Home > Nash (Marked Men #4)(72)

Nash (Marked Men #4)(72)
Author: Jay Crownover

I scooped her up in a rib-crushing hug that made her squeak. I kissed her so hard that I’m surprised it didn’t hurt one of us. When I put her down I dragged her inside the house and shut the door.

“What are you doing here, though?” I didn’t know why she was at my dad’s so late. Not that I wasn’t relieved to see her. Just by being her, she made some of the stuff I was drowning in feel less oppressive.

“I went to Phoenix to see my mom. I was hurt and acting like a panicked schoolgirl. I wasn’t thinking, wasn’t listening, and I thought the space would help. We had a heart-to-heart, Mom and me, and I realized that I can’t keep looking at myself through any eyes but my own. We all make mistakes, say hurtful things off the cuff, but that doesn’t define who we are. I was coming home when Royal called me. She ran into Cora and heard Phil wasn’t doing very well. I broke every speed limit that exists between New Mexico and here. I would never have forgiven myself if you had to do this alone.”

God, I just loved her.

“I need you.” My voice cracked when I said it, and the feelings I was treading through just to keep my head above them started to rise up again.

“I know you do, and I need to be here for you. That’s how love works.” She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “How is he?”

I shook my head and let it fall forward. She curled a hand around the back of my neck and brushed a kiss across the stubbly ridge of my cheek.

“Getting worse by the day. I haven’t left his side very much. He drifts in and out, forgets where he is, what time in his life it is. The nurses seem to think it’s only a matter of days, if not hours.”

She pulled me closer and I let myself sort of fold into her embrace. Her hair was so soft and she smelled like spring and sunshine even though it was the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry. This has to be awful. Can I do anything for you?”

I kissed her behind the ear and felt her shiver against me. “This is it. Unless you want to relent and go get me a pack of smokes and some booze.”

She pulled back and gave me a scowl. I grinned at her.

“I’m just kidding. Just having you here makes it suck less. I’m so glad you can finally see how wonderful you are.”

“Well, I might have moments here or there still, so be patient with me, but I realize that if someone as great, as talented, as caring as you can be in love with me, then I must be pretty special.”

The only answer I had to that was to kiss her again. At another time, in any other place, I would have found the nearest place I could just lose myself inside her, but as happy as I was that she was here, that she was officially mine, I still had other pressing matters on hand. I sighed against her lips and closed my eyes.

“I have to stay with Phil. I can’t be somewhere else if he goes.”

She sighed back and we were just breathing each other in and out.

“I’m not going anywhere, Nash. If you’re here, then so am I.”

I wanted to argue with her. I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of her seeing me such a mess and so vulnerable, but I had to admit having her around to lean on sounded nice. I gulped and led her back to the room Phil was in. She put a hand to her mouth and I saw her fingers shake. A glossy coating of fresh tears sprang into those heartbreaking eyes, but she shook it off and broke away from me to walk over to the bedside. Her eyes were everywhere and she touched his wrist with delicate fingers. I realized belatedly as I slumped into the recliner that she was doing her nurse thing. She stood there for a long minute and then turned back to me with a devastated expression. I went to get up so I could get another chair, but she put herself firmly in my lap and curled up so that she was cradled against my chest.

“His pulse is really weak, thready; respiration’s shallow and labored.”

“Yeah.”

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

I snorted a little and kissed her on the crown of her head. “You keep saying that.”

“Because I really, really am.”

I pulled her as close to me as I could and watched my dad with a hollow feeling in my gut.

“I know you are. He told me not to live a life of regret tonight. He also told me to love you so hard there would be no getting away from it, and then he asked me to call him Dad.”

My voice broke, and for the first time since this all started, everything I was feeling started to leak out. Luckily it was dark and the only one who could tell was Saint. Moisture forced its way out of one eye and got lost in her bright hair.

She put her palm on my heart and tapped her fingers in time with the hasty beat.

“You can do all those things for him.” Her voice was soft and gentle like she was scared she might spook me.

“Now that you’re here, I can.”

We stayed silent after that, just held each other in the dark and waited to see what the next day would hold. I knew that whatever it was, we would face it together and that made facing the inevitable slightly more bearable.

Phil was in and out the next day. Sometimes he knew exactly who I was and he kept grinning at me and looking at Saint. I urged her to go home, told her she didn’t have to stay since she had already missed work, but she wasn’t budging. She fluttered around, doing her nursing thing, doing her girlfriend thing, and I was grateful for it all. Phil made her laugh when he was awake and lucid. He told her broken tales of my misspent youth with Jet and the Archer twins, which led to a show-and-tell of all my awful tattoos that I had since covered with other things. He didn’t last long, and she was amazing with him even when I felt useless and at a loss.

I had a really hard time when he drifted off, when he thought he was somewhere else in a different time. I wanted to hurt things when he mumbled things about my mom and that disastrous relationship. It made all the disdain I had for her bubble to the surface and all that old hurt and those feelings of inferiority percolate and stew. Saint did a good job of reminding me that my mother’s opinion held no weight for me anymore, and that the people that mattered in my life adored who I was and they wouldn’t change a thing about me. That she wouldn’t change a single thing about me.

It was early the following morning, really early, the sun wasn’t even up yet, when something changed. I was napping on and off in the recliner, Saint was asleep on the couch in the other room, but something in the air shifted and my eyes popped open. I got up and walked to the side of my dad’s bed and looked down at him. His eyes were at half-mast and I could see, literally see, that he was fighting, struggling to inhale each breath he was taking. My heart slipped out of rhythm and I knew, just had a gut sense, that this was it. That last grain of sand in the hourglass was falling down.

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