was warm, grounding. “How did he take it?”
“He didn’t say much. But I think he understood. It’s over, Hannah. For real this time.”
There was a quiet moment as we both sat, absorbing the weight of it all. Then she smiled softly, squeezing my hand. “You did what you had to do. It’s not just for us—it’s for you too. You’re carving out your peace.”
“It was tough but necessary.”
“Maybe it’s the tough love he needed,” she said. “Maybe this will be the thing that makes him clean up his act.”
I laughed. “I doubt it. My dad has had sixty years to get his shit together. I don’t think he wants to change. But that’s no longer my problem. I can’t keep trying to fix someone who doesn’t want to be fixed.”
Hannah nodded understandingly, her eyes filled with pride and sadness. “You’re right. And I’m proud of you for standing your ground, Nikko. Not everyone has the strength to do what you did today.”
We let the conversation fade.
I patted her knee. “I need to go to the shop and get some measurements. Marcus wants me to give him the list of furniture and equipment I’m going to need to get things going.”
“Want some company?” Hannah asked with a hopeful smile.
“Of course,” I said.
We left together. The sun was high and bright in the sky, and the ride to the shop was short but refreshing, with the wind against our faces and the buzz of the city around us .
Hannah wandered around quietly. “It’s bigger than I thought,” she commented.
“Marcus has a vision,” I said with a laugh.
“You don’t?”
“I do, but I’m more of the guy that just wants to ink. He’s the one that knows how to do the setup and all that shit.”
Hannah smirked, her eyes taking in the empty space that would soon transform based on those visions. “You’ll do great,” she said.
I grinned back at her, feeling a surge of excitement about the future—the shop, our life together, all the possibilities that seemed so tangible now, with the weight of my father’s issues finally off my shoulders.
“We should start figuring out where everything is going to go,” I suggested, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket with some rough sketches I had drawn up.
She leaned over to look at it. Her hair brushed against my cheek as she pointed to one corner. “What do you think about setting up your station here? You’d get the best light during the day.”
“That’s a good call,” I agreed, marking the spot with an X. “And maybe we put the reception desk over there by the entrance?”
“Perfect.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said. “This is going to be possible because of you.”
“I’m not doing this, you are.”
“But I wouldn’t have had the strength or courage to do it if I hadn’t met you.”
“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing you did,” she grinned.