Chapter 6
Nova
Nearly a week has gone by since the coffee date or get-together—whatever—with Chris.
I’ve been playing hardball, and he’s biting hook, line, and sinker.
I’m playing the long game, though. I mean, hell, I put my life on hold for over a year now, so what’s a couple more months in order to reach my end goal?
Except you’re starting to actually like Chris.
That may be true, but it won’t deter me from my plans.
I need to get in a room with Oscar Cano, and I need to kill him.
My plans to do it slowly so he suffers, just like Charlie did, have been put on the back burner.
Now I realize that just getting close to the man will be a challenge, so it doesn’t really matter how I do it, as long as he knows the why.
My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, distracting me from my plans.
Surfer Boy:
Are you at Bella’s tonight?
Me:
No “hello” or “how’d you sleep”?
Surfer Boy:
Nova, baby, how are you? Did you sleep okay?
Laughter bursts from me. He’s growing on me … a lot.
Me:
I slept very well. Thank you for asking. You’re such a gentleman.
Surfer Boy:
You sure about that?
Me:
Well, you haven’t given me any reason to believe otherwise.
Surfer Boy:
I can change that. Are you working at Bella’s tonight?
Me:
I am not.
Surfer Boy:
Good. Be ready around three. I’ll pick you up.
Me:
Is this you showing me how ungentlemanly you can be?
Surfer Boy:
No. This is me trying to do something nice and different. Please, Nova, be ready at three. I have a surprise for you.
Me:
If this is you being nice, I’d love to see what the opposite looks like.
I can’t help but push his buttons. Whatever he has planned today, I’m really hoping it ends in the bedroom or bathroom, or a fucking wall—I don’t care. I need a damn orgasm not created by my vibrator.
Surfer Boy:
Be good, and I’ll show you.
Well, damn. Did someone say “wet panties”?
Me:
I’ll be ready by three.
I send him my address and flop down onto my decrepit couch. I have four hours to plan and get prepared before Chris gets here. It’s both too long and not enough time to lock down my thoughts.
Sex with Chris is fine, but I can’t get attached, and I fear I already am heading in that direction. Steeling myself against his manly wiles is the name of the game.
I roll my eyes at myself. It shouldn’t be that hard to separate things out. It’s not like I’m in a position to give anyone more than sex, so it shouldn’t be a problem with Chris either.
If I repeat that to myself enough times, will it stick?
Three on the dot, there’s a knock on my door.
I grab my bag, slinging it across my chest, and open the door.
“Holy shit,” Chris whispers as his eyes widen comically.
“Is this okay?” I’ve never been insecure, but for some reason, I am now.
I looked at my lackluster closet for an hour, trying to figure out something appropriate to wear.
Chris has money, and I didn’t want to embarrass him if we went somewhere nice.
In the end, I landed on charcoal-grey wide-leg pants—they have a stretchy waist, but they can pass for nice clothing—and a cream-colored short-sleeved bodysuit.
A pair of deep-purple heels tops everything off.
“Umm, yeah. It’s … Wow, you look incredible.”
“Did I make the infallible Surfer Boy speechless?” I cock my hip and grin. I take a second to look at his dark wash jeans and blue long-sleeve button-up shirt—rolled up at the sleeves—that makes his eyes pop to an alarming level.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, you did.” His hand reaches behind his neck and rubs the area. “Wow. Okay, yes, you look perfect. Are you ready?” He’s rambling, and I absolutely love it.
“Do I get any hints?” I brush up against him as I close the door behind me.
“Uh, no … Nope. No hints.”
“You okay there, Chris?” I ask, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
The wall of muscle I brushed up against has my mind firmly focused on one thing, and one thing only.
“If by okay, you mean distracted as hell and wondering why I decided to do something outside of our apartments instead of staying in, then sure. I’m okay.”
We both laugh as he leads me to his fancy SUV.
“Then mission accomplished on my end.” I smile at him before he shuts my door and walks around the hood to the driver’s side.
The drive is long—we’re going into New York City—so we talk about everything and nothing.
There’s no depth to the conversation, though, like we’re both treading water and afraid to get too deep.
It’s all bullshit surface-level shit, but I’m honestly okay with that.
I don’t need to know Chris better. I don’t need to know his deepest, darkest secrets.
I just need him to get me close to Cano once. And maybe fuck me a couple of times.
As we near the center of the city, I get an eerie feeling in the pit of my gut.
No, it’s just a coincidence. There are a million things to do in the city. There’s zero chance we’re going there.
Then we pull into the parking area for the MET, and my stomach drops all the way to my feet. My breathing gets shallow, and my vision blurs.
How the fuck is this my life? Even when I’m trying to keep shit separated, it all intertwines into a mess of wires that I’ll never be able to unravel.
“Hey, you okay?” Chris’s voice is distant, and I can’t fully focus on it.
“Umm, no, but just give me a second.”
Flashes of the last time I really spent time with my brother run through my head like a horror movie.
We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, but I had always loved the idea of the MET.
So much history in one place. I had been wanting to go for most of my life, and Charlie surprised me with a trip for my birthday.
It felt like the beginning of the end of life as I knew it, but I just didn’t know it then.
I blink, not realizing there are tears dripping down my cheeks until Chris gently wipes one away.
“I hit something with this. We can do something else,” he murmurs.
This moment, I make myself a promise. I’m going to walk through the MET and remember Charlie.
I’m going to remember all the good times, the good memories of my brother and happier times.
And then I’m going to shove it all into the box in my head and push it way down.
I’ll take the next couple of hours to remember the girl I used to be.
Because Chris did hit something here, and I wasn’t prepared to face it. Hell, I’m not sure I am ever going to face it. Maybe I’ve just had a death sentence this whole time, not really living and hoping to join Charlie at the end of it all.
The cold realization makes my resolve even stronger.
I don’t want to just survive. I don’t want to just live long enough to take revenge.
I think I want more if I’m lucky enough to survive.
“I apologize. I wasn’t expecting to come here or my reaction to it.” I clear my throat.
“Nova, it’s fine. Don’t apologize for that.”
I physically flinch at the use of my fake name. This moment feels too sacred to be called Nova. I should be going back here as Claire, Charlie’s twin sister, remembering a time when we were together once more.
“If you’re willing to deal with some emotions, I’d really like to go in. I know that’s a lot to ask.” I peer up at him.
“I’ll do anything you want right now. I just don’t want to do something that’s going to cause you pain, especially emotional one.”
This date has officially taken the worst turn in the history of dates. I should feel embarrassed, but I’m just grateful for a chance to be close to my brother once more. Maybe it’ll help direct me, lead me in the mission I’ve taken on.
With my tears dried up, I face him and nod that I’m ready to go. Once we’re out of the car, Chris’s hand hovers over my lower back as he leads us inside. We’re swooped past check-in and given a curt nod by an employee before being left alone in the exhibit.
I walk around, looking at the artwork, while Chris follows me from a distance. It’s like he knows I need a minute to just … be here. To remember Charlie and the life I once had. Sure, Chris doesn’t know details, but on some level, he understands it more than he should.
It’s a problem I’m choosing not to think about.
A walk through a room of sculptures makes me pause.
This was Charlie’s thing. I love the history, and Charlie loved the artwork.
Things that people could make with their hands and their imagination.
He always thought it was fascinating that people could do such things.
He once told me that he couldn’t draw a stick figure, but it didn’t deter him from loving all artwork.
I’d like to think he made his own art in the form of architecture, even if he didn’t see it.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped, or that the tears are falling again, until Chris wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest.
“I’m sorry if this ended up being a terrible idea for our date,” he murmurs.
“No, it’s totally not you. This … I think this is something I needed, even if it sucks in ways.
And it’s something I’ve been avoiding for far longer than I care to admit.
” I try to tell him in my own way how much being here means to me.
I can’t tell him about Charlie’s story in its totality, but I can let him know that I’m grateful to be here.
“Sometimes, facing our pasts is what we need to move forward, even if doing so hurts like a bitch.”
I laugh at his eloquent words mixed with the abrasive language. It works for the man, though.
“I’m not sure moving forward is in the cards for me,” I murmur.
“Maybe it just doesn’t look like what you thought it would,” he counters. “Moving forward means a lot of things. Sometimes, it’s just facing a hard truth and learning from it. That doesn’t change your whole life, but it’s still healing. It’s still progressing your life, just in minor ways.”
“You are very smart, you know that? And here I thought you were just some dumb dealer.” I smirk up at him.
His whole body tenses as he peers down at me. There’s something in his eyes, but I can’t quite make it out. Almost like he wants to tell me something but he’s shutting himself down.
The sad smile on his face confuses me even more. Is he sad this is where his life has gone? I mean, who plans to be a drug dealer, but it feels like more than that. Like there’s something else. Something he can’t tell me.
It should make me leery of him. It should make me pull back. Instead, I’m more intrigued than ever. I want to crack the outer shell that keeps all his secrets. I want to dig deeper into who Chris is and who he could be outside of this shitty world we live in.
Except I can’t because that would mean he would want to crack mine open as well.
“So, where to next?” His abrupt change of topic is welcome. I think we both need to shift to refocus ourselves.
“Umm, let’s just walk and see where life takes us.” I jolt at my words. Clingy, party of one.
“Sounds like a wonderful plan.” Chris gently presses on my lower back, leading me to the next room without drawing attention to careless words.
We stroll through four more rooms without uttering a word.
As much as I’m overthinking everything with this man, I’m also so damn happy to be at the MET.
I want to soak in every room. Remember this as a happy memory and a nod to Charlie.
We talked about facing our pasts, but somehow, I never thought coming here would be the thing that unlocked all my anger toward my brother.
It’s like the resentment I’ve built for his life taking a turn just melts away as I get deeper and deeper into the museum.
I’m remembering the good man, the smart man, and my best friend.
Chris and I spend hours walking through each room. God only knows what Chris is thinking. He’s probably rethinking this date as a whole, but I’m taking full advantage of this huge healing moment for myself.
In the last couple of hours, I’ve felt more like Claire than I have in far too long. Nova is nowhere to be seen, and I fucking miss Claire. More than I ever thought possible. It almost makes me rethink my plans, but I’ve worked too damn hard and sacrificed too damn much to go back now.
I’m so close I can practically taste it. Oscar Cano will go down, no matter the cost.
“Thank you,” I mutter as we head to the exit.
“No thanks needed. I’m glad I picked something you liked … for the most part.”
“I loved it. Every second. It just took me a minute to look past the sadness.” I smile up at him.