11. Nolan
NOLAN
S ecrets are like sins. Everyone has them and no one wants to admit it.
I should have known Darrio would be hiding a secret from me, too. I should have fucking known .
My fingers tighten over the handlebars of my Indian as I race down the long, dark highway. The beam of light that washes over the dark pavement is swallowed around the edges by the darkness that encroaches.
The engine rumbles, a growling purr that fills my ears even through my helmet and visor.
I grit my teeth and push the bike faster, the speedometer jolting up and sliding towards ninety miles per hour and beyond.
It’s dangerous. It’s practically asking for death as I lean into the next curve and the line grazes a hundred miles per hour.
Adrenaline races through my system as I picture Juliet’s face. The betrayal. The horror. The confusion. Still, at least she had stayed long enough to hear us out. At least she’d left the same way she’d come—with us.
Now, she’s lying in my bed with Gio and Lex wrapped around her like twin vines and I’m… here .
Seconds later, the highway ends and shifts into regular roadways as I come roaring back into Silverwood and take a left towards the public high school rather than to my own neighborhood.
The drive had meant to clear out the rage in my head.
It didn’t work. I can still feel the old anger steeped like tea leaves in my blood.
Once it’s combined with the rest of me, there will be no separating the two.
I was raised with an angry man in my house. He never left. I simply killed him and buried him in the back of my mind. Now, I am him and he is me.
Cory’s Gym comes into view and I slow the bike even more, turning into the parking lot.
Were it me, I’d say it’s far too late for Cory to be here, but a dim light shines out from the windows that face the road.
I halt the bike and jerk the kickstand down with my foot before reaching for the phone in my back pocket.
My lips twist. Late? It’s nearly five a.m. and I’ve been driving mindlessly for several hours. This is early for everyone else and it’s more than that to the man shuffling around the building.
I turn the Indian off and pocket my keys and phone once more, striding around the side of the building. If anyone can help me get my head on straight when a drive has failed, it’s Cory.
The door is locked when I get to the front, but a quick tap on the glass has the shadow beyond the blinds shifting. The sound of the lock snicking and then the door creaking open is followed by Cory’s confused face. When he spies me, he merely sighs and steps out of the way to allow me inside.
“Ya know I don’ open for another hour, kid,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face as he relocks the front door and heads for the front counter.
The lights are on and the scent of equipment polish and bleach burns my nostrils. Cory shifts behind the counter, a collection of pens and open scheduling planners laid out before him.
“I’m not here to work out,” I tell him.
Cory arches a brow and looks down to the boots on my feet. “Ya don’ say?” He switches his attention to the computer screen and starts typing. “If ya ain’t here to give your body something to do, whatcha here for?”
I shift awkwardly on my feet, not sure how to respond.
Cory continues typing and doesn’t press for an answer right away.
As I contemplate what I can even tell the man, I turn away from the counter and move over to where the closest machine is—a press bench not unlike the one in my room, though this one is definitely nicer.
I take a seat and cup the back of my neck as I let my free hand dangle between my legs. “There’s… shit going on with Darrio,” I begin.
Cory snorts. “There’s always shit goin’ on with that man,” he replies without looking my way. “I don’ told ya when you first started workin’ for him that he won’ gonna be nothing but a headache later.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, man,” I huff out. “You want to hear you were right—well, I’m saying it. You were fucking right, but I still didn’t have much of a choice.”
“We all got choices, kid,” Cory replies. The sound of his typing tapers off and he glances up, our gazes connecting. “Might be between a shitty decision and even worse one, but they’re still choices.”
The hand at the back of my neck drops down to join the other as I duck my head and stare at the freshly cleaned and waxed floors of the gym. “I wanted out of this shithole town,” I say. It’s a truth I’ve known for a long damn time.
Silverwood is a place where people get stuck.
It’s a void that will swallow you whole and keep you imprisoned if you let it.
I was so determined to get out. I made plans.
I took risks. I fucking sold my soul to the devil, and now…
there’s more at risk than simply being stuck here in Silverwood forever.
Men like Darrio are a cancer. They won’t care who they hurt in their bid to spread their disease. They want to conquer. They want power.
All I want is freedom for me and the guys and… her. Yeah. Fuck it. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything else in my goddamn life.
“Let me guess, Darrio caught on to your intentions?” Cory asks.
I lift my head again and his expression shifts, his shoulders dropping as he rounds the counter and strides towards where I sit.
Once he’s in reach, he crouches down, balancing easily on his feet as he watches me.
His dreads are pulled back in a loose knot at the back of his head and his gray Cory’s Gym t-shirt hangs loose over his chest, a size too big for him.
He cups my shoulder. “I ain’t gonna pretend like I know e’erything you done, kid,” he murmurs. “Ain’t no one in this world knows how it’s like bein’ you and no one ever will. They don’ wear your skin, do they?”
I sigh, the weight of decisions to be made sinking into me. I’m so fucking tired. “Knowing that doesn’t help me figure out what I have to do now to protect my people.”
“You know what you need to do.” Cory’s tone is serious.
“You just want someone to give you permission.” His fingers squeeze my shoulder again, once, and then he lets go.
“That’s the thing about growing up, though.
You don’ need no one to give you permission.
You make the choice and you deal with the consequences.
” He straightens and I tip my head back, watching him unfold from his crouched position to his full height.
“Just make sure that whatever decision you make is one you can live with.” He glances to the side as a pair of headlights wash over the front windows of the gym.
“Too many men have killed themselves over choices they made when they forgot that they’d have to live with them. ”
Without the music that normally fills the gym, it’s easy to hear the sound of a car turning off and a pair of footsteps approaching the front.
I’d parked around back in the larger parking area, but it seems someone else has chosen the front.
I glance at the clock, but it’s only been twenty minutes since I got here. Cory’s doesn’t open for another forty.
There’s no tap on the door, though, but a key twisting in the lock and I jerk my gaze up to Cory as he moves back towards the counter, a smirk on his lips. The door to the gym opens and a familiar figure appears, dressed in loose sweats and a baggy t-shirt.
“Principal Long?” Heather Long, Silverwood High Public’s principal, stops just inside the door. From the look on her face, she’s just as surprised to find me here as I am to see her.
I look back to Cory, who merely shuffles a few papers on the counter absently as if he’s not all that concerned with the woman who has keys to his business. Narrowing my gaze on the older man with suspicion, I get to my feet.
“What are you doing here, Nolan? Cory’s Gym isn’t open for another?—”
“I know,” I say with a shake of my head. “I, uh, I needed some advice and I saw the light on.”
Principal Long shoots a look at Cory, her lips turning down into a scowl when the man still doesn’t say a word.
I let my gaze trail down Long’s form. She’s got a water bottle in one hand and her keys in the other, suggesting she’s been coming to his gym for a while.
At least long enough to have a key to the front door.
Cory, in all of his enigmatic glory, turns and presses his back to the counter and crosses his arms over his chest as he eyes Long across the room.
And I’m done. I’d recognize that look on a man even if I were blind.
Cory has a thing for the principal. Whatever they’ve got going on between them has nothing to do with me and finding myself the unintentional buffer to what feels like amused tension on Cory’s part and annoyance on the principal’s has me quickly moving back to the door.
“Well, thanks for… erm… everything,” I say lamely, dodging around the two of them as I reach for the front door. “I’ll see you at school, Principal Long.”
“Nolan? Wait!” I curse inwardly at Principal Long’s call, but lower my hand from the knob and turn to face her out of respect.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Long’s hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, but the lack of cosmetics and dressed-down nature of her attire makes her look a good ten years younger than she actually is. She looks like she wants to move towards me, but she stops herself.
“I’m aware that Miss Donovan has been relying on you a lot lately,” she starts.
I arch a brow and wait. It’s almost amusing watching the play of emotions over Long’s face. There’s contemplation, annoyance, frustration, anger, and finally, resignation.
She blows out a long breath. “Just… look after her, will you? You’re a good boy, Nolan.”
A good boy? No. I haven’t been good in a long damn time. Not since the day I decided to kill my father and drag the rest of my friends down into hell with me.
Instead of refuting her words, though, I merely dip my head in acknowledgement. Just because I’m a bastard doesn’t mean I need to disrespect well-meaning people like Principal Long.
I feel both of their eyes on my back as I leave the gym. I ignore the extra weight their attention adds. Even as I return to my bike and don my helmet again, I can’t help but wonder if Cory’s advice isn’t more of a warning than true aid.
Whatever decision I end up making won’t just affect me in the end. I’m not the only one that will have to live with it. That, more than anything else, is the heaviest burden I carry.