Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I should’ve asked how you were feeling.” Nebraska cut straight to it as soon as we were in the hall.
I mentally debated what part of my day had been the worst. Waking up in Cash’s bed, the way he’d stared at me from the doorway of his bedroom, Cara seeing the marks around my neck, my life laid out before strangers, Zane hitting me with his version of care and concern—and as an aside, his version left a lot to be desired.
Or if it was Cash’s latest flip-flop or if it was Nebraska leading me into a kitchenette for girl talk.
I didn’t have the first clue what girl talk entailed, I’d only agreed to get out of the conference room and away from Cash, but now I was seriously regretting my decision if she was going to discuss feelings.
“Nebraska—”
“I also should’ve told you when Cash got the call from Cara to come get her after the confusion wore off, I was…
worried.” She said the last part with her hand up to stop my protest. “Actually, I was scared. For you, then after I met Cara, for her. And before you say it, I know you can take care of yourself. But that doesn’t mean a friend doesn’t worry or get scared when a friend gets taken from her own damned house. ” That time she ended on a hiss.
A friend doesn’t worry.
“Nebraska—”
“And I should’ve gotten up when you came in and hugged you, but I knew you’d hate that. So I didn’t. But also, if I’m being honest, I was a little put out that I’ve known you a really long time, Stella, and you never told me.”
She was correct; I would’ve hated her hugging me in front of Zane and his team. At least that was what I told myself—that I hated being touched, hated any sort of affection, anything that made me feel or look weak.
But it was all a lie.
Just like the rest of my life.
“Told you what?”
Nebraska’s hand landed on the back of a chair.
She wasn’t hiding behind her professional facade—the blank stare she used when she sat at a table with criminals to negotiate turf wars and trade routes.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Nebraska…pissed, well and truly irritated and not masking a single emotion as her annoyance filled the small room.
“Seriously,” she whispered.
Since I was a woman, I understood what that whisper meant. I just didn’t understand the anger behind it.
“Why—”
She switched from whispering to shouting. “Are you fucking serious?”
I jerked in surprise and winced. The quick movement reminding me of the tapestry of slashes that crisscrossed my back.
The thin thread that held my temper back had been fraying all day. I sucked in a breath and locked on the last bit of patience I had to grind out, “I don’t think you getting pissed and yelling is good for the baby.”
Nebraska’s eyes narrowed. “I was going to tell you about the baby, too, by the way. But I thought finding your dickface brother took precedence.”
“Damion is not now, nor will he ever be, a priority,” I spat a partial lie.
Killing him was a priority, but he wasn’t.
He was a meaningless piece of shit.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, much calmer this time.
“Tell you what? That I’m a McKnight? That I informed on my father when he started funding terrorist groups? That after the CIA had him taken out, Michael saw the wisdom in having a socialite with all the right connections in his pocket. That he faked my death. That I—”
“No, Stella.” Nebraska leaned deep, her torso touching the back of the chair.
Her pretty face screwed up into a scowl and suddenly I was happy there was a table separating us.
I would never, not ever, get into a knock-down drag-out catfight with a pregnant woman, especially one I respected and cared about.
But Nebraska looked like she would have no issue throwing a right hook.
“Who gives a shit about the past? We all have secrets. It’s who we are—it’s what makes us.
” She waved her hand in front of her as if to sweep away that thought to get to the point of her anger. “I’m talking about Cara.”
Cara?
My heart thudded against my rib cage in a painful staccato beat—sharp stabs, spikey, no real rhythm, just abrupt thumps.
I had yet to breathe through the ache, hadn’t gotten a handle on the whole girl talk gig I wish I hadn’t agreed to, especially if she was going to bring Cara into the conversation.
After yesterday and this morning I was too raw.
My emotions were splayed open worse than the flesh my brother had torn open.
I was having trouble—no, scratch that, I was finding it impossible—to pull up the emotional armor I needed to deal with… everything.
Discussing Cara would be the straw that was one too many.
This needed to end.
I backed away from the table enough to have a clear shot out the door.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.” It was a weak defense, but it was all I had. “Not to you or anyone.”
“Bullshit,” she spat. “Drop the act, Stella. You told that girl about us. You gave—”
I knew what I’d done, what I’d given Cara. I didn’t need Nebraska pointing out I wasn’t enough.
“I gave her what I could,” I shouted, finally losing hold of the last of my temper.
“I don’t know what the hell Michael and Donna were thinking leaving her to me.
I don’t know the first thing about kids.
I’m doing the best I can. I have no one.
No family to give her. No maternal instinct.
I have nothing to offer her. No moral compass.
Nothing. Guilt and shame is the soundtrack of my childhood.
Tell me, Nebraska, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
How am I…me…Lore…supposed to teach a little girl good lessons when I grew up with a mother who was more concerned about social status than her kids?
I was kicked out of the ridiculously expensive private school my parents handpicked so I could network with the right people.
Not that their friends knew I was asked to leave.
As you know, money buys a lot of shit, including covering your daughter’s act of rebellion.
Suddenly I’m off to Europe to finish school.
Learning abroad. The only thing I was learning was how to spend money.
I didn’t graduate high school. I didn’t need to—I had McKnight money.
And when my father married me off, I’d have Kensington money.
I was a prop. A tool. I was nothing more than a body for my father to use to teach my brother how to be an animal.
I have nothing to give her. Nothing. I’m fucking clueless and terrified and now I have the Devil breathing down my neck and it’s not just me.
I have this beautiful little girl I need to protect and I don’t know how. ”
By the time I was done ranting I was panting.
Terror burned through me.
Each exhale felt like shards of glass were being expelled from my lungs.
“Stella—”
I held up my hand. “I know. I didn’t do right. I fucked up.”
“Stella—”
“Trust me, I don’t need you telling me what a piss poor job I’m doing.”
“Stella—”
“And—”
“Shut. Up. And. Listen to me.”
I blinked at Nebraska, shocked. “Don’t tell me to shut up.”
Her hands moved to her hips and because I, too, was female and pissed off, I mimicked her stance.
“No family to give her?” she hissed.
“Are you deaf?”
Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “That’s incredibly insensitive.”
“Insensitive? My father funneled money for and funded terrorist organizations. My brother has been beating the shit out of me for as far back as I can remember. I don’t have family.”
“Not that. To people with hearing loss.”
It took me a moment to understand what Nebraska was saying. I’d called her deaf and she was rightly calling me out for being an insensitive asshole.
“See? Proves my point. I have no business raising a kid when I don’t even know—”
“Ohmigod, shut up!”
“If you tell me to shut up one more time, Dove, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut.” Shit, I forgot she was pregnant. “Very carefully, so I don’t hurt your baby.”
I watched her pinch her lips together before they twisted into a smile.
Then out of nowhere she busted out laughing.
I waited for what felt like minutes for her hilarity to die down.
When it finally did, I was left with an unsettling feeling in my stomach.
In all the years I’d known Nebraska, I’d never heard her laugh like that—carefree and happy.
“My feelings were hurt,” she quietly admitted.
“We’ve known each other a long time. We both lead lives that required secrets.
But I always knew if I needed you, you’d be there.
You were the only real friend I had, the only person who truly understood.
When you bailed, I wasn’t worried. That was pure Lore.
I knew you’d contact me. But weeks turned into months and you didn’t call.
No texts. No cryptic emails about how much fun you were having.
And that’s when I started to worry. Years, Stella, years and years and years we’ve known each other and you’ve never gone that long without giving me your new contact info.
Then I learned about Cara, and that hurt worse than you falling off the face of the earth. ”
I didn’t know what to say. Pressure banded around my chest, until I felt lightheaded.
Real friend.
“I mean, what the hell, Stella? I’m not family?”
That stole what was left of my breath, leaving me unable to respond. Not that it mattered because Nebraska wasn’t done gutting me.
“For years you’ve had my back and never asked for anything in return.
Hell, when I found out my mother was still alive and the man who’d raised me had lied about everything, you were the only person outside of Easton who understood how deep that betrayal burned.
” Her lips tipped up into a smile. “But it was only you who offered to off them both.”
If it wasn’t for Cara and me only allowing myself one more felony, that offer would still be on the table. I knew she loved Charlie, but he did her dirty in a way I felt was unforgiveable. Same as her mother.
Nebraska still wasn’t done and went on to deliver the death blow.
“Then I get my chance to give you a little of what you gave me and you stole my chance. You didn’t trust me.
You snuck away and I know you well enough to know if Damion hadn’t forced your hand, you never would’ve come back.
Our friendship meant so little to you, you scraped me off and disappeared. ”
With Nebraska’s dagger still in my heart, I struggled with how to make this right or if I even should.
I needed to pack up Cara and leave again.
I needed to get her safe, and once and for all end my brother’s reign of terror.
For months now, I’d had all the intel I needed.
Concrete proof he’d killed Michael and Donna.
Not him personally but he’d paid for the hit. With my father’s dirty money.
“You’re planning on running again,” she rightly guessed.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice. But this time, when you try to bail I think you’re gonna find a six-foot-two obstacle standing between you and the door.
And just in case I haven’t made myself clear I’ll be standing right beside him blocking your path.
” Her face softened when she asked, “Do you remember when you called me to warn me not to get on Zane’s radar? ”
I indeed remembered that conversation. I was scared out of my brain for my friend. Everyone knew not to tangle with Zane Lewis, and Nebraska waltzed in ready to play the gold medal player. It was a recipe for disaster.
“You mean the call where you jumped on me for taking out the Pussy King instead of thanking me for killing a poacher before his next big hunt. Yeah, I remember. You were in Miami. I was in Panama looking into flights, getting ready to burn one of my aliases to get to you before you got in too deep.”
“Right. See, two things with that—the first is there’s another example of you always having my back.
You know, like family. The second is you were right about Zane, but very wrong.
Once you light that fire, he burns bright, but only for those he cares about.
You have his respect, Stella. Cash has his loyalty.
And you giving him Cara, meaning that little girl has an uncle that will burn out of control to keep her safe.
” She paused. “Wait. There’s a third part.
You warned me that Garrett could find ninety-nine percent of the intel Zane needs and Kira can find the one percent that holds all your secrets.
I guarantee if you run, she’ll find you. ”
Nebraska wasn’t wrong.
Kira could find anyone.
But she hadn’t found me.
Which meant she hadn’t bothered to look.
No one had.