CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Reagan
“Oh, God!” I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of Bocca. He shuffled into the bar looking rough. “What the hell happened to you?”
He was limping and his face grimaced with every step. His arm was in a sling and it looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to the side of his face and arm. I ran around the bar and hesitated in front of him. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him tight, but I didn’t want to hurt him worse than he already was. He threw his good arm around my shoulders and gave me a cocky grin.
“Had an oopsie. I look cool, right?” He winked at me and I shook my head at him.
“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” I patted his stomach. I wondered if this was part of what had been eating at Nate the night I found him sitting on his front porch stairs. I had an idea that something happened on that night. And I had a feeling Bocca being shot was part of what was worrying Nate. It had to be the reason why everyone seemed to be in a down mood the past week. I sighed internally, wishing I could make it better for all of them. I ran my fingers lightly over the rough skin along his jawline. To his credit, he didn’t even wince. That shit looked gross.
“Tell me the truth, Reagan. Did I mess up my handsome face?” He carefully situated himself on the barstool, half of his ass hanging off the side. I eyed him suspiciously.
“Nah,” I said shrugging. “You weren’t that handsome to begin with.” I went back around the bar and handed him a bottle.
“Ouch! Damn brother, looks like you lost your touch,” Crow said standing beside him, laughing at my jab. I handed Crow a new beer and shot him a wink before he walked away.
“You hurt my heart, doll face.” Bocca feigned sadness. I laughed and swatted at the air in front of him.
“You don’t fool me. And besides, you know the ladies all love an injured man. I’m sure you have more than one playing nurse to you.” I rolled my eyes as he a wide smile stretched across his face like I had hit the nail right on the head.
“You want me to add you to that list? I can always use another set of hands for my sponge bath.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Not in this lifetime.” Nate’s voice was deep behind me, making me jump a little. I knew Bocca was only messing around. But apparently, Nate didn’t like it even a little. His hand came to rest at the small of my back and I bit back a smile. “Or the next. Fuck! Just, not ever.” It was hard not to feel giddy over the possessiveness going on right now. It was moments like this that made me wish for more with Nate. However, it never seemed to last long.
“Loud and clear, brother,” Bocca mumbled into his beer.
“So, you gonna tell me what actually happened, or should I continue to let my mind run wild?” I asked trying to ease the weird tension hanging thick in the air. Nate’s hand slipped away from my back, but he lingered there, so close that I could feel the heat coming off of his body. My breath caught in my chest and my heart was racing. This seemed to be the normal reaction from my body whenever he was near. You would think I was used to it, but it felt new every time.
“I got shot. Don’t worry that pretty little head, girl. Nothin’ major,” Bocca replied. He said it with a casual tone and shrug. I wondered if this was his first gunshot wound. “One in the ass. That shit ain’t cool, man.” He downed his beer and I got him another one. I almost want to laugh. The fucker got shot in the ass. If it wasn’t such a serious thing, it would have been funny.
My mind raced with all the reasons to why he would be in a situation where he could be shot. I knew Nate was more than likely there when it happened and it was a cold shock to my system. Nate could have been shot. My body tensed and I knew they both noticed. I was starting to sweat from all the panicking thoughts. I gave some excuse and made my way around the bar to check on the others. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want Nate to say something to try and ease my fear. And I definitely didn’t want him to even know how scared I felt about the thought that he could have gotten hurt.
I tried not to over analyze what had happened with us. He hadn’t exactly been avoiding me, but he wasn’t inserting himself into my life more than normal either. So what was there to think? He thought it was a mistake and didn’t want to admit it to me? Were we just going to go in like nothing happened and never talk about it? The girl in me wanted to know what was going on in his mind and if I meant anything to him. The girl parts of me wanted another go-round or two.
Feeling slightly insecure and wrecked, I decided it was best to just play along with his plan. I didn’t let on that I was a wash of emotions inside. I did my best to shake it off. It happened, it was done, end of story. Right? Yeah, I was a damn mess when it came to Nate and I didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
The rest of the night I tried to keep everything light. I made it my mission to lift the spirits of everyone who was there, most of all Bocca. I made him laugh. Although, I was sure whatever kind of pain medication he was on made me seem funnier than I actually was. Nate and I didn’t say anything else to each other for the rest of the night, but I could feel his eyes on me at all times. The one time I broke down and looked at him, he gave me a tiny half smile. It was almost sweet and made me wonder if he had a soft side he wanted to unleash. The hot and cold of the Nate situation was dizzying.
The next few weeks that followed, I didn’t see much of the guys outside of the bar. And even then, the times they came in turned scarce. There was something going on, but I had no place to ask. So, I kept my mouth shut and did my job. At the end of the night, I went home and let the worst thoughts eat me away. There was too much going on. I still had horrifying nightmares every night. Only now they were a mix of Lance coming after me and whatever darkness surrounded Nate. I just couldn’t seem to turn my mind off. I woke up every time in a shaking sweat. Then I would cry myself to sleep again. The images that played in my head were different but always had the same horrifying outcome. Then they started to morph into one thing.
It was always started off with Lance finding me and it always ended with Nate’s death instead of mine. I tried to keep things wrapped up, tight. I hoped that the problems would go away and wouldn’t spill into the rest of my life and the people around me.
But it seemed that my mind was trying to make me see differently. I couldn’t let myself crack. That was not an option. I still held onto the idea that this was my problem and I had to deal with it. The thing was, I didn’t know how to. I didn’t have the first clue on what to do. Other than running, that was. To keep moving so the bad things couldn’t catch up to me. But I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to move. Something about being in that small town felt safe. It felt like home. For the first time in years, I was surrounded by people who wanted to be around me. People that cared about what I had to say and listened to my stupid stories. People that looked out for me. And I hadn’t realized up until that moment that I craved that in my life. For the first time, I was starting to feel whole and settled.
I decided there was only one thing to do, keep my walls up and hope for the best. Push forward and hit everyday head on. There was no way Lance knew where I was. He didn’t know anything about me. I kept my shit private and the one person who could’ve helped him was dead.