Chapter 8 #2
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at them.
“Okay. Okay!” Sophie exclaimed.
“We’ll stop,” Ashlen promised.
“No more talk of guys,” Kat said.
Then, they all looked at each other and laughed. There was no way they were going to keep that promise. In fact, it started up again five minutes later.
“So, Ashlen,” Alex said, a grin on her face, “when is Mercer going to pop the question?”
Ashlen choked on her wine, and she coughed before saying, “That’s payback for earlier, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Alex said. “Yes, it is.”
? ? ?
Nate blew out a breath and knocked on the door of a farmhouse off State Road 135, twenty miles south of Indianapolis. He hadn’t expected to be back here so quickly, but after agreeing to John Stratton’s plan, he needed his armor back.
A few tense moments passed before he heard movement from behind the door.
A figure peered through a curtained window, and then the door flung open.
A small woman in her sixties opened the door.
Her pepper and salt hair was pulled into a bun, and her face lit up.
Diana Wilson came forward out of the doorway and hugged Nate before he could say or do anything.
He immediately wrapped his arms around her, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.
“Oh, Nathan,” Ms. Wilson cooed. “You look a little worse for wear. What happened?”
“A lot,” Nate said, pulling back from her.
He tried to smile, but he knew it didn’t reach his face.
“I have a feeling you aren’t here for a visit, are you?” she asked.
Ms. Wilson could read anybody. She had taught Calculus at Nate’s high school for over thirty years and had that ability after thousands of students had gone through her classes.
She had read Nate the moment she’d caught him skipping class.
Unlike everyone else, Nate’s parents included, Ms. Wilson saw a troubled kid, looking for attention and a place to belong.
Knowing that Nate had been a rising star when he had been a freshman and sophomore, she told him she’d only give him lunch detention if he could answer a math problem.
Nate was given a particularly hard differential equation, and he nailed it. An odd mentorship was born.
Even though Nate had been failing his classes (because he wasn’t turning in any work), he would spend time with Ms. Wilson: before school, after school, during lunchtime.
She tried to get him to pull his grades up, but she knew his background and never pushed.
Nate figured she probably thought he’d spook and disappear if she didn’t continue to be that mom figure he never had since his mom was a narcissistic bitch.
Unfortunately, Nate did drift away. He started drinking and got into a lot of trouble.
Every time he had a blow-up with his parents, his behavior got worse.
Nate stopped spending time with Ms. Wilson and started partying full-time.
He got arrested a few times, and his dad ended up paying off teachers so he could graduate.
Not long after that, his father told him he wished he had never been born, and that was the final straw. Nate stole money and some of his mother’s jewelry and left, ending up homeless and becoming a drug addict. The rest was history.
When he reconnected with Ms. Wilson a few years after he had joined the Conglomerate, she had been thrilled to see him doing well, but he had made her promise not to tell a soul.
And she had kept that promise. He visited her as much as he could.
She was the only real family he had left, besides Logan, and he didn’t want to muddy his brother’s life.
“I wish I were,” Nate admitted, focusing back on their conversation.
“Come on in. I’m sure you’re here for your stuff, but you’re at least going to have a meal first. You look so thin!”
Nate knew he looked gaunt. He had tried to eat as much as he could and exercise to try to gain some muscle back. However, it was going to take a while. It also didn’t help that he was still nauseous half the time. Whatever drugs Sims had given him were a bitch.
“Been through a lot the last couple of months,” he replied.
That was the understatement of the year.
She led him to the kitchen and to a small table off to the side. He had a heaping plate of lasagna sitting in front of him and a glass of lemonade only moments later.
“Eat,” she told him firmly, and he smiled wryly.
Ms. Wilson was the mother he wished he had, and since she had no husband or children, he became her adopted child.
His mom fed her ego through praising Logan’s accomplishments and tearing down Nate’s self-esteem.
She was obsessed with status and money, which was why they had a beautiful house, expensive furniture, pricey clothing, and luxury items, while Nate had to beg for clothes that didn’t have fucking holes in them.
No, thank you.
Nate shoveled food in his mouth, not worrying about the lingering nausea. This was the first home-cooked meal he had had since the last time he visited, and he had never expected to have one again after being trapped in Sims’ torture chamber.
After he had cleaned the plate and then a second one, Ms. Wilson said, “I suppose you’re here for that secret thing you dropped off.”
“Yeah,” Nate said, nodding.
He had been grateful she had taken his armor, even after he explained to her that housing it would put her in danger.
She hadn’t cared and had stored it in an old 1960s bomb shelter that was still on the property.
All she ever wanted to do was help him, and she refused to take anything in compensation.
She smiled sadly and said, “I knew you were about to get into more trouble with…whatever it is you do. From the looks of it, you’ve had it rough. They got to you, didn’t they?”
Nate had never told her who he worked for or what he did, and when shit had hit the fan, he had only said his ex-employer was after him.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
What else was he supposed to say?
Yeah, Ms. Wilson, I was locked inside a mental ward for a couple of months, shot up with experimental drugs, and tortured.
That wouldn’t go well. She had always been protective of him, though she knew what he did was dangerous.
“We’ll go get it packed up. I know you have to get going.”
“Yeah.”
They went outside and trudged to the old fallout shelter.
Ms. Wilson unlocked it, and they descended into the concrete bunker.
It was being used as storage with some provisions in case of a tornado.
Nate’s suit was in the back, packed in a large crate.
The suit was split up into several pieces, making it slightly easier to dress and transport.
However, the thing was still cumbersome.
“I’ll get the dolly,” Nate said.
“Want me to pull that big truck of yours around?” Ms. Wilson asked.
“Think you can handle it?” Nate asked, a slight smile hitting his lips.
“I’ve been driving stuff like that since before you were born, child,” she sassed him.
Nate chuckled and started the process of getting his armor out of storage.
The thing was around a hundred and ten pounds, which was actually light, considering that it had to account for shielding, the power source, onboard electronics, drug pumps, and environmental control.
That was for the full suit too: from the boots up to the helmet.
Nate had no idea what the thing was made from, but it wasn’t a normal material.
After half an hour, he was packed and ready to go. Ms. Wilson gave him a sad smile.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, Nathan, but I wish you the best. One day, I want you to come back here, living a normal life. Bring a girl. Have a home. Tell me you’re getting married—something.”
Nate snorted at the absurdity of his ever getting married but grinned anyhow. He did want to come back and show Ms. Wilson he had cleaned up all these bad choices—not just the drugs but his involvement in the Conglomerate.
“I’m serious,” Ms. Wilson said.
She opened her arms for a hug. Nate obliged, welcoming her embrace.
She was the only real female affection he’d ever had.
Sure, the Conglomerate gave them time to leave and shack up with women, but that wasn’t the same.
There was no connection. Ms. Wilson was the mother Nate had never had, and he was grateful she was there for him when no one else was.
“I love you, Nathan. Take care.”
He knew she didn’t expect him to say those words back; he never had before. But today, for some reason, this was important.
“I love you, too,” he whispered.
Nate turned and walked away quickly before she could say anything to him. She knew. He just hoped he could return in one piece as the man he had always meant to be.