Coming for You - Page 12/66

“I’m fine,” I say into his shirt as he holds me close. “Really,” I say, pushing him back. I like Nick. And I think he likes me too, but not the way I like him. The fact that he’s touching me makes me jittery in a way that freaks me out.

“Sasha.” He holds my face in his hands and I have a moment of panic that he will kiss me and then that changes to regret when he doesn’t. “You look good, kid. A lot better than I imagined all these months.”

I duck under his arm and scoot out of his grasp, making him turn. “You look good too. Far too good for a guy who’s been on the run for a year.”

He smirks at me and for a moment I think he’s flirting. But then he pats his front pocket and pulls out a handful of suckers. Those little tiny ones they give away free in the old-lady booths here in the mall.

“You have got to be kidding me. You brought me candy? What am I, six?”

“Look,” he says, fanning them out a little. “They’re all butterscotch. Your favorite.”

Aww. I might melt a little. He knows my favorite flavor. I take them, but he grabs one for himself and then bites off the wrapper and spits it out on the floor.

I just stare at his lips as he puts the sucker in his mouth and starts talking about how he stopped off at a truck stop on his way into town and picked through the canister until he found… oh, fuck. I have no idea what he’s saying. I’m still looking at his mouth.

He’s looking at me expectantly. “What?” I ask.

He pops that sucker out of his mouth and holds it out for me. “Here, I don’t want it.”

“Then why did you take it?” I ask, laughing. I take the sucker, not really sure what I’ll do with it.

And then he leans into my space and slides his hands up into my hair. “I just wanted to lick it before you did.”

A shotgun cocks off to the side of us and we both turn our heads slowly.

“You’re gonna take your hands off my Smurf and back the fuck away.”

Nick laughs but James does not look like he’s joking. In fact, James looks like Tet right now. “Smurf?” Nick laughs again, only louder this time. “First of all, Six, if this Smurf belongs to anyone, it’s me.” He looks over at me. “Right, Sash?”

God, I’m so bad at choosing sides. So I hesitate. But that’s OK, because James steps forward into Nick’s space and looks down at him. James is an inch or so taller, so he can do that. “She’s thirteen years old, Tate. If you touch her a minute before she’s eighteen, I’ll cut your fucking balls off.”

Nick smacks the barrel of the shotgun away and huffs. “Don’t be stupid. She’s a kid.” And then, as if that wasn’t a kill shot through my heart, he says, “Which reminds me, I got a girl you might be interested in.”

I stop listening. I just toss that butterscotch sucker into the trash and walk off. Merc stretches out an arm to clothesline me before I can pass him a few paces down, but I duck. He grabs again and gets a hold of my shirt. “Stay here, Sasha. You’re not allowed to be alone anymore.”

“What girl?” James asks.

Nick looks over at me and winks. I’m not sure what that means but James takes it as a signal that Nick and I are sharing secrets. But before I can deny it, Nick continues talking. “I’d love to tell you about it, but first, where the fuck is my sister?” He looks around, like she’s gonna be here, hiding from him instead of squealing his name at first sight.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen James speechless.

“Where the fuck is my sister?”

“I had to take her back to the yacht.”

Nick doesn’t even have words for that. He’s stunned silent.

“One, man. I fucking…” James searches for words. But how to explain this clusterfuck? “He showed back up, drugged Harper. Gave her way too much…”

We stare at James in silence.

Then Nick attacks. It’s a stupid move because James ducks, grabs his legs, and then body-slams him on the carpet in front of my booth. “Take easy, asshole. She’s fine. I left her with the Admiral while I came looking for you.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nick growls and flips James over. They both spring to their feet and circle each other. “Are you stupid?” he screams at James. “Do you have any idea what you just fucking did?”

No one answers and he doesn’t tell us. He just turns and walks to the back room of my dad’s booth.

Chapter Seven

Sasha

Merc’s cabin has a strange bookshelf filled with vintage science fiction, hippy acid-tripping pop culture from the Seventies, and American classics. I have a sudden regret for leaving my Little House book back at the mall. It’s a childish book. One more suited for ten-year-olds instead of me. But it has an innocence and simplicity about it that my life could use a little more of.

I pick a sci-fi novel off the shelf as a new song comes on my earbuds. Merc’s idea. To shelter me from the manly conversation going on across the room. I take a quick glance over my shoulder and catch Nick in mid-swing. His fist crashes against Tet’s jaw and then the whole thing starts all over again.

He’s not taking this well. That’s what Merc said when he gave me the iPod and earbuds. Better stay out of it, kid. And then he walked off.

Nick not taking this well is the understatement of the year. The fights have been numerous and loud. Short, but what they lack in length, they make up for in intensity. We still don’t know why Nick is so pissed. At least, I never heard that explanation since we got here to this cabin just outside of town. Maybe Nick told Merc when they drove together? I rode with James and James didn’t say shit on that drive.