Nash (44 page)

a once-over in the mirror. I looked like hell. My eyes were watery and rimmed in red, my skin looked gray,

and there was a hickey the size of Rhode Island on the side of my neck—Mom was going to love that. Just

like she was going to fall all over herself about the current state of my hair. It was normally thick and dark,

but I had shaved the sides and dyed the front a nice, bright purple, so now it stuck up straight like a

Weedwacker had been used to cut it. Both my folks already had an issue with the scrolling ink that wound

around both my arms and up the side of my neck, so the hair was just going to be icing on the cake. Since

there was nothing I could do to fix the current shit show looking back at me in the mirror I prowled out of

the bathroom and unceremoniously grabbed the girl by the elbow and towed her to the front door. I needed

to remember to go home with them instead of letting them come home with me; it was so much easier that

way.

“Look, I have somewhere I have to be, and I don’t particularly love that I have to go, but you freaking

out and making a scene is not going to do anything other than piss me off. I hope you had a good time last

night and you can leave your number, but we both know the chances of me calling you are slim to none. If

you don’t want to be treated like crap, maybe you should stop going home with drunken dudes you don’t

know. Trust me, we’re really after only one thing and the next morning all we really want is for you to go

quietly away. I have a headache and I feel like I’m going to hurl, plus I have to spend the next hour in a car

with someone who will be silently loathing me and joyously plotting my death, so really, can we just save

the histrionics and get a move on it?”

By now I had maneuvered Lucy to the entryway of the building, and I saw my blond tormentor in the

BMW idling in the spot next to my truck. She was impatient and would take off if I wasted any more time. I

gave Lucy a half grin and shrugged a shoulder—after all it wasn’t her fault I was an asshole, and even I

knew she deserved better than such a callous brush-off.

“Look, don’t feel bad. I can be a charming bastard when I put my mind to it. You are far from the first

and won’t be the last to see this little show. I’m glad your tat turned out badass, and I’d prefer you

remember me for that rather than last night.”

I jogged down the front steps without looking back and yanked open the door to the fancy black BMW.

I hated this car and hated that it suited the driver as well as it did.
Classy
,
sleek,
and
expensive
were

definitely words that could be used to describe my traveling companion. As we pulled out of the parking

lot, Lucy yelled at me and flipped me off. My driver rolled her eyes and muttered, “Classy” under her

breath. She was used to the little scenes chicks liked to throw when I bailed on them the morning after. I

even had to replace her windshield once when one of them had chucked a rock at me and missed while I

was walking away.

I adjusted the seat to accommodate my long legs and settled in to rest my head against the window. It

was always a long and achingly silent drive. Sometimes, like today, I was grateful for it; other times it grated

on my very last nerve. We had been a fixture in each other’s lives since middle school, and she knew every

strength and fault I had. My parents loved her like their own daughter and made no bones about the fact

that they more often than not preferred her company over mine. One would think with all the history, both

good and bad, between us, that we could make simple small talk for a few hours without it being difficult.

“You’re going to get all that junk that’s in your hair all over my window.” Her voice—all cigarettes and

whiskey—didn’t match the rest of her, which was all champagne and silk. I had always liked her voice;

when we got along I could listen to her talk for hours.

“I’ll get it detailed.”

She snorted. I closed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. I was all set for a silent ride, but

apparently she had things to say today, because as soon as she pulled the car onto the highway she turned

the radio down and said my name. “Rule.”

I turned my head slightly to the side and cracked open an eye. “Shaw.” Her name was just as fancy as

the rest of her. She was pale, had snowy white-blond hair, and big green eyes that looked like Granny

Smith apples. She was tiny, an easy foot shorter than my own six three, but had curves that went on for

days. She was the kind of girl that guys looked at, because they just couldn’t help themselves, but as soon

as she turned those frosty green eyes in their direction they knew they wouldn’t stand a chance. She exuded

unattainability the way some other girls oozed “come and get me.”

She blew out a breath and I watched a strand of hair twirl around her forehead. She looked at me out of

the corner of her eye and I stiffened when I saw how tight her hands were on the steering wheel.

“What is it, Shaw?”

She bit her bottom lip, a sure sign she was nervous. “I don’t suppose you answered any of your mom’s

calls this week?”

I wasn’t exactly tight with my folks. In fact, our relationship hovered somewhere around the mutually

tolerable area, which is why my mom sent Shaw to drag me home each weekend. We were both from a

small town called Brookside, in an affluent part of Colorado. I’d moved to Denver as soon as I had my

diploma in hand, and Shaw had moved there a few years later. She was a few years younger than me, and

she had wanted nothing more than to get into the University of Denver. Not only did the girl look like a

fairy-tale princess, but she was also on track to be a freaking doctor. My mom knew there was no way I

would make the two-hour drive there and back to see them on the weekends, but if Shaw came to get me, I

would have to go, not only because I would feel guilty that she’d taken time out of her busy schedule, but

also because she paid for the gas, waited for me to stumble out of bed, and dragged my sorry ass home

every single Sunday and not once in going on two years had she complained about it.

“No, I was busy all week.” I
was
busy, but I also just didn’t like talking to my mom, so I had ignored

her all three times she had called me this week.

Shaw sighed and her hands twisted even tighter on the steering wheel. “She was calling to tell you that

Rome got hurt and the army is sending him home for six weeks of R and R. Your dad went down to the

base in the Springs yesterday to pick him up.”

I bolted up in the seat so fast that I smacked my head on the roof of the car. I swore and rubbed the

spot, which made my head throb even more. “What? What do you mean he got hurt?” Rome was my older

brother. He had three years on me and had been overseas for a good portion of the last six. We were still

tight and, even though he didn’t like all the distance I’d put between me and my parents over the years, I

was sure that if he was injured I would have heard it from him.

“I’m not sure. Margot said something happened to the convoy he was in when they were out on patrol.

He was in a pretty bad accident I guess. She said his arm was broken and he had a few cracked ribs. She

was pretty upset so I had a hard time understanding her when she called.”

“Rome would have called me.”

“Rome was doped up and spent the last two days being debriefed. He asked your mom to call because

you Archer boys are nothing if not persistent. Margot told him that you wouldn’t answer, but he told her to

keep trying.”

My brother was hurt and was home, but I hadn’t known about it. I closed my eyes again and let my

head drop back against the headrest. “Well, hell, that’s good news I guess. Are you going to go by and see

your mom?” I asked her. I didn’t have to look at her to know that she had stiffened even more. I could

practically feel the tension rolling off her in icy waves.

“No.” She didn’t say more and I didn’t expect her to. The Archers may not be the closest, warmest

bunch, but we didn’t have anything on the Landons. Shaw’s family crapped gold and breathed money. They

also cheated and lied, had been divorced and remarried. From what I had seen over the years, they had little

need or interest in their biological daughter, who, it seemed, was conceived in order to get a tax deduction

rather than time spent in a bedroom. I knew Shaw loved my house and loved my parents, because it was

the only semblance of normalcy she had ever experienced. I didn’t begrudge her that; in fact I appreciated

that she took most of the heat off me. If Shaw was doing well in school, dating an affluent undergrad,

living the life my parents had always wanted for their sons but had been denied, they stayed off my case.

Since Rome was usually a continent away, I was the only one they could get to so I took no shame in using

Shaw as a buffer.

“Man, I haven’t talked to Rome in three months. It’ll be awesome to see him. I wonder if I can convince

him to come spend some time in D-town with me and Nash. He’s probably more than ready for a little bit of

fun.”

She sighed again and moved to turn the radio back up a little bit. “You’re twenty-two, Rule. When are

you going to stop acting like an indulgent teenager? Did you even ask this one her name? In case you were

wondering, you smell like a mix between a distillery and a strip club.”

I snorted and let my eyes drift back shut. “You’re nineteen, Shaw. When are you going to stop living

your life by everyone else’s standards? My eighty-two-year-old grandma has more of a social calendar than

you, and I think she’s less uptight.” I wasn’t going to tell her what she smelled like because it was sweet and

lovely and I had no desire to be nice at the moment.

I could feel her glaring at me and I hid a grin. “I like Ethel.” Her tone was surly.

“Everybody likes Ethel. She’s feisty and won’t take crap from anyone. You could learn a thing or two

from her.”

“Oh, maybe I should just dye my hair pink, tattoo every visible surface of my body, shove a bunch of

metal in my face, and sleep with everything that moves. Isn’t that your philosophy on how to live a rich and

fulfilling life?”

That made me crank my eyes back open and the marching band in my head decide to go for round two.

“At least I’m doing what I want. I know who and what I am, Shaw, and I don’t make any apologies for

it. I hear plenty of Margot Archer coming out of your pretty mouth right now.”

Her mouth twisted down into a frown. “Whatever. Let’s just go back to ignoring each other, okay? I just

thought you should know about Rome. The Archer boys have never been big on surprises.”

She was right. In my experience surprises were never a good thing. They usually resulted in someone

getting pissed and me ending up in some kind of fight. I loved my brother, but I had to admit I was kind of

irritated he hadn’t, one, bothered to let me know he was hurt, and, two, was still trying to force me to play

nice with my folks. I figured Shaw’s plan for us to ignore each other the rest of the way was a winner, so I

slumped down as far as the sporty little car would allow and started to doze off. I was only out for twenty

minutes or so when her Civil Wars ringtone jarred me awake. I blinked my gritty eyes and rubbed a hand

over the scruff on my face. If the hair and the hickey didn’t piss Mom off, the fact I was too busy to shave

for her precious brunch might just send her into hysterics.

“No, I told you I was going to Brookside and won’t be back until late.” When I looked across the car at

her she must have felt my gaze because she looked at me quickly and I saw a little bit of pink work its way

onto her high cheekbones. “No, Gabe, I told you I won’t have time and that I have a lab due.” I couldn’t

make out the words on the other end but the person sounded angry at her brush-off, and I saw her fingers

tighten on the phone. “It’s none of your business. I have to go now, so I’ll talk to you later.” She swiped a

finger across the screen and tossed the fancy device into the cup holder by my knee.

“Trouble in paradise?” I didn’t really care about Shaw and her richer-than-God, future-ruler-of-the-

known-universe boyfriend, but it was polite to ask when she was obviously upset. I hadn’t ever met Gabe,

but what I’d heard from Mom when I bothered to listen was that he was custom-made for Shaw’s future

doctor persona. His family was as loaded as hers; his dad was a judge, or lawyer, or some other political

nonsense I had no use for. I was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the dude wore pleated slacks and

pink polo shirts with white loafers. For a long moment I didn’t think she was going to respond, but then

she cleared her throat and started tapping out a beat on the steering wheel with her manicured fingers.

“Not really, we broke up but I don’t think Gabe really gets it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, a couple weeks ago, actually. I had been thinking about doing it for a while. I’m just too busy