I played the prick and decided to take advantage of the situation.
“Hey!” I said in my warmest, most delighted voice, and leaned in to plant a kiss on my visitor’s cheek as I moved to unlock my door. “I’ll see you later,” I tossed over my shoulder to Willow, resisting the temptation to catch her reflection in the hallway mirror next to my door. “Come inside, sweetness…” I trailed off, and ushered the woman inside, not looking back, too much of a coward to watch the look of hurt on Willow’s face.
Eleven
Nash
“I’ve seen you do some shitty things before, but I gotta say, that was the shittiest.”
Natalie followed me around the living room, her voice lifting as I discarded my keys and wallet on the coffee table. “Ah, Sis, it was perfect timing. It’s better if she thinks I’m taken.”
“Damn, Nash, is this you pulling that ‘I’m too busy and important’ nonsense? Because if it is I gotta say, little brother, that it’s played out as hell. You aren’t the G that you think you are.”
“Nat—”
“I came here to see you because you’ve ignored my phone calls and texts for weeks, and here I find you blowing off some pretty young thing that is clearly into you.” I tried to play off the quick jerk of my gaze at my sister, trying to divert that stupid hopeful look I knew was in my eyes, knowing I looked a little too encouraged, a lot too pathetic. “Oh… so I’m right? You want her to be into you?”
I slumped in my recliner, leaning back with my hands covering my face. Natalie sat next to me on the sofa armrest, waiting. I hated when she did that, like she was so damn convinced I’d unload all my issues on her and wait for her to fix my problem. I didn’t feel like hearing her nag at me, I’d had enough of that for one night from Roan. Instead, I shot for deflection.
“What’s this ‘little brother’ mess? Little brother, my ass.”
“I came out first.”
“Yeah a whole four minutes before me. That doesn’t count.”
Natalie shook her head, ignoring my assertion to glare at me like I’d earned it. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”
“You’re not here just for me. I know that.”
I never won when we stared each other down, but I tried hard just then, matching my twin glare for glare until she rolled her eyes. “I have a new designer to check out.”
“Uh huh…”
“But I wanted to check up on you, too.” She smacked my arm when I shook my head. “Stop changing the subject. You gonna tell me what’s going on with that girl?”
“No.” She should have known better. Things hadn’t changed that much since I last saw her. My twin had been gearing up for a new gig on a sitcom for a major network, doing the set design. By the labels she wore and the jewelry she sported, I got the feeling things were going pretty good. “New purse?” I said, nodding to the Prada bag on her arm.
She smacked me in the arm again, lowering herself onto the sofa when I laughed at her. “Tell me.”
And so, I did. Everything. About Willow and my aura, even about Harmony and the offer she made to me, about the dreams that felt so real, I unloaded everything to my sister just like I’d always done; we’d shared the worst of our drama and not once had we looked down on each other. Wonder Twins and all; that wasn’t just some DC fantasy. Nat was my down-for-whatever sister. My drama was hers and right then all of mine was tied up in Willow.
“First of all, the Harmony chick? No, little brother. She’s got an agenda. Steer clear.” I rolled my eyes at my twin and she shot me the bird. “Secondly, the aura girl? You like her.” I shook my head and Nat laughed, reminding me of Roan’s smug ass. “It’s true. You’re very into her.”
“Whatever,” I said, slipping into the hall to grab a pillow and blanket as my sister sat on the coffee table. “I got no time for anyone.” Wasn’t about to tell my sister that I’d checked my phone when I spotted both text messages Harmony had sent me. Damn sure wouldn’t admit to myself that both had me grinning like an idiot. I stripped off my shirt and flopped onto the sofa, watching Nat as she looked me over. “What?”
“We can table this for tomorrow, but for now, I gotta tell you something.”
She had that worried, shifty eye thing happening, something that always told me that bad news was coming. Nat had gotten the same look on her face when she told me our father had contacted her when he got out of prison, and when she had gotten pregnant and didn’t plan on keeping the baby. Bad news always followed that look.
“Damn, Nat… what the hell is it?”
She adjusted on the table, tapping her index fingers together, a nervous annoying habit she had. “Hear me out, okay?”
I sat up, pulling my feet on the floor while I held the pillow over my lap. “Are you pregnant again?”
“What? Oh God, Nash, really?” She flipped the bird at me scowling a little. “Your nephew is the only one I’m gonna have, ever. You know this, and he’s happy with his parents in New Orleans, okay? Give me a little credit for learning from past behavior.”
“All right, my bad.” I tossed the pillow to my side and waited. When she only looked at me, I folded my arms, clearing my throat. “Just come out and—”
“I’ve been spending time with… Dad. For about a year now.”
Something loosened in my chest; it felt hot and bitter, stung as I took in a long breath. Natalie watched me close, eyes cautious, concerned. She had spoken to the man responsible for our mother’s death. The asshole who took everything away from us.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
We sat there for a few seconds watching, waiting as the threat of an argument moved around us like a fog, choking every good thought, every emotion that would make me admit how much I’d missed her. This was a game-changer, something I couldn’t easily stomach.
“Before you start getting all worked up and yell at me, I’ll tell you he was in treatment on the inside. He’s been sober thirteen years, Nash, and he got his GED while he was locked up and is working on his Bachelor’s at a community college out in San Francisco.”
Nat stopped tapping her fingers and had instead taken up a little bounce with her knee, moving without knowing she was doing it, nervously watching me as I let her words sink in.
Finally, when she stopped moving her knee, I sat back, hand on the back of my head because it felt like the only thing that would ground me to the earth. “And?” I spit out.
“And what?” I tilted my head, glaring at my sister until she stood, slipping off her shoes and moving them next to her purse at the bar. “You gonna give him shit for trying to better himself or me shit for wanting to have a relationship?”
“Hell yes.”
“My God, Nash, he was sick. Addiction is an illness like cancer or diabetes.”
“Except, when you get cancer, it’s only your life that’s in danger.”
“Nash—”
“He killed her, Nat.”