Chapter Twenty-Six
Going Home
Rowan
When I woke, Nash was no longer beside me in bed. I discovered him sitting in the chair by the window lightly strumming his guitar. With his head bowed and his eyes closed, he looked at peace. I envied him. Peace had evaded me for so long now that I wondered if I would ever feel it again. All it had taken was one encounter with the wrong man to lose something so valuable, something I took for granted. Never again. In the blink of an eye Conor O’Brien had completely obliterated my world. Gavin was dead. Maeve was dead. My father was dead. My only consolation was that Conor was hopefully rotting in the deepest pits of hell. God knows he deserved it. The man who had single handedly ruined my life was finally gone. I should be celebrating, but instead all I felt was…empty. Nash’s eyes snapped to mine and flared in surprise when he noticed me staring at him. He smiled and my heart ached with longing. Nash would have loved Gavin. He would have agreed that my father was a sweet, selfish man, but he would have liked him regardless of his faults. The family, friends, and life that once belonged to Gillian Gallagher, was no more. I felt displaced, like a stranger in my own skin. I felt as if I was walking a line between two lives.
“Hey,” Nash called out. Our eyes met across the empty room, mine with confusion and his in understanding.
“Will you play me your song?” I asked. With a nod of his head, he began to play his guitar. Cold chills shot up my spine as the music filled the room. As if the instrument was an extension of his being, his fingers expertly danced across the strings. I stared in awe. His skill was magnetic, his talent immeasurable. He was simply…breathtaking. The chills morphed into something else entirely as he began to sing. Love, lust, call it what you will. It was overwhelming, all encompassing…everything.
He walked. You stayed.
You cried. I raged.
The pain nearly swallowed us whole.
Darkness, sweet darkness, your temptress, my friend. You love me. Don’t leave me.
This isn’t the end.
No, this isn’t the end.
My eyes were riveted on his fingers as they gracefully glided across the strings. His raspy tone paired with such heartbreaking lyrics nearly swept me away. I identified with the pain and understood the loss all too well. He was singing about his mother, but it wasn’t just that. He was also singing about my parents, about Gavin, and for anyone who’d ever lost a loved one.
Love me now. Show me how, how to be enough.
Forgive me. Don’t forget me. Please…please don’t let me.
Don’t let me.
Please…don’t let me go.
Don’t you fucking let me go.
His intense blue eyes lifted from the guitar to mine as he sang that last line, and I was caught in his stare, completely captivated and utterly annihilated by his words. I wanted to scream for him to stop, yet beg him to continue.
You’re gone, but I’m still here, left drowning in my fear.
The pain, it’s swallowing me whole.
Darkness, sweet darkness, my temptress, my friend. Don’t take her.
Don’t destroy me.
Don’t let this be the end.
Please…say this isn’t the end.
Tears poured from my eyes as I cried for the loss of Maeve, Gavin, and my father…as I cried for the loss of Gillian, all the time I’d spent running, and all the lies I was forced to tell along the way.
Love me now. Show me how. I promise I’ll be enough.
Please forgive me. Don’t forget to. I’ll forever let you.
Forever let you.
I’ll forever let you know.
That you are mine…my sweet Rowan.
Only mine.
And I will never let you go.
Once the song was over, Nash abruptly put down his guitar. In three strides he was beside me. He lifted me from the bed, and I tried to wrap my arms around him as he crawled in next to me, but the pain was too much. Sensing my frustration, he gently gathered me into his arms while I cried.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I sobbed against his chest.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against the top of my hair, “and I’m never letting you go.” I wanted to be his more than anything in the entire world, but so much had happened since that night we were together. So much pain. So much loss. Where did we even begin? Could we pick up the pieces? I wasn’t sure anymore.
I gingerly pulled back from his chest so I could look him in the eyes. “I’m a mess, Nash. Seriously, my head is a mess right now–”
“Shhhhh.” He placed his fingers on my lips. “You’ve been through hell and back. I get it. I want you to come home with me. Hell, you own half of it. You can stay in your room and I promise not to put any pressure on you. Just…let me take care of you.” The vulnerability in his eyes melted my heart. Then it hit me what he’d said.
“What do you mean I own half of it?” His head tilted back as he belted out a bark of laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile. Then he settled me back into the cradle of his arms and told me what his mother had done for me. By the time he finished the story he had me laughing and crying at the same time. “I loved her,” I tearfully sighed.
“I know you did, and she loved you. You were the daughter she never had.” His voice was thick with emotion. We lay there in comfortable silence until the nurse came in to check my vitals. Once she was gone, he said, “I’m sorry about your dad, Ro.”
“Me, too. Did the police say anything about his belongings? What happened to the store or his house?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I can call Garrett and find out.” He moved to get up.
“Please…wait.” I waited for him to settle back against the pillows. My ribs were throbbing from so much movement, but I didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that you are the most amazing man.” I felt his body stiffen beneath me, and turned my head to see what was wrong. “What?” I asked.
A look of anger flashed across his face. “I’m not letting you go,” he growled.
“I’m not asking you to,” I huffed. “I just wanted you to know that you can change your mind.” Before I could get another word out, his lips were on mine.
He pulled back long enough to ask, “Does this mean you’re coming home with me?”
The moment I answered, “Yes,” his lips were back on mine, and once again I was swept away by all that was Nash.
By the time the nurse came in to kick Nash out of my bed and administer pain meds, I was more than ready for them. I was getting better with each day, but still had a long ways to go. Was Nash really up for the challenge? I guess we would have to wait and see. Before the fuzziness seeped in and I fell asleep for the night, I felt Nash press something into my hand. I knew what it was the second my fingers wrapped around it. My necklace.
“Where did you find it?”
“Garrett found it upstairs in the hallway outside your bedroom door. I had the clasp fixed.” Nash took it from my hand and settled it on my neck where it belonged. He then gave me a soul searing kiss and told me he’d be back in a bit. Once he reached the door, he looked back over his shoulder, and smiled. “By the way, I lied about the symbol. It doesn’t mean friendship. It means forever.” I laughed, and he winked and walked out the door.
* * *
The detectives showed up at ten the next morning as scheduled. I was surprised and slightly disappointed to discover that Garrett wasn’t with them. After making small talk, we picked up where I’d left off from yesterday. I explained how I’d come to find Conor sitting in the living room and how I ran and he eventually overpowered me with the sedative. The detectives asked a million questions about each encounter and I answered them all to the best of my ability. Nash started out sitting next to me on the bed. By the time I’d gotten to the part about arriving at Conor’s place, he was across the room with his hands jammed deep inside his pockets and an extremely sour look on his face. Not once did he lift his gaze from mine. Although he was clearly uncomfortable, he was determined to give his support, even if it was from across the room. In an attempt not to further upset him, I tried to gloss over what Conor had done on that final day, but the detectives kept redirecting me back to that horrible moment. Finally, after shooting Nash an apologetic look, I gave them what they wanted. I wasn’t sure which was worse, living through it the first time or having to retell it in front of Nash the second. Both were equally harrowing. I was relieved when the conversation moved to Conor’s death. The detectives wanted to know if I’d heard anything, such as breaking glass or loud voices. I told them the only thing I’d heard was the ringing of the doorbell, but that they might want to contact his housekeeper, Maria.
Detective Bezos explained what they’d discovered about Conor, but I’d already heard it from Nash the night before. It didn’t surprise me in the least to discover that he had many enemies. It did, however, make me wonder how my father had gotten mixed up with such a horrible man. If only Father had come to me instead of Conor then none of this would have happened.
“What about my father’s things?” I asked.
“Since the investigation is still ongoing, your father’s things from the store are being held as evidence,” Detective Bezos explained. “We’ll be able to release them to you once we’ve determined whether there is anything that points us toward who was responsible for his death.”
“But what about his home?”
Detective Bezos cocked his head in question. “His home?”
“Yes, his home, his belongings. Where are they being stored?”
Both detectives looked uncomfortable, and my heart sank. “I’m sorry, but the bank had no choice but to foreclose on your father’s house. You’ll have to contact them about locating his belongings, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re gone.” I jolted when I felt Nash squeeze my hand. I was surprised to find him standing next to me.
“We’ll contact the bank,” Nash told the detectives. “They probably have his things stored somewhere.” His tone was reassuring, but we both knew the truth. All of my childhood photos, mementos, and memories were most likely gone.
After that there wasn’t much more to say. Nash walked the detectives out while I sat numbly staring out the window. The sound of the door opening caught my attention. I expected it to be Nash, but instead Garrett appeared. He held up a medium sized black duffle bag.
“I…uh, thought you might want these. I wasn’t supposed to take them from the crime scene, so make sure you keep them hidden until you get home.” He lowered it onto my bed and helped me get it unzipped. Sitting on top was a framed picture of me with my parents. My mother had given it to me before she’d passed away. It had been packed with my things that Gavin was supposed to bring to Florida.
My eyes shot to his. “Where’d you get this?” I cried out. Beneath it was my favorite picture of me and Gavin taken at our high school graduation, and beneath that was another framed picture of me and my father, taken on my twelfth birthday. The deeper I dug, the more treasures I uncovered, the harder I cried. I felt as if a part of me I thought I’d lost forever had suddenly been found. I looked from the bag filled with pieces of my life to the man who had somehow found them, and asked, “How?”
“They were at Conor’s house,” he answered.
I ripped my eyes away from the photos long enough to ask, “What do you mean they were at his house?”
“What’s going on?” Nash asked. He was standing in the doorway with a look of concern on his face.
“As we discussed, I brought Rowan some of her things from Conor’s house,” Garrett pointedly told Nash.
“Shit, I’d completely forgotten about that,” Nash hissed. None of this was making any sense.
“Someone please tell me what is going on,” I demanded, and both sets of eyes snapped to me.
“You know more than I do, so I’ll let you explain,” Nash told Garrett. With a nod of his head, Garrett told me what they’d discovered at Conor’s home in Pennsylvania. All this time I’d been running from him, and he’d been busy playing house with my belongings…Belongings which he’d stolen from my best friend after murdering him. In the midst of discovering how my stalker had been hoarding relics from my past, Dr. Wheatley came in and announced that I was officially ready to be discharged from the hospital.
From that moment forward, the day became a whirlwind of activity. While I filled out my discharge papers, Nash said goodbye to Garrett. Once Nash was finished packing my things, it was my turn to say goodbye.
“I suck at goodbyes,” I whispered into Garrett’s ear as he carefully hugged me.
“You are going to be just fine,” he told me.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“Nash saved you, sweetheart. I just did the heavy lifting.” He squeezed my arms, gave me a peck on the cheek, and was gone.
“Thank God we made it in time!” Mallory cried out. “I told you we needed to hurry.” She scolded the group of misfits that followed in after her, and I had to laugh.
Evan stepped up and hugged me first. “Glad you’re on the mend. I’ll see you next month, okay?”
“See you next month,” I told him.
Grant was next. “You take care of Nash. He’s crazy about you,” he whispered in my ear.
“I will as long as you promise to take care of Mallory.”
“Always,” he replied with a wink.
Chaz stepped up after Grant. Instead of hugging me, however, he awkwardly clasped my uninjured hand in his. “Glad you’re okay nursey. Nash would have been a total dick-cheese if he’d lost you. Not that he’s not a dick-cheese now, but he would have been even more of one.” I laughed, and his lip twitched with humor.
I squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Chaz,” I quietly replied, and I knew by the look in his eyes that he understood what I meant. He’d intentionally made me laugh when all I’d wanted to do was curl in a ball and cry.
“My pleasure,” he quietly replied, before turning to walk out the door.
“See you in a month!” I called after him, and laughed when he waved his middle finger at me.
Last, but not least, was Mallory.
“I’m so happy you’re okay,” she sniffled.
“Thank you for everything,” I sniffled.
She pulled back, and glared at me. “Let Nash take care of you, because as soon as I get back, I’m going to need you to help me plan this wedding, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Have fun on your trip. Where are you going, by the way?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know and don’t care,” she responded with a smile and a wink. Grant held out his hand and she took it.
“See you in two or three weeks,” he said. The tinkle of Mallory’s laughter trailed behind them as they walked out the door.
After the nurse appeared with instructions for Nash and prescriptions for me, it was finally our turn to leave.
With a sexy grin on his face, Nash pushed a wheelchair into the room. “Shall we go home?” he asked.
My answer was to gingerly plop my ass down in the chair. For better or for worse, my future now resided in Nash Bostwick’s hands.
At the end of the day, I just prayed that we didn’t break each other’s hearts.