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Charity For Nothing: The Virtues Book III by A.J. Downey (8)

 

Chapter 9

Charity

 

“Okay, spill. What’s Nothing’s deal?” I stood just behind the couch, dripping on the hardwood floor of Cutter’s entryway. Hope leaned her head way back over Cutter’s thigh so she could see me, while Cutter just nonchalantly turned his head my direction. They were cute together, her lying out on the couch, head in his lap, but right now; there was no way I was going to admit it out loud.

“Well, if I had to hazard a guess,” Cutter drawled, “I’d say you struck a nerve in our boy, and given his feelings over his late wife and the like, I don’t imagine he quite knows how to handle that.”

“Charming,” I said, and felt my shoulders drop, “What happened anyways? All anyone will say is that it was some kind of accident.”

“Well that’s just not my place to tell, Darlin’. You’ll have to get that from the horse’s mouth.”

I looked to Hope for help and she snorted, shrugging her shoulders indelicately where she lay across Cutter’s lap, “Don’t look at me, I know as much about it as you do. Some things are just Nothing’s story to tell; it’s how it works with these guys. Can’t say I didn’t warn you about that.”

I looked at the ground and closed my eyes, placing the palm of my hand on the back of my neck and pulling to ease the tension from it.

“I’d like to help him if I can,” I admitted, “There’s something about him.”

“Well, see, that there’s your problem, Darlin’. There ain’t no one that can help Nothing but Nothing. You can’t help someone who isn’t willin’ to help themselves and he just ain’t there yet.”

I nodded, and thought about it, “Right, thanks… I’m going to bed.”

“So early?” Hope asked, searching my face.

“Yeah, I’m beat.”

“Okay, g’night Blossom.”

I went upstairs and changed out of my wet clothes and into dry, pulling down a towel from the top of my closet to dry my hair. It would turn into the soft waves that Faith’s hair held when it dried. I needed to straight iron my hair to keep it flat. I didn’t see a whole lot of keeping it straight if it rained all the time like this. Or with as much swimming as I planned to do when the sun finally came out to play for longer than an hour or two at a time. I plugged my phone in on the bedside table and sighed, picking up the picture frame Nothing had drunkenly fixed with my help.

“I miss you, Mom,” I murmured and kissed my fingertips, placing them over her image behind the glass.

I thought for a long time about Nothing and his odd behavior since I’d rolled into town and came up with zero conclusions, because truthfully? What could I conclude? I was missing pieces of the puzzle and couldn’t yet tell the whole picture from the pieces I had. The only thing I could do was wait for Nothing to hand the missing pieces over.

I blew out an explosive breath and crashed, only when I got up the next morning, instead of sunshine, it was just more of the steady pounding rain with the odd gust of wind. Apparently the storm was moving in for real now.

I got dressed and went downstairs and found Hope in the kitchen looking miserable, waiting for the coffee to brew; I laughed.

“Shut up,” she grumbled at me.

“Where is everyone?”

“Storm’s moving in quicker than anticipated, some of the guys are getting the Reclaimer out of the water and the rest are moving the bikes to a storage place sturdy enough to withstand the beating coming our way.

“Shouldn’t this place be boarded up?” My sister shook her head.

“It has rolling shutters.”

I jumped and let out a yip at the unexpected voice behind me, I turned around to see Faith wide eyed and jumpy just as much as I was at the dining room table. I laughed and she laughed with me, both of us nervous.

“I had no idea you were there,” I said.

“Sorry, we were expected to be seen and not heard, I guess I’m still working on some things.”

I frowned and shook my head, “Don’t be sorry, it’s not like Rome was built in a day.”

Faith smiled and I smiled back, going to my sister and hugging her tight when she got up to meet me. A strong gust of wind startled us and we turned just in time to see the sliding glass doors bow inwards with the force of it, the glass flexing in the frames.

“Holy shit,” I murmured.

“And on that note,” Hope said and went to a closet door at the far end of the dining room. She opened it up to a small electrical closet and turned a key in a panel. A light lit up green and she pressed a button holding it down. Metal storm doors slid down out of rolls that had been disguised by a trick of the architecture. I blinked noticing that the back patio had sandbags piled high at the top steps, even with the waist high rock walls surrounding the stone deck. The table, chairs, and barbecue had all been moved. Stashed away somewhere.

“Wow, this is really serious isn’t it?” I asked. Faith looked solemn… afraid. Hope just shrugged.

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

“How many people are supposed to come here?” I asked as we lost the daylight, the shutters closing everything off.

“Cutter, Marlin, Lightning, Pyro and his girl, Radar and his family typically weather storms here, I don’t know who all else.”

“Trike,” Faith supplied. I nodded, and hoped that Nothing would show; I was hoping to talk to him some more.

“What now?” I asked.

“The shitty part,” Hope said and Faith made a face. I raised my eyebrows and Faith twisted her lips into a look that was classically mom’s ‘I disapprove’ look.

“We wait.”

Lovely.

“They boys are cavemen at heart, Cutter wouldn’t even let me go out with them, not that I really wanted to head out in this.” Hope sighed.

“Fun, anybody got a Monopoly board or something?” I asked. We all exchanged a look and started laughing in the dim kitchen.

“Hit the light would you? I’m gonna die if I don’t get some caffeine,” Hope said.

“They’ll probably be hungry when they get in,” Faith murmured as the harsh overhead light filled the kitchen.

“Probably,” Hope conceded.

“Well alright then, something to do, at last!”

We set about fixing sandwiches and some soup for when the guys got back. I worked on a couple of salads while Faith crafted a platter stacked high with fruit slices. Hope had it easy; the soup was premade in a bag and from the freezer. She made sure sodas were within easy reach and when the front door blew open an hour or two in, it was to the boisterous noise of a bunch of the guys hurrying their way in.

“Go dry off and get in here! Food’s ready!” Hope called.

I went around the corner and stood in the hall, gaze roaming over face after familiar face but missing the face I was looking for. No dark hair, no gray eyes… no Nothing.

“Where’s Nothing?” I asked Lightning quietly.

“Riding it out at his place,” he said and he didn’t look happy about it.

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded and went back to serving some of the guys up as they came down in drier sweats toweling their hair.

“Where’s Cutter?” Hope called.

“Locking down the shutters with Pyro, Radar, and Marlin,” Stoker called. I handed him a plate and he smiled, inclining his head once in thanks.

A little bit later Marlin, followed by Cutter, Pyro, and Radar came through the front door dripping in Gordon’s Fisherman yellow rain slickers and hats.

“Fuck, its bad out there!” Cutter declared, “Radar, go do your thing.”

Radar nodded, “Soon as I dry off I’m on it. Hey Charity, mind fixing me a plate?”

“Sure,” I murmured and went to do just that.

Eventually people were settled around the huge dining table eating, Radar set up at one end on three laptops scrolling and clicking through screens.

“What’s the word?” Cutter asked.

“Not as bad as it’s gonna get, Cap. It’s still early.”

I felt bad for Nothing, weathering the storm all by himself. It wasn’t a time to be alone so I made a decision. I quietly went about packing up some Tupperware and while everyone was gathered around Radar and his laptops looking at what he was pointing out on the three screens, I ghosted upstairs with my haul and brought out one of my extra bags. I packed up dry clothes, a couple of towels and the food and slung it over my shoulder. I tucked my phone into one of the side pockets, made sure my room was neat and presentable and with a nod, took up my keys. My heart fluttered erratically in my chest. It really was bad out there and I didn’t exactly want to drive in it, but I couldn’t fathom Nothing being all alone. It just didn’t sit well with me. It didn’t feel right.

I slipped out the front door in my Keds and shut it firmly behind me. My summer dress was plastered to me in the matter of half a second. Undeterred, I bolted across the driveway and flung open the door of my Jeep, throwing in my bag and diving inside. A gust of wind battered my vehicle, rocking it mercilessly and I gasped. I thought to myself maybe this is a bad idea, even as my hand turned the key and my baby fired up into life.

“Bad idea or not, you’re in it to win it now, Charity.” I told myself. I pressed down on the clutch and shifted it into gear, and with the wipers going full bore, I eased around the circular driveway and hung a right onto the street.

It was a freaking nightmare out here. Wind battered and buffeted my Jeep so hard I thought it would topple over. No one was out here, the streetlights, what few the town had, all seemed to be hanging on by a thread. I squinted through the flying leaves and debris and eased my way through the sheets of rain looking for Everglade to make my turn; crowing in triumph when I spotted it.

I laughed at myself for using my signal. Ft. Royal was a ghost town, there wasn't really a reason to. I inched down Everglade and made the next turn, driving around a fallen palm tree, having to go up onto the sidewalk to make it. This was bad, and I’d like to say that pulling into Nothing’s driveway in front of his closed garage door was enough to ease the knot of anxiety in my chest, but it wasn't. I still had to make it to his front door and hope that he could hear me knocking above the howling and the raging of the growing storm.

I killed the engine and slung my bag over my shoulder, taking a deep breath. Another gust of wind shoved my Jeep from behind and nudged it forward a couple of inches even with the parking brake set. I shuddered and climbed over the center console into the passenger seat which was closer to the house’s front door. I waited for the next crazy gust and when it petered out, leapt out the door and was drenched again before I could slam it shut. I ran, head ducked, for the small front porch and knocked loudly at the front door, huddled in on myself, the thin fabric of my summer dress clinging wetly to my body.

The door opened and Nothing stared down at me, stunned. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me across the threshold before slamming the door shut behind me and latching it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded and I looked up, startled.

“I didn’t think you should be alone…”

The anger in his gray eyes softened marginally before he rallied and it came back full force.

“How did you get here?” he demanded.

“I drove, why?”

He put his hands to his head and gripped his hair like he was ready to tear it out, “Why!? It’s a goddamn fucking hurricane going on out there, Charity! You could have been hurt, or killed! What in the absolute fuck? Don’t you California girls have any fucking sense?”

“I’m sorry,” I hugged myself and shivered, feeling like a child well and truly admonished.

“Where’s your Jeep?”

“In the driveway.”

“Fuck, give me your keys,” he ordered and held out his hand, waving his long fingers towards him twice. I dropped them in his palm. “Come this way,” he ordered and set off past the living room, hanging a left just before his kitchen and opening the first door in the hall on the left. He went down a couple of steps.

“When I say ‘go’ press that button,” he demanded, pointing to the garage door button next to my head. I nodded and tried not to think about him being shirtless now that my butthurt from being yelled at was wearing off.

“Go,” he ordered and I hit the switch. I wondered vaguely what he’d been waiting for, as the door trundled up and the rain and wind swept in. I bit my lower lip as some things blew off a shelf and out the door. I think I heard Nothing curse as he ran out into the storm and got into my Jeep, pulling it into the garage.

“Shut it!” he yelled and I hit the button, the garage door trundling down, settling into place just as the next big gust knocked into it with a shuddering bang. He got out of my Jeep, shirtless, wet, and dripping; bare feet slapping the smooth concrete of the garage floor. He shook some of his midnight dark hair out of his eyes and burned me with a look.

“I can’t fucking believe you, I can’t fucking believe the guys let you leave like that,” he grated.

“Don’t be mad at them, they don’t know I did.”

“You fucking serious!?”

I swallowed hard, “I’m sorry,” I repeated and hated the feeling that came with the apology. I had apparently fucked up big time, but I hadn’t seen the harm, I mean the storm was just getting started, right?

He pushed past me and I closed my eyes, he was really angry, and I guess it was more serious out there than I’d thought. I followed him to the kitchen and stopped, in the middle of his kitchen floor his bike leaned over scattered newspapers. Oil spots dotted the newsprint and the engine was in various stages of pieces under the harsh overhead fluorescent light.

“You work on your motorcycle in your kitchen?” I asked.

“More comfortable than in the garage and it’s not like Corrine is here to bitch at me,” he said irritably, scooping up his phone off the kitchen counter.

“Corrine… is that your late wife?” I asked.

He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder and glared at me. I bit my lips together and hung back in the doorway as he swiped his thumb across the screen in whatever obscure pattern to unlock his phone. I couldn’t see who he was calling, but truthfully, I was distracted by a bead of moisture rolling down his spine.

“Yeah, Cutter. Yeah, I know, she’s here. She fuckin’ drove here, in a hurricane,” he paused, “She’s safe. No, it’s way too bad out there. No, it’s cool man; I got it. Want to talk to her? Doubt it. Yeah. Sure, thing. See you when it’s over.” He hung up and let the phone clatter onto the Formica countertop.

I set down my bag and automatically went to him, hugging him around the waist, resting my head against his back as we both dripped rainwater onto his kitchen floor.

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” I breathed. He put his hand over mine and stood stalk still for a really long time, struggling with some invisible force and I simply stood there, tense. I didn’t want him to be mad at me. I just really didn’t want him to be all alone, either. I think he’d had enough of being alone.

He let out a pent up breath slowly, and as he did, grew less ridged beneath my touch, but only by a little. He turned in the circle of my arms and looked down at me. His hands found my hips and he turned me gently, hauling me up so I sat on the empty counter.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, gray eyes tumultuous.

“I didn’t think, I guess,” I gripped the edge of the counter to either side of my hips and trembled as much from his proximity as from cold. The air conditioning had kicked on and swirled through his kitchen, raising goosebumps on my skin.

He touched the side of my face and I held my breath, please kiss me, my mind plead and I think it may have filled my eyes. He frowned, and the anger and frustration swirled behind his eyes.

“I’ll ask you again, why did you come here?” he demanded and I felt the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding ease out of my shoulders.

“I didn’t think you should be alone anymore, not with this,” I raised a hand and waved ineffectually to take in the howling wind and raging rains pattering against the house. It was that and the electric hum of the house’s AC unit and nothing more that hung between us. I could see the war on his face, feel it in the tightly coiled energy of his body, raised just above his skin. He shifted forward and back on his arms, his hands planted firmly on the counter’s edge.

It was like he needed that final little push, to take that leap of faith, except I didn’t know what to do or say to make him comfortable enough to make it. His indecision rose on the air, making it thick, making it hard to breathe; making me hold so very still, like he was a predator in my midst. I swallowed hard and his eyes snapped to my throat, watching the motion. He closed his eyes and bowed his head and I couldn’t resist. I raised a hand slowly and smoothed back his glossy dark hair. His head snapped up, and there must have been something in my eyes because before I knew it, his mouth was on mine and it was everything I had imagined it would be.

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