Chapter 44

Shit. Closing his eyes, Nate skimmed his hand over his clenched gut.

"And I also know Olivia better than anyone." Nakos's determined gaze nailed Nate to the couch when he refocused on the foreman. "She's a pain in the ass, stubborn as hell, and has a heart bigger than a church full of saints, but she's not stupid. If the goal is to not hurt her, you're going about it back-asswards. You told her the truth. All your secrets are out. And what was the first thing she did?" He tipped his bottle at Nate. "She went after you."

Well, Nate had wanted the foreman's insight. He'd gotten it. Hell, he didn't have a clue what he'd been expecting to hear, but shock blew him away nonetheless. This place, these people, were like being dropped in another dimension with no compass or instructions. Another world he never fathomed could exist.

Nakos stood and glanced around. "Kind of downsizing your life, if you ask me. Smells like someone's great-grandmother's attic, too."

Despite the chaos in his head and turmoil in his chest, Nate huffed a laugh.

A wry smile, and Nakos set his empty bottle back in the cardboard case on the floor. "Here's my take. If you love her, denying her happiness and the man she wants is no way to prove it." He crossed his arms. "And if you still question the worth of that man, consider the motives. Nothing you've done, said, or thought up until now has been about your needs or desires. Yet you feel bad for circumstances beyond your control. Which means you have a conscience. Sounds like you're not the bad guy you thought you were."

Oddly...touched, Nate watched Nakos stride toward the door. "Hey." He waited for Nakos to face him. "She would've been better off with you."

A slow shake of his head, and Nakos offered a regretful smile. "We had all our lives to go that route. She was waiting for you." He turned, paused, and slapped his hand to the jamb. "Oh, and I want a picture of you in that ugly Meadowlark Police uniform. I'll put it on my holiday cards for a good chuckle."

Laughing, Nate scrubbed his hands over his face and sat in silence awhile.

His head had too much crap shoving around and vying for attention to make decisions tonight. The last thing he needed was to act impulsively. Best to sleep on it. Tomorrow was another day.

But, damn. Olivia was upset. Looking for him. Worried.

Christ, he missed her. Not even a day, and he was experiencing something akin to withdrawal. Where her warmth had filled him, now there was cold blackness. He'd spent his whole life wanting what she offered, and now that it was right in front of him, it seemed too good to be true. A taunt from fate. A joke at his expense.

That was the root of his hesitation. Yes, guilt was a living thing inside him. Yes, he'd probably spend an eternity trying to prove he was worth her. Yes, he'd made terrible mistakes. But no, he wasn't God. She'd been right all along. Her little experiments had done a number on his mind and pulled him out of himself to see her view.

He'd done everything she ever asked of him, but one. Talk to Justin. Nate suspected the reason for his adamant refusal was because, somewhere deep inside, he knew once he did, it would mean letting go. Shedding the past. The pain. The skewed image he'd carried around.

Saying goodbye to the first friend he ever made.

Damn it. Needing something to do, he rose and rummaged in his bag for sweats. A run should exhaust him enough to allow him to collapse into sleep.

After he changed, he went downstairs and introduced himself to the three night shift officers, then stepped outside. Humidity and the threat of rain lingered in the cool air, but it was perfect for a run. Without any direction in mind, he took off under the disguise of a full moon.

And wound up in front of the Cattenach Ranch.

Huffing, he set his hands on his hips. It figured. All roads led to her, didn't they? Even the one Justin had laid.

To wind down, Nate walked up the driveway and stopped at the base of the porch. The house was dark, quiet, while crickets chirped and an owl hooted. It was too late to be here and he didn't have a clue what to say to Olivia even if she were awake.

He went to turn away when something reflected out of the corner of his eye. He eased closer and found his whittling supplies in the metal bucket on the steps. In his haste, he'd forgotten to grab them. Glancing around at the sinister shadows the trees created and the utter stillness, he shook his head and said screw it.

Snatching the bucket, he strode around the house and headed for the cemetery. If he was going to do this, to say goodbye to Justin, then it was best Nate be alone with his demons. The pitch blackness worked for him, too.

His shoes crunched on loose gravel and slipped on a couple patches of wet grass as he climbed a hill, rounded a bend, and came to an abrupt stop at the fence. The place was even creepier and ethereal at night. He'd never been comfortable in cemeteries, yet he opened the gate and made his way to Justin's grave.

Adoring son. Loving brother. Faithful friend. Devoted soldier.

Fallen but never forgotten.

Damn if that didn't sum up the guy in too few words.

Nate stared at the stone, rubbing his chest and trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. A vision of Olivia from the first time she'd brought him here filtered to mind. She'd sat right down and started chattering. He'd been too shocked and enamored to pay attention to what she'd said, though.

Regardless, he plopped on his ass and put the bucket in front of him. He pulled out supplies and a chunk of wood, letting his hands do what they wanted while he cleared his head with the task.

"Your sister says I should talk to you, that it makes her feel better." He frowned. "Between you and me, it's making me feel like an idiot."

His strokes of the knife grew sharper, forceful. "Actually, that's not true. I'm pissed off. I gave you every go-away vibe I had in reserve, ignored you hard as I could, and you befriended me, anyway. Flapping your gums and making me laugh." His arms ached with the tool's ministrations. Short, blunt strokes increased in violence. "Screw you, bastard. You made me like you. Did you ever listen to me when it counted? No. You got yourself killed."

He froze, realizing what he'd said. "You died and left me here for the fallout. Your sister was a wreck. She still weeps at the littlest reminder of you." He sighed, his anger deflating. "Hell, I miss you, too." He refocused on carving. "Tell anyone and I'll deny it."

After a few beats of silence, he stared at what he'd donea figurine of the sun with triangular beams and a heart at the center. He shook his head. "That sums you up, doesn't it?" he mumbled. "Bright as the effing sun and loveable as shit."

With a swipe of his thumb over the front, he placed the carving at the base of the grave and set his supplies in the bucket once more. Then, he flopped onto his back and rested his head on his bent arm.

Stars winked overhead in the inky sky and it reminded him of a couple instances where he and Justin had done this very thing overseas. To unwind or clear their heads or to let crap wash off them. Nate had never done anything like it until Justin had made him, nor had he since being discharged. He'd forgotten how relaxing it was to lay and do nothing. Just...be.

"I'm in love with your sister." He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eye sockets. "As I did with you, I tried to fight the connection. But you two are like kryptonite to a loser such as me."

Letting the cool breeze float over him, he exhaled, releasing all the tension and pain and trials he'd endured. They were too damn heavy to carry any longer.

"You might've warned me she was so damn beautiful." He turned his head and eyed the grave. "Seriously. One minute she's sexy as hell, the next she's too cute for words. And Christ, she's always got something to say. Funny and clever, like you."

His gaze drifted away, blurred. "She makes it hard to catch my breath and, yet, I can't seem to breathe without her. I'm beginning to want things, stuff I never thought I could have. Happiness, for one." He closed his eyes. "Happiness, Justin. Imagine that."

Groaning, he threw his arm over his face. "And it's annoying how, ninety-nine percent of the time, she's not wrong. Is that a female thing or target specific to her?"

Because she'd been right about this. About everything, thus far.

Talking to Justin did help.