Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
S leep pulled at my limbs, dragging me under after days of restless nights. Three AM. The house creaked, settling into darkness. Just a few more breaths and?—
A scream shattered the silence.
My head snapped up, heart already racing. Another shriek echoed through the halls, higher this time, more desperate. Not a nightmare. Not mine, anyway.
"Olivia," I yelled, flying out of bed. The screaming didn't cease this time, and I couldn't get to her fast enough. I didn't bother knocking, flinging the door open. I searched the room for an intruder, but there was no one.
Jumping on the bed pulling her to me, I could see the distressing inner fight Olivia was having with herself and realized she was having a nightmare.
"Olivia." Her name came out rough, like I'd forgotten how to speak. She trembled against me, a leaf in a storm, and suddenly, she was twelve again. Same darkness. Same terror. Same helpless feeling clawing at my throat.
I pulled her closer, her heart hammering against my chest in broken rhythm with mine. "I'm here." The words felt hollow, echoes of promises I'd made and broken nine years ago. I'm here. I'll protect you. I won't leave.
Her fingers clutched my shirt, twisting the fabric until her knuckles went white. Each whimper drove another spike of guilt between my ribs. Back then, I'd known what to do—tell her stories, make her laugh, chase away the shadows with stupid jokes about her stuffed giraffe. Now my throat closed around useless words: You're safe. It's okay. Empty comfort from someone who'd abandoned her when she needed him most.
"Olivia?" I whispered her name like a question I was afraid to have answered. "Are you awake?"
She shuddered against me, caught between nightmare and reality. Nine years of nights like this one stretched between us. How many times had she woken up alone?
"Nick." Her whisper cut through my memories, fingers tightening around my hand.
She trembled against me, tears soaking into my shirt. "You're okay. Tell me what I can do." I brushed my thumb across her knuckles. "Water? Milk?" I paused. "Vodka?"
A watery laugh escaped her. She pulled away, swiping at her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "I want to run."
That answer surprised me, but then the realization hit me. She didn't run for exercise at four am every morning; she ran to escape the nightmares.
"Is that why you run so hard and fast so early in the morning?" I didn't need her to confirm because I knew the answer was yes. The first time I'd run with her, it had seemed she was running a race, but she was running to escape. “Then we'll run. I'll get changed; meet me downstairs."
Ten minutes later, we slipped out the back door and silently strolled down the dark path. Olivia's feet hit the track, and she was gone, a shadow against shadows. Around and around she ran, each lap faster than the last. I kept my own steady rhythm, watching her blur past me every few minutes. Her breathing grew ragged, desperate. Her footfalls became heavier, stumbling. Five miles in, I slowed to a walk, but she kept running—from what, I wasn't sure anymore. Running like the nightmares could be left behind if she just went fast enough, far enough.
This can't be good for her .
My gaze followed her until she finally stopped sinking to the grass. Approaching her, I handed her a towel. Neither of us said anything, so I sank to the ground next to her, giving her time to catch her breath.
The full moon shone bright in the night sky; the sun wasn't scheduled to rise for another hour. With only the comfort of the large track lights, the darkness around us was oddly soothing. Olivia's breathing was more even now as we continued to sit silently on the hard gravel of the track.
"How long have you been doing this?" My voice scattered across the empty track.
She tilted her head, brow furrowed.
"Running like this." I gestured at the pre-dawn darkness around us.
"A couple of years, I guess." Her gaze skipped across the horizon, never settling. "One morning in the new house," she hugged her knees to her chest, "Emmett was gone, and the walls just kept getting closer and closer. I felt like I had to get out of the house, so I ran and kept running until I forgot why I was running in the first place." She paused, swallowing hard. "After that, when I had a nightmare, I got up and ran."
"Did Emmett get you help?" The words scraped my throat. "Professional help?"
"The school counselor talked to me a few times."
"The school—" My fingers dug into my palms. Trust Emmett to do the bare minimum, to find the cheapest possible option. Images of the inheritance documents flashed through my mind: seven figures, all of it earmarked for Olivia's care. My jaw ached from clenching.
"He said we couldn't afford anything else."
A bitter laugh threatened to escape. I forced it down, tasting copper. That was bullshit, and it angered me. Emmett's parents were well off when they died, not to mention the extraordinarily large life insurance policies they had. Olivia's parent’s business had never been failing; a large inheritance was left, and there was no debt. I knew all this because Emmett and I met with a lawyer after their death. I know exactly what assets they had and the exact numbers for the amount they were worth. I will get to the bottom of this if it kills me.
"Was Emmett there for you?" The track gravel crunched under my shifting weight. I already knew, but I needed to hear it.
Her fingers played with the hem of her running shorts. "He was there physically for a while." A muscle twitched in her jaw. "But eventually, he started to disappear. It was mostly Anthony and me." She tilted her face toward the stadium lights, shadows cutting across her cheeks. "He had his way of grieving, I guess. Made sure I had money. Just..." Her shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. "Wasn't good at the emotional stuff."
She nudged my shoulder with hers, forcing lightness into her voice. "I've told you all my secrets. Your turn."
"I don't have any secrets." The smile I offered felt brittle at the edges. "What do you want to know?"
She traced patterns in the gravel with one finger, shoulders hunched. "Why didn't you come back?"
My chest constricted. The track lights buzzed overhead, filling the silence as I searched for an answer I'd avoided for nine years.
I checked in regularly with Emmett in the beginning and sent money for Olivia weekly as agreed so that her money would remain in a new account until she turned 18. I'd received my portion of the inheritance days before the summer ended. I left and never looked back.
The Ryan family attorney contacted me several times about meeting with him about dividing assets, but I didn't want them; I thought it should go to Olivia and Emmett.
"I don't know," I finally replied. "I should have, but I guess I was trying to escape that summer myself."
"I wish I could have escaped with you," she said no louder than a whisper. Throwing my arm around her shoulder, I pulled her into me, and she rested her head on my shoulder.
"I should have taken you with me." The words slipped out before I could catch them. But I was just a dumb college kid with a dream. I had no idea how to take care of a little girl, but apparently neither did Emmett. My chest tightened as I realized he was younger than I was, and he was expected to care for his little sister.
"So..." Olivia drew out the word, tilting her face up to mine. That look in her eyes—half mischief, half something else—made my chest tight. Not the proposal again. Please. "How come you never settle down? All these women, but never the right one?"
A laugh escaped, more reflex than humor. Classic Olivia, going for the jugular with a smile.
"I guess I'm not a one-woman kind of guy," was my brush-off reply.
"Hey." She nudged my shoulder. "I showed you my scars. Your turn." Her voice softened. "Was it... was it because of that summer?
My smirk slipped. Damn her for always seeing through the bullshit. "Partly," I guessed, but I knew if it had something to do with it, it was minor. She urged me with her eyes to continue. With an exasperated sigh, I continued. "It's not the primary reason." I paused and swallowed hard. "After that summer, I came back to school at USF, and it was about that time that I met all of my good friends now, and it was also the time that I met Victoria Cross. I'd never dated anyone seriously before her, and it got serious quickly. I had a hard time when I came back, and Tori helped me. She was there for me. I thought she was the one I was going to marry." I stopped thinking back to the beautiful, tall blonde with blue eyes.
"What happened?"
"We dated for several years." I traced patterns in the gravel with my finger, avoiding Olivia's gaze. "Everything seemed perfect until that last summer. Justin and I were launching the company, burning through savings and sleep. And Tori..." My hand stilled. "She was in Paris for a summer class. Her emails got shorter. Then stopped. Should've seen it coming, really."
"What happened?"
The moon caught the dust I'd kicked up, making it shimmer. "Turned out she'd fallen for someone else. Some trust fund kid in her class. I found out when I went to pick her up at the airport and she wasn't on the plane. She'd flown back weeks earlier—to Vegas. To marry him."
"That sucks." Olivia shook her head.
"I thought she was different. I thought she loved me and not my money, but once she realized I sank every bit of cash I had into my business, she checked out. The guy she married was wealthy by birth, and it turned out that she was only interested in his money. She divorced him about a year later. She took a rather large settlement from the divorce and started her clothing line. After that, I vowed that all women were the same and that I would never trust one again."
"Did you love her?" Olivia's fingers stilled on her lap.
The question deserved more than a quick answer. I stared at the dark outline of trees beyond the track. "No." The certainty in my voice surprised me. "Now, I don't think I did."
"Where is she now?" Olivia leaned forward, moonlight catching the curve of her cheek. "Did you ever see her again?"
My lips quirked. "Actually, yes." I rolled a piece of gravel between my fingers. "We're friends now. She shows up occasionally."
Olivia drew her knees closer to her chest. "Did she ever try to get you back?"
"Yes, about a month after the divorce and about a week after my picture was on the cover of Forbes magazine. We talked, but I wasn't interested in being her bank account." I stood and extended my hand to help her up. "We should head back to the house. I have some business to attend to this morning, and you should try to get some sleep." I brushed a strand of hair, which had fallen out of her loose ponytail, behind her ear. "You look exhausted."
"Come with me?" Her voice was small, fragile.
My pulse hammered against my ribs. Every inch of skin remembered how she'd felt curled against me during the nightmare. Heat crawled up my neck.
"I can't." The words scraped out of my throat.
She pushed herself to her feet, wrapping her arms around her middle. A quick nod, eyes fixed on the ground. Understanding what I couldn't say.