“Look, I’m sorry to be such a pain in the ass,” I tell her truthfully. “Will you grab my things and come pick me up so I can go with you? You know you’ll have more fun if I’m there with you.”
“Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I pack your bag,” she says with another heavy sigh.
“Thank you,” I say in relief. “See you then.”
“She coming?” Malcolm asks as soon as I go over and hand his phone back to him.
“Yeah, she is.”
“Good, I guess. Leave your bike here, and I’ll have someone give me a ride over later so I can stash it at my place.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I guess you should call Lucy on her cell if you hear anything the next few days.”
“I will.”
“How often do the two of you talk?” I ask, only a smidge jealous since I know Malcolm is a hundred percent loyal to Naomi.
“As much as we need to,” he answers with a smirk. “Call me if your plans change this weekend and you decide not to head to Charleston.”
“The wedding’s in Charleston. Why would our plans change?”
“Just in case,” he mutters, shrugging his shoulders.
Chapter Sixteen
Lucy
* * *
Pack me a bag. Come pick me up. Take me to the wedding.
Nash better be glad I have a serious soft spot for him. If I had any sense, I would have hightailed it out of here without a second thought and hoped to never speak to him again. But what if this weekend is the last time I’ll get to see him for possibly years?
No matter what he’s done, I trust Jetta when she said Nash had a good reason for doing what he did. Hopefully, he’ll even open up and tell me about it since we’ll be spending the next three and a half days together. I’m just not sure if taking him to the wedding is the best idea.
The more I think about it as I pack him a bag with several jeans and tees, some boardshorts and boxer briefs, along with the one pair of dark slacks and white button up in his closet, the more I’m certain that I should talk him into heading someplace else for the weekend.
That’s why, as soon as he sits down in the passenger side of my Prius with a forced smile on his face, not giving away any sort of visible signs that he’s up shit creek without a paddle, I tell him so. “What if we just ditch the wedding and go to Myrtle Beach or something?”
His smile falls, and he removes his sunglasses to look me in the eye.
“There’s a beach right there,” he says, pointing to the ocean. “Why would I want to drive down to another one for the weekend? You’ve got the wedding…”
“I’m not sure if we should go. In fact, I think we would both be better off just blowing it off.”
“No way!” he exclaims. “You can’t blow this off. If you don’t show up, he’ll think you aren’t over him, right? Isn’t that what you said the other day?”
“Yes, but…”
“But nothing! Suck it up and drive so you can face these fuckers and prove you’re better off and they can kiss your ass,” Nash says as he slides his sunglasses back on his face and stares straight ahead, waiting.
“Nash…there’s something I really need to tell you,” I start.
“Fine, tell me as you drive us to Charleston.”
“You don’t want to go to this wedding. Trust me, Nash.”
“Oh, we’re going to this wedding, and I’m your date. If you want, I will spend the entire fucking weekend with my tongue shoved down your throat. Bet your ex will be jealous as shit. He’ll regret the day he hurt you.”
Oh wow. This, his sex appeal, is exactly why I seem to be able to push aside the fact that Nash is a suspect in multiple murders and agree to go on a road trip with him. I’m so weak for him, it’s pathetic. I want everything he said – a weekend with his tongue down my throat even if he doesn’t ever want more with me. I’m afraid Nash’s hourglass of freedom is running out of sand, and I’m dreading the day very soon when that happens.
“So, I guess we’re going to the wedding,” I say.
“Damn right we are.”
“If we get there and you change your mind, we can leave,” I promise him.
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Nash says confidently.
If I had to bet, he’ll be backing out of that promise before the end of the night.
Nash
* * *
The closer we get to Charleston, the more nervous Lucy acts. The usually talkative woman barely says a word and won’t even look at me. I know she’s driving and shit, but she seems…off.
Unfortunately, the silence in the car is the last thing I need, giving me more time in my fucked-up head. I’m worried about what happens next week, if I’ll be wearing handcuffs for the rest of my life and all of that, but I’m also worried that, by skipping town, somehow I could drag Lucy into my mess. My face could be plastered all over the news soon enough and everyone will know, even her…
“We’re here,” Lucy says as if I hadn’t noticed she had stopped the car in front of the resort. When she doesn’t move, not even taking her hands off the steering wheel, I ask, “Do you want me to stay here while you go check us in?”
“Yeah,” she answers with a nod.
“You don’t mind me crashing in your room, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Everything okay?” I ask in concern since she still looks like a deer in headlights.
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re sort of freaking me out, Lucy,” I admit to her.
“Sorry,” she says. “Just having second thoughts. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to keep driving?”
“No. You were determined to do this and show them you’ve moved on, remember?”
“Right. Yeah. Okay,” she agrees. Finally, she lets go of the steering wheel and reaches into the backseat for her purse. “I’ll go check us in, and you stay here.”
“Sounds good,” I reply since that’s exactly what I just said.
My plan was to wait in the car for her; but after twenty minutes, I need to stretch my legs. So, I decide to get out and go inside to see what’s taking so long.
As soon as I walk through the automatic glass doors, I spot Lucy talking to a group of people. Based on her stiff posture, I begin to realize that the chubby-looking man in front of her must be her ex. What a loser. She can do so much better than him. I’m so locked in on the guy who hurt her as I approach the group and slip my arm around Lucy’s shoulder to help her loosen up that I don’t even notice the other three women until one of them says my name in a freakishly familiar way.
“Nash?”
I finally take my eyes off the pudgy bastard sizing me up to seek out who the hell recognizes me. There are two older women with blondish-white hair who must be sisters based on their similar size and facial characteristics. Then, there’s the woman beside fatso who is clearly very pregnant. I assume she’s the bride and Lucy’s cousin. Finally, I glance up at her face, and it feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut.