Chapter 15
NOVA
Iallow myself to cry for the exact length of time it takes to drive from the Low Bar to my apartment. The moment I park, I wipe my face, straighten my shoulders, and shut it down. No more emotions, no more thinking about him. I have things to do now.
The good thing about having such a small apartment is that there’s not much to pack.
The crappy furniture came with the place, not that I’d want to take it with me anyhow.
I’ve never been one for keeping a bunch of stuff.
Growing up, I couldn’t, not with my mom and the way she moved us around.
I’d kept that habit into adulthood, not collecting many possessions over the years.
I have a few drawers and a small closet of clothes and shoes, just enough to fit into two suitcases.
There’s one box of dishes, with room to spare.
I use that extra space to hold the few books and framed pictures I own.
My sketchpads and drawing pencils go into my tote bag, and my sheets and pillows fit in my laundry basket.
Twenty minutes, and my entire life is packed up.
I look around the dingy little space, noting that it doesn’t look too much different from before I started. My few possessions didn’t make much of an impact.
Story of my life, I think, fresh tears gathering in my eyes. I move through this world like a fucking ghost, not making connections, not settling down. When I leave this place, it will be like I was never here at all.
Except for Linc, I remind myself, wiping my eyes—so much for my promise to be done with the emotions.
Linc gives a shit, and I’m going to be putting him in a rough spot leaving without any warning.
They’ll have to reschedule all my clients for the month, and he’s going to be hurting until he can hire another artist.
For the briefest moment, I wonder if I should stay after all.
At least give him a few weeks to get things in order.
But then I think about seeing Lawson and I know there’s no way I can stay, not even for another day.
How could I sit there working in my tattoo station, knowing what happened there between us?
We’ve fucked a few times. No big deal.
I shake my head, trying to block out the words I overheard.
I’ll call Linc from the road and explain.
He’ll understand. No one wants me to get far away from my uncle more than Linc.
I laugh at that, the bitter, half-sobbing sound echoing around the empty room.
Funny, I spent all this time planning my escape from the most notorious drug dealer in three counties and in the end, it was a gorgeous boy with dark eyes and a wicked smile that finally made me run.
A banging on my door halts my slightly hysterical laugh. Then a voice, his voice, shouting my name. “Are you in there, baby? Nova, answer the door, please.”
I stand frozen, the urge to hide overwhelming. I can’t look at that man’s face, not when the echo of his words won’t vacate my thoughts. I wanted to avoid this, to get out of here without having to say goodbye.
I don’t want him to see how much he broke me.
“Nova, your car is downstairs,” he calls. “I’m going to use my key.”
Fuck, why had I given him a key? At the time, I’d told myself it was the easiest way to facilitate our hook-ups, but I know the truth.
I gave it to him because I wanted him in my apartment as often as I could have him.
I gave it to him because I trusted him with access to my space. I trusted him with me.
I was so damn blind.
When I hear the sound of the key in the door, I consider bolting, but I’m not going to lower myself to hiding in the closet. I’m going to have to face him, this man who shattered my heart. So I straighten my shoulders and wipe my face, determined that he won’t see what he did to me.
He bursts through the door and then stops dead at the sight of me. His eyes travel down to the suitcases at my feet and something twists in his expression.
“Nova?”
“I’m leaving.” I’m proud of how steady my voice sounds—not at all like someone in utter agony.
His eyes snap to my face, wide and wild. He looks on the brink of losing control, panicked and confused. “Wait—you can’t—I—”
“I should have left a few weeks ago,” I continue over his stammering. “I found a job and—”
“No.” The wild expression sharpens into something harder, more intense, and he strides toward me, hands going to my face. “You can’t leave. Not like this.”
I want nothing more than to allow myself to nestle into those big, strong hands that cradle my face.
I noticed his hands that first day at the fair, the way they looked roughened by work, and gotten to know them very well over the last few months.
These hands had brought me to unimaginable pleasure.
They’d also held me, comforted me, given me strength.
But it had all been a lie. Every minute that I sat next to this man, or laid with him in his bed or mine, I’d believed we were building something.
Despite our insistence that it remain casual between us, we both knew the truth, that we had become more.
At least, I thought we’d both known it. Apparently, I was on my own there.
It’s that knowledge that gives me the strength to step out of his hold. I ignore the stricken look on his face and raise my chin. “I was always leaving, Lawson. You knew that.”
“I don’t want you to,” he blurts out. “I never wanted you to. I want us to try to—”
“I heard you,” I say quietly, and he stops mid-sentence. There’s pain on his face and shame in his eyes. What he doesn’t look is confused, or surprised.
“Oh,” I murmur, realizing what must have happened. “Sawyer told you I was there.” Of course he had—those boys tell each other everything. They’re the most important people in each other’s lives. I don’t begrudge them that. It’s the way it’s supposed to be, with family.
I’d just been stupid enough to think he might someday put me in that category as well.
“I know what you heard,” Lawson says, reaching for me again, but I step back. I can’t let him touch me. I don’t know if I would survive it. “But you don’t understand.”
“I understand plenty. This didn’t mean anything to you.” I shrug, desperate to keep my feelings under wrap. He doesn’t get to see them, not anymore. “And that’s fine. It’s what we agreed to."
“What we agreed to is bullshit and we both know it,” he snaps. “We were never casual. Not since the moment we went up in that balloon.”
I can’t stop myself from wincing. I don’t want to think about that night, not now. But Lawson sees my expression and I think he must take it as confirmation that I feel more than I’m letting on. He steps close again, bending a little so our faces are close.
“What you heard tonight—”
“Was a wakeup call,” I say. “It made me realize that I was getting in too deep with someone who didn’t feel the same way.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps. “Of course I feel the same way!” His expression is back to being wild, panicked. “Nova, I’m in love with you!”
If I thought hearing his conversation earlier hurt, it was nothing on this.
How dare he? How fucking dare he utter those words when he’s made it impossible for me to believe him?
I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve ever said they loved me, with a few fingers left over. And he says it now? Like this?
“Fuck you Lawson,” I gasp out, and damn it, the tears are back. I don’t want him to see me cry. He looks stricken, reaching for my face, but I smack his hands away. “You don’t get to say that to me after what I overheard tonight.”
“What you overheard tonight was bullshit,” he shouts. “I was lying, Nova. I was trying to protect you, to protect us.”
I stare at him. “What the hell are you talking about? How does it protect me for you to tell one of your brothers, or whoever the hell you were talking to, that you don’t give a shit about me?”
He shakes his head, eyes closing like he’s in pain. “It wasn’t one of my brothers.”
“Who was it then?”
When his eyes snap open, I wish I hadn’t asked. He looks agonized, destroyed. As angry and hurt as I am, it hurts even more to see him like that. He wrecked me tonight, but that doesn’t mean the love I have for him just disappears.
Then he opens his mouth and it all gets so much worse.
“It was your uncle. It was Victor King, Nova.”
I stare at him, sure I must have misheard him. “I don’t under…my uncle was there? At your bar?”
He nods, jaw clenched tight. “He wanted us to work out a deal. Wanted to be able to use the bar for his business.”
I take a step back, horror washing over me, but Lawson isn’t done.
“He said I owed him, now that we were together. Don’t you get it, Nova?
I was trying to convince him that he was wrong so he would back off.
So he wouldn’t go to my brothers—or fuck, to you.
” He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean a word of it.
I just wanted him to think that we weren’t that serious so he would stop. ”
My brain feels muddled, too overloaded to process everything. “My uncle came to you…” I murmur, then cover my face. “Oh, God. I brought that monster to your doorstep. This is all my fault.”
“No,” he says sharply, tugging my hands away so he can see my face. “Nothing about it is your fault.”
I shake my head, panic rising. “But he wouldn’t even know about you or the bar if it wasn’t for me. He wouldn’t…” something about the expression on Lawson’s face has me trailing off. “Lawson?”
“He knew us before you.”
My stomach churns. Somehow, I get the feeling I’m not going to like what he says next.
He takes a deep breath, like he’s fortifying himself. “Mac borrowed money from him, back when he first opened the bar. The deal was that King could use the bar for his business until the loan was paid in full.”
I stare at him. “Use the business how?”