Nya

It had been forty minutes since Patrick’s father had left, and I had done my best to stay occupied.

His “visit” had been somewhat unnerving, but not as much as it would have been before. He had been trying to intimidate me, or more likely, send Patrick a message. But I refused to allow him to disrupt my home.

Of course, there was the fact that I was too distraught about the state of things between me and Patrick to care about his father’s antics.

I’d been hurt but mostly calm when Patrick had left, but the more I thought about it, the more this abrupt change worried me.

I’d thought we were getting closer, and while I had insisted on going home before, I hadn’t brought it up for a while. Had gotten used to Patrick, being with him, and had thought he was getting used to me.

Even more, I felt a sinking regret because I realized it was my fault. I’d pried into areas I had no business getting into. No wonder he was pushing me away.

That saddened me more deeply than I could say, but I knew if I had a chance, I could explain it to him, make him understand what I’d intended, how much I cared.

But I probably wouldn’t get the chance.

I knew that, tried to tell myself that if I wasn’t grateful now, I would be soon.

It was clear I had no perspective when it came to Patrick, that I couldn’t be trusted to make what I knew were the best decisions, so maybe he was doing me a favor.

I dismissed the thought almost as immediately as it came.

I didn’t understand Patrick’s world, didn’t know if I was sure about his life, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that I knew him, and I knew that I loved him.

His life wouldn’t change. I’d have to accept that, find a way to live with it. And I would. For Patrick, I would. It might have been naive, but I was certain everything would work itself out.

If only Patrick would give us a chance.

“Nya!”

I heard his voice almost as if I had conjured it, and I quickly went to the door and opened it.

He entered, looking almost crazed, far more so than he had been when we were being chased by armed pursuers.

“Patrick?” I said.

He looked at me, his eyes blazing. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice taking on that fierceness that I recognized but with an even more intense, and almost frantic edge now.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

I’d known word of Aengus’s visit would get back to him, but I hadn’t expected this reaction.

“What did he say to you? Are you sure you’re okay?”

Patrick stared at me and then looked around the living room, his gaze searching, before he looked at me again.

When his eyes met mine, they softened slightly, but I could still see the panic, and the anger burning in them.

“I’m fine. He just…” I said, waving a hand.

I didn’t know how to describe what Aengus had done, and ultimately it didn’t matter. I just needed Patrick to see that.

He looked at me skeptically, his hands holding my arms a little tighter than was comfortable, though I knew it wasn’t intentional.

I reached up, brushed the heel of my hand against his smooth jaw, held his neck, and stared into his eyes. “I’m fine,” I whispered.

He paused, his eyes boring into mine, and in the next instant he was unleashed. He moved forward, pushing me back until I was flush against the door and began to devour my lips.

I kissed him back with everything I had, his frenzied caresses only making me want to calm him that much more.

Without breaking our kiss, he pulled my pants down, opened his. He wasted no time lining our bodies up, and when his cock bumped against my clit, I moaned.

He shifted his hips and nudged my opening, and then, in the next breath, buried himself inside me in one hard thrust. His length and girth made the stretching burn of his entry slightly uncomfortable, but any pain was more than overcome by the pleasure of his body thrusting into mine, the way his strong muscles flexed as he thrust inside me over and over again.

I felt the burning spiral of pleasure, felt him harden inside me, still thrusting wildly with no rhythm or finesse. There was no place for either in this, and I felt Patrick’s emotions, his anger, his relief at seeing me, as if he’d spoken the words.

My climax crashed through me like a lightning strike, and in the next breath, he stilled, emptied his seed inside me.

I held him as best I could as he shuddered in my arms, stayed connected to him until his softening cock slipped out of me.

He loosened his hold and I lowered my legs to the floor, then pulled my pants up, getting a delicious thrill from the feeling of his seed leaking out of me.

Patrick kept his head down as he tucked himself back into his pants, but when he looked up and met my eyes, I could see that he had calmed some.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” I responded with a quick smile.

He didn’t return it. Instead, he stared at me intently. “You really okay?” he said.

“I’m fine.”

He looked around again and again looked at me. “You can’t stay here,” Patrick said, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than me.

“I can go back to your place.”

He shook his head immediately, the stabbing hurt of that small action more intense than I would’ve thought. “No,” he said dismissively.

It was hard to believe that he could be so dismissive after what we had just shared, but he was. I was too stunned with hurt to speak so I looked at him, watched him and waited as he stood thinking, trying my best to ignore the pain of his rejection.

A moment later he looked at me, nodded like he had come to a decision. “Pack a bag. You’re going on a little vacation.”

* * *

Patrick

An hour after I’d arrived at Nya’s house, I walked her to one of my cars and watched as she got in. Once she was settled, I looked at her. She seemed serene, hadn’t put up any fight at all.

I didn’t know what to think about that. She’d suggested going back to my house, but I didn’t want that. I needed her farther away so I could focus, and part of me was afraid that if she went back, I wouldn’t have the power to let her go when the time came.

This was the better play. I kept telling myself that, wondered if I’d ever actually believe it.

“James will drive you and stay with you,” I said, gesturing toward the man who sat behind the wheel.

“Okay,” she said quietly, so not like Nya.

I lingered for a moment, feeling awkward, but then finally closed the door and watched as they drove off.

Once the car was out of sight, I got into my own. I regretted not kissing her good-bye, but knew that I had done the right thing.

My frenzy earlier, my worry, had revealed so much, had shown me that my feelings for Nya were far deeper than I’d known, than I could admit.

Had again reminded me that we could never be together.

No matter what I did, how I tried, my life would encroach. Nya might be able to handle it for a while, but there would come a time when she wouldn’t. Even now, my chest squeezed as I thought of her inevitable loss.

That was why sending her back home before had been smart, why keeping my distance now was the only way. At least I had something else to focus on.

I drove the still-familiar path, one that I’d tried, failed, to forget over the years, felt the burning anger that I’d never even attempted to let go of.

Then remembered Nya’s words.

I wouldn’t let Aengus get to me like this, wouldn’t let him control me. I pushed my anger down, and by the time I reached the house I hated, the one I had survived in not grown up in, I was sufficiently detached.

There had been a time when I wanted to do nothing but burn the place to the ground with him in it, but when I looked at it now, I felt nothing but a vague sadness for the younger version of myself and my brothers who’d had to suffer there. Disgust for the man who still lived there. I’d come to deliver a message and find out what he knew. I didn’t doubt he knew something. He might not have been involved but him showing up at Boiler Room, Nya’s house was his way of telling me so.

I walked up the porch, careful to keep my steps modulated and focused. He was watching, I knew, and I wouldn’t give him even the slightest hint of hesitation, weakness, anger, anything to latch onto.

He opened the door before I reached it, looked at me with piercing eyes lit by the same disgust that I felt.

“What the fuck do you want?” he said, the faux-concerned facade he’d put on at Boiler Room nowhere to be found.

“Is that any way to greet your oldest, Pa?”

He scoffed, disgusted. “What the fuck do you want, boy?”

“Information,” I said.

Though I had sworn to never set foot in that house again, I pushed my way inside.

He seemed to consider whether or not to fight me, but then backed away.

I didn’t look around, didn’t care to, so instead I focused on him, saw the self-satisfied smile that lit his face.

“Heard you’re having trouble. You come to beg for my help?”

I kept my face blank, didn’t move even a millimeter. “No, I came for information. But first, I’m going to deliver a message. You do anything to her, you even look at her, and it’s over for you, Aengus.”

I meant every word of it, my promise to my mother be damned.

Aengus was unimpressed. “So fucking pathetic. Willing to debase yourself for a fucking woman,” he spat.

I didn’t bother to respond. Love, caring, anything other than the acquisition and use of power were foreign to Aengus.

“Whatever you say, Aengus. Just remember that she’s off-limits. Now I want information,” I said.

He scoffed. “What makes you think I know anything? You fucking iced me out, so why would I know anything?”

I had iced him out, and enjoyed it. I’d made it clear that anyone who did business with Aengus would not be welcome to do so with me. Petty, perhaps, but it had given me some measure of happiness to see him cut out of the business that he loved.

Of course, that didn’t mean he still didn’t have contacts. I hated Aengus, but I gave credit where it was due. He cultivated respect and relationships, and people, some out of fear, some out of loyalty, still told him things.

“The information, Aengus,” I said blandly.

“You let my name go to shit, try to pretend you’re a big shot, and now you’re asking for my help?”

“If your name means anything, it’s because I made it so,” I said.

I went quiet quickly, chided myself for having been sucked into his game. I knew how Aengus was, knew that everything he did was for a purpose, in this case to get a reaction out of me, and I had been foolish enough to give it to him. I stayed quiet, tried to breathe past the anger that was quickly rising.

“Oh you think money, cars, houses make a name? Make people respect you? You don’t even know the meaning of the word. I never had as much as you do, was never rich and fancy, but people respected my words, and they’d never move against me.”

It was one of the few times I knew Aengus spoke the truth. How many beatings had my mother endured? My brothers? Me? More than I could count, more than I could remember. And never, not once, had anyone lifted a finger to help us.

No one would risk his wrath.

But I ignored all that, ignored the anger, the old hurt, that buzzed in my brain. “Information, Aengus,” I said as calmly as I could.

“It’s right there but you’re too fucking stupid to see it. You let people walk all over you. You’re weak,” he said, eyes blazing, spittle flying out of his mouth.

I reacted on instinct, in a split second remembering all the times I’d heard those words, my promise to prove they weren’t true. I wrapped my hand around Aengus’s throat and pushed him against the wall so hard his head thumped the drywall.

For a brief second, so brief I almost missed it, there was something like fear in his expression. But it was gone quickly, evaporated almost like it hadn’t been there. But it had.

“Information, Aengus,” I repeated.

“If you were any kind of man, you’d snap my neck right now. But you aren’t, so you won’t. That’s why people walk all over you. Because you got no balls. You do deals with people, let them call you a colleague while they plot behind your back. The worst part is, you’re too stupid to see it.”

I squeezed Aengus’s throat tighter, so tight that he started to gasp. He didn’t break my gaze though, didn’t look away. In fact, I might have seen something like pride in his eyes. I didn’t think about that, didn’t consider how fucked up this entire situation was. Instead, my mind latched onto something in his words.

Colleague.

It was a strange word choice, one that Aengus would never use, a concept I doubted he even understood.

I dropped my hand, listened to Aengus cough, though I barely paid any attention.

Colleague.

I looked at Aengus, and in the next breath was headed toward the door.

How could I have been so blind? So foolish?

I wasn’t sure, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I didn’t know how Aengus knew, but he did.

As I sped off, I realized this was one of the only times I’d ever been glad to have talked to Aengus. I couldn’t think about that though and instead replayed our conversation, hoping that I was wrong, knowing I wasn’t.

I knew better than to take people at their word, and certainly not at face value, but I’d done it. I’d also underestimated my competition.

And because of my stupidity, I’d delivered Nya into the hands of my enemy.