19. Naz #2
“Do you know what ran through my mind when I came out of that building and you were gone?”
I turn to him.
“I really am sorry, I thought I saw–”
“I told you not to move, under any circumstances.”
“I know. And I didn’t set out to disobey you,” I say, my tone getting snarky. “But I had a good reason.”
“I really don’t care what your reasoning was, Naz. For a moment there…” His voice catches almost imperceptibly. “I thought something bad had happened to you. That I’d put you in danger by letting you come with me. I imagined the worst.”
The words settle between us.
He’s angry, but it’s more than that. He was truly afraid.
I look down at my hands. “I’m sorry,” I say again, because there’s nothing left for me to say.
He doesn’t answer.
After another long few minutes of tense silence, I quietly ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
His eyes flick up, and I follow his gaze to the rearview mirror. The driver’s eyes fall back to the road.
Scott gives the smallest shake of his head. “Later. I need to cool down first anyway.”
I sigh and lean back against the seat. “Alright.”
The rest of the drive passes in silence. By the time we pull up in front of Will and Ari’s condo building, the sky has darkened to a deep, stormy blue, and the moon is blocked by more rain clouds. It’s all very ominous.
The doorman greets us the moment we step inside. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He smiles warmly until his eyes land on Scott. The smile falters. “Is everything alright?”
Ignoring the pleasantries, Scott heads straight for the elevators. They open immediately, and I hurry to get inside with him. I pull an exaggerated wince that earns me an amused chuckle from the older man just as the elevator door slides closed.
Next to me, Scott is anything but amused. He doesn’t even look at me, just stands there, radiating tension.
The elevator ride is mercifully short. When the doors open, we’re greeted by enough shouting and laughter that it sounds more like a college dorm than a luxury condo. It seems AJ, Dez, and Monty all had entirely too much fun pretending to be rockstars for the day.
“Yo, even the doorman bought it,” AJ insists excitedly. Behind him, Alonso rolls his eyes good-naturedly.
“The doorman was expecting guests,” Charles says in a way that makes me think it isn’t his first time he’s mentioned this fact.
“Nah, we fooled him.”
Chuckling at Charles’ exasperated sigh, I head to the kitchen and find leftover pizza and antipasto salad.
The pizza is cold and the salad is warmer than it should be, but I’m hungry enough that it doesn’t matter.
I make myself a plate, then load one up for Scott.
He accepts the plate without complaint before retreating to a corner of the room, where he eats in silence.
I can feel him watching me from across the room.
His bad mood penetrates the playful atmosphere, until I divert attention to what they’ve been up to the past few hours and where they’re headed when they’re done here.
The three football players, driven mostly by AJ, roughhouse and cut up a lot while Alonso and I sit back and watch them act like fools.
While they’re distracted, I escape into the second bedroom to call home again.
I talk to Simon, who assures me everything is fine, and then to Zane, who assures me there’s been no sign of people, drones, or anything else suspicious.
He rechecked the entire house, including my grandparents’ and Simon’s things, for any kind of tracking or recording devices.
And lastly, he relays that everyone is on track to arrive as scheduled.
They’re staggering their arrivals both for safety and to minimize any further stress for my grandparents.
I end the call and head back into the living room to hang out with everyone, feeling reassured that the plan is working so far, but no less stressed that I’m not there.
Eventually, Lawrence arrives. After leveling me, and then Scott, with a distinctly unimpressed look, he tells the guys that the coast is clear and they’re free to leave. There are cars downstairs ready to take them wherever they need to go.
Scott comes forward to thank everyone for their help, shaking hands and accepting an audible pound on the back from AJ.
“Man, what’d you do to piss everybody off?” AJ whispers as he wraps one arm around me for a quick hug. The others shake my hand or pat me on the shoulder as I thank them for helping us out and promise to tell them everything when it’s safe to do so.
Alonso is the last to reach for my hand, pulling me in to kiss me on the cheek. “Send the others my love, and good luck with that one,” he says with a wink, then follows the riffraff out.
Lawrence is the last to leave, looking like he might want to say something, but he holds his tongue and closes the door behind him.
I fall back onto the couch cushions with a heavy breath. Silence settles over the condo. The tension between us and the events of the day start to sink in, as if running around all day kept the reality of our situation at bay until the stillness set in.
My mind spins, reliving every moment of the day in a montage of intense feelings, confusion, and heartache.
I started off today feeling numb. The news about the drone attacks had torn me right out of the floaty, fulfilled feeling I’d been in after our day-long session and a morning joking around.
After that, learning that Scott had been getting texts from whoever has been trying to scare or maybe even hurt me and the people I love most had sent me reeling.
I don’t think I slept at all last night, too busy worrying over scenarios where the plan we made could go wrong.
Of all the things that could happen, I never once considered an outcome where Scott wouldn’t be part of my life anymore.
Even when I acknowledged the possibility that he could be fired, I assumed I’d be able to fix it.
That no matter what, he’d be coming home with me.
Because I‘ve gotten used to having him in my space, whether I pretend to hate it or not.
And after everything I’ve done to push him away, I’m not sure I ever really considered that it was a real possibility. I always just selfishly assumed that he’d be there, that he’d continue to overlook all my flaws, that he’d want to be by my side for whatever reason has kept him here this long.
What if I finally did it? What if I finally managed to push him away? What if he’s realized I’m just as selfish, self-absorbed, and useless as my family thinks I am?
When the silence has gone on too long, broken only by the ominous sounds of another rainstorm brewing outside, and I’ve worried myself into an existential nightmare, I turn to Scott and whisper, “I’m sorry.”