Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
LAURA
I needed a break.
Natty had initially wanted to clear things up regarding Killian, but the second I wanted an explanation regarding Silas, she froze.
Callie and I had tried talking to her, reasonable and nice—we even went somewhere private so her business wouldn’t be talked about.
We asked Giles to watch the door, which he took really freaking seriously because at one point he walked inside with his gun drawn.
But no matter what, Natty wouldn’t budge.
I had asked her about her relationship with Silas, and she played dumb. So I had to break out the big guns.
“I was literally kidnapped by him, set in his lap and held at gunpoint. When he was asked why, he mentioned your name,” I had pointed out, but Natty just stared ahead as though we were crazy.
Her responses were: “No idea what you’re talking about, and I’ve never heard that name before.”
Callie and I looked at one another in frustration. Why was she protecting him, and if she wasn’t then why was she playing into this? We needed more info. Callie mentioned that Sasha might know, so we decided to stop interrogating her and let her leave.
She was pissed, of course, and ran straight up to her room. I felt a tiny bit of guilt, especially because she had tears in her eyes, but at the same time, I was literally held at gunpoint because of her ex. Or her boyfriend…or whatever the fuck he was to her.
“I’m hungry,” Callie said, rubbing her stomach.
I smiled, staring down at her hand. “You’re starting to kind of show.”
“Right?” she exclaimed excitedly. We both stared at her slim figure, moving our hands over the smallest, tiniest bump that was protruding from her stomach.
We walked to the apartment, and I knew Giles was close by, watching over us. That or Harris. Once I shut us inside, I locked the door, knowing Giles could still get in if needed.
“Let’s see what Mr. President stocked in the house,” I mused, pulling open a cupboard.
Callie took a seat on the stool, looking around.
“Wow, so he really moved in then?”
“He did.”
I found dried pasta, bacon and some gouda cheese. “Want me to make some homemade mac n cheese?”
Callie leaned onto her elbows. “You know how to do that?”
Waving her off, I pulled up my phone. “No, but I’m sure there’s a TikTok about it.”
“How come it’s not bothering you that he moved in?”
I laughed and started searching for a pot. “Oh, it did. You missed like a whole big blow up. But he also made a very big dominant show of not wanting me to leave, but then we had oral sex and….” I hesitated, realizing I had to finally come clean about everything.
“Just oral?” Callie’s smile turned devious.
I bit my lip. “Not just oral.”
Callie searched my face and then rounded the counter.
“Tell me, Laura Witt! Tell me right freaking now!”
Laughing, I pushed at her hands that were two seconds from pinching me.
“We have sort of been hooking up.”
Her hazel eyes were round and massive. “When did this start?”
“Night we all had dinner together.”
“But you were drunk.” She tilted her head, concern tugging at her brows.
My hands came out as if I had any way of explaining.
“He didn’t touch me.”
“Oh. Oh.” Understanding dawned.
“Yeah…I sort of straddled the man and took what I wanted. But after that, he was just all over me, and everywhere. We’ve had a hard time keeping our hands off each other.”
“Okay. Wow. This is a lot to process.”
I nodded.
“How was the sex?” she whispered, a sly grin sliding over her features.
“I’ll save you the sordid details, but best I’ve ever had. There was just one thing that sort of threw me off.”
Callie went rummaging for a drink. Once she found a bottle of water, she leaned against the fridge. “Does he have a crooked dick?”
Bursting out in laughter, my chest practically vibrated at her random comment. “No. Not even a little, it’s perfect and straight and thickkkkkk.”
Her hands flew up to her ears. “Ewwww Ohmygosh, he’s like my brother. Please stop.”
Smiling victoriously, I pushed on, “He had this tattoo…it was very out of place with his others.”
I started filling a pot with water, assuming that would get us closer to mac n cheese, when Callie’s brows furrowed. “Is it the daisy?”
So it was a daisy then.
“Yes!” I spun to face her. “He wouldn’t talk about it.” I was fishing for information, and a part of me felt guilty, especially since Red had already given me so much. But I wanted more.
She waved me off. “He’s had that forever. It was his first tattoo. I remember because my dad teased him about it.”
That lined up with what Red had said. But why did he get it? What did it mean to him?
And if he’d had it for so long then why was it the nickname he’d given to me?
Callie started inspecting her phone, not paying attention.
“Hey Callie?” I was slightly off-kilter, my mind running a million miles a minute.
Something told me he was saying something in his weird Killian language.
Part of me wanted to curl into the gesture, whatever it was, and respond in kind.
The other part of me wanted to keep him at arm’s length, as far away from my heart as possible.
The two urges warred inside me, tugging at my entangled heart strings.
Killian hadn’t confessed anything to me; he hadn’t made any promises or any vows.
He’d merely told me to stay. But for him, I knew that was nearly as vulnerable as it would be for him to tug the organ out of his chest and then wear it on his sleeve.
Biting my lip, I slammed my eyes shut and blurted, “I want a tattoo.”
Callie paused, her gaze sliding up to mine.
She would never charge me for using my skin as a canvas, not when I was the first person to sign up when she needed practice.
I could pay her; she just wouldn’t accept it.
No, we’d trade just like always. She smiled, still staring at her phone. “And I want my nursery painted.”
Sly bitch. I couldn’t help smiling at her cleverness. “Deal.”
No questions were asked why I wanted it or what I wanted to get. She likely knew by now that my eagerness for ink was more like an addiction at this point.
She hopped off the counter. “Excellent. Should we ask if Natty would like to join us for an afternoon of ink and dessert?”
“Dessert?”
She tossed the corkscrew pasta aside. “Yes, at this rate, I’m going to starve.”
“Touché. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
We both laughed and then exited the apartment.
We stood in front of Natty’s door, hoping she’d give us another chance. We were frustrated in our own way with how she responded, but we also respected her privacy and knew there had to be a reason she wasn’t telling us anything.
Her door swung open after a minute or so. Her eyes held a sorrow that tugged at my chest in a painful way. She’d been crying, her eyes were red rimmed, and her mascara had run.
Callie stepped forward first. “We’re sorry, Nat. Let us make it up to you.”
Natty’s gaze flicked over to me, and then her nose twitched as she sniffed.
Her hair was still braided; little strands were frizzy, framing her face, but her raw beauty was still so striking.
I often thought of Natty like a fairy-tale character or a Disney Princess.
She was pretty in a way that didn’t seem real.
She didn’t have pores, or pimples, or any scars that I could see.
She had a few sparsely placed freckles, which only blended beautifully with her dark brows and lashes.
Her bowlike lips pursed as she considered what Callie was offering.
“Where are you going?”
Callie looked over at me, then returned to her. “I’m giving out tattoos, if you want one, of course. Laura is getting one, and we’re hungry.”
Natty glanced behind her and then let out a sigh.
“Only if Laura agrees to a girls’ night at The Hollow and sings a song of our choice.”
Callie slowly turned toward me, as my face nearly caught fire.
“What’s she talking about?”
Natty looked between us, fresh panic on her face. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know—”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I was going to tell her, I just…”
“First, you hold out on details regarding Killian, and now this.” Callie held up her hand, her mouth open, irritation leaking into her words.
“Let me grab my jacket and purse.” Natty pulled us both inside and then shut the door behind us. Callie continued to stare at me.
“I have a difficult time sharing certain things, I’m sorry. Natty only knows because she showed up. I didn’t tell her.”
My best friend’s hand moved to her slightly swollen stomach and let out a sigh.
“I get it. When I came back and was working through everything, there were tons of things I didn’t share right away.”
She brought me in for a hug, and then we started inspecting Natty’s room.
The space was warm and cozy. With a small counter and sink, her humble kitchen looked similar to something you might find in a college dorm room, but it didn’t seem to deter her from cooking. She had a dish rack with two plates, glasses and three pots drying inside.
Her living space had a smaller L-shaped couch with fuzzy cushions, and a small television rested on a white dresser.
Her full-sized bed was directly behind her couch, and with several strings of fairy lights lit up, it made the space above her window glow.
She had green vines trailing around her frame and up along the upper wall, which, mixed with the lighting, was so relaxing and cute.
I was half tempted to suggest we just hang out in her room, but I also wanted the tattoo.
Natty grabbed a red jacket from a coat rack, and then her small backpack purse came around her shoulders, resting against her back.