Chapter Fourteen
Gone
Rowan
Nash had made his decision. He was going back on tour. I can’t say I was surprised by this, especially after how he’d been acting over the past few days. No, I wasn’t surprised at all. Nash was a runner. Well, so was I, and it was time for me to go.
“You didn’t say goodbye to everyone.”
I stared at the doorway, where he was standing, and shrugged. He stepped inside the room, and I felt trapped. Trapped in his stare. Trapped by my need for him. Trapped.
“It’s only two weeks, Ro.”
He acted as if it was no big deal, as if he hadn’t spent the past two days avoiding me, neglecting me…blaming me. Well, he needed to take a number, because I blamed me. I should have known that Maeve was worse off than she’d led me to believe. She was a trickster at heart and I was her number one fool. God, how I miss her. Nash stepped closer.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone when you get back.”
“Don’t.” His quiet response sounded like a plea. I waited for him to explain, but all he said was, “Stay.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe not, but I’m asking,” he quickly responded.
“Why?”
“Because I care.” I shot him a look of disbelief, and he continued, “I care, Rowan. I may not have my head on straight right now, but don’t mistake that for not caring. I –I promised Mom that I wouldn’t quit. I need to do this for her…and for me. I know it’s selfish, but it’s two weeks. Please…stay.”
“And then what, Nash?” I didn’t mean to challenge him, but it slipped out.
“I come home, and we figure shit out.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, all I’m asking is for you to wait.” I felt his discomfort, tasted his pain. We were together, yet apart, and I was caught between wanting to run and needing to stay. I could feel myself starting to cave.
“Will I hear from you?” His lips lifted into a small smile. It was the first I’d seen in three days and it made me feel victorious.
“Every day,” he answered without hesitation.
“Can we talk about what happened?” In the blink of an eye his smile disappeared, and the walls were back up.
“No.”
“Why not?” A part of me said don’t push, but a bigger part said screw it. We needed to talk about what happened. If we didn’t, it would be over before it even started.
“I’m not ready.”
Well, I am,” I countered.
“God, Ro. Can’t you see how hard this is for me? I’m literally drowning in guilt, here.” His words made no sense.
“What in the world do you have to feel guilty about?”
His brow shot up in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I had no idea where he was going with this, but I sure as hell wanted to hear it.
“My mother was downstairs dying while I was up here,” he swept his hand dramatically across the room, “fucking you!” I felt as if I’d been gut punched. Before I could respond, he was out the door. Surprise, hurt, and anger…burn-the-house-down kind of anger, swept through me.
Is that what he thinks? That’s what’s been eating him alive? Stupid man. I rushed down the hall after him. When I got to his room, he was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.
His eyes lifted to mine, and I blasted him. “First of all, it wasn’t just a fuck for me, so thanks for that. Second, your mother was alive both before and after we slept together, so you can rest assured that your,” I flicked my eyes to his crotch and then back to his face, “penis didn’t kill her. If you want to feel guilty about something, feel guilty about treating me like shit for the past three days. Have a nice trip, Nash.” I turned and stormed out of his room.
“Rowan!” he called down the hall after me. Instead of turning to see what he wanted, I held up my middle finger. Nash Bostwick could kiss my ass.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. As I lay there tossing and turning, our fight played over and over again in my mind. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Nash loved his mother more than anything in the world. I was hurt because he’d belittled what we’d shared together, but this really wasn’t about us. This was about him coming to grips with his mother’s death.
At some point, I must have drifted to sleep, because when I woke, the sun was peeking through the curtains. After brushing my teeth, I threw on a sweatshirt and made my way downstairs to talk to him. Only, he wasn’t there.
Sitting on the table was a piece of paper with two words written on it. Please Stay.
With a heavy heart, I carried my cup of coffee into the living room, where I curled into Maeve’s favorite chair and cried. Maeve was gone. Nash was gone. And I was all alone with nothing but my broken heart and a shit pile of regrets.
The next few days were rough. I was an emotional basket case. It didn’t help that Nash hadn’t bothered to call or text. I picked up my phone a million times to text him, but each time I talked myself out of it. He needed space, and no matter how much I hated it, I needed to give it to him. So I scoured the kitchen and bathrooms, read the newspaper from front to back, and even started reading one of Maeve’s Romance novels. The fact that it took place on a planet named Zorg was a little disconcerting, but it helped to pass the time. What I did not do was call Nash.
When Mallory called to invite me to lunch the next day, I almost cried. By the time we hung up, we’d planned the entire day. Not only were we going to lunch, but we were also going shopping. I was thrilled to be getting out of this house. Maybe she would have some tips on how to handle Nash, because clearly I wasn’t doing so well.
That night, as I was crawling into bed, my phone buzzed. When I saw that I had a text message from Nash, my heart skipped a million beats. Before reading what it said, I closed my eyes and made a wish. Please, let this not be the end. Then I opened my eyes and read it.
Nash – I’m Sorry.
His message was short and sweeter than I’d ever imagined. There were a million things I wanted to say, but in the end, only one thing mattered. I was sorry, too. So that’s what I wrote.
Rowan – Me, too.
He didn’t text again that night, but at least I knew that he was thinking about me. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, and, for the first time since Maeve’s death, I slept through the night.
The next morning I woke with the same smile on my face. After a quick shower, I threw on some sweats and padded downstairs to make coffee. While waiting for the coffee to brew, I thought about Nash’s text, and wondered if I’d read too much into it. It was kind of hard to read too much into two words, but he had a lot to be sorry about. As I mulled over his text, I poured my cup of coffee. On the way to the stairs, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I took a few steps back to see what it was, and froze. There, sitting in Maeve’s favorite chair, was my worst nightmare.
“Good morning, Gillian,” he drawled. I blinked in surprise, and then I was running. In a flash, he was after me. Hot coffee scalded my hand, and I turned and hurled it at him. As I bounded up the stairs, I chucked the coffee cup at him. He laughed when it whizzed past his head and crashed against the wall. Right as I reached my bedroom door he caught up with me. I shrieked in both anger and fear as he tackled me to the ground. “Got you,” he whispered in my ear, and I froze underneath him. “It has been a fun little game of cat and mouse, hasn’t it? Did you like the picture? How about the rose? I have to admit, I was sorry to see the old broad go. Now there was a woman with spunk.” My head swam with the implications of his words. I opened my mouth to scream, and he slammed his hand over my mouth. His ring sliced into my lip and I grunted in pain. He dipped his head as if to kiss me, and I jerked back. I screamed when he wrenched my head sideways. “Night. Night,” he whispered against my ear. Then he plunged a needle deep into my neck. His hateful eyes seared through me as his hand muffled my screams. Right before my world went dark, his words sank in.
It was never Nash’s stalker. It was mine.