My next words were cut off as she threw her arms around my neck. "I seriously love you. I'm so glad you moved here," she said, giving me a smacking kiss on the cheek.
"I love you too, but I don't swing from that tree," I teased, linking my elbow through hers. "Let's go get you out of this date from hell."
Neither of the guys were talking by the time we reached the table. I had the distinct impression that wasn't the case the whole time we were gone. Judging by the scowl on Travis's face and the smirk of satisfaction on Nathan, something had gone down in our absence.
"We have to go," I said to Nathan, keeping my arm linked through Tressa's. "Tressa's not feeling good," I lied. Nathan jumped up without hesitation, obviously eager to leave.
"What the fuck? Your friends show up and you're suddenly ready to bail," Travis said, reaching out to snag her wrist. "I'm not ready for the night to be over."
"I am. This was a joke," she said with some of the fire I was used to seeing as she jerked her wrist from his hand.
Tressa and I grabbed our purses and turned to leave with Nathan trailing behind us.
"I'm proud of you," I said, giving her a one-armed hug as we headed across the dance floor toward the exit.
"Yeah, but now I have to face him twice a week in class. That ought to be fun," she said sarcastically.
"He'll probably ignore you," I said as someone stepped in front of us, abruptly cutting us off. I was startled to see that it was Travis.
"Babe, don't leave. We were just starting to have fun before your friends showed up," he cajoled, shooting a disdainful look my way. "Stay for a while," he pleaded, grabbing her hand again.
"Look, Travis, you're a nice enough guy, but I just don't see things working for us," Tressa said, tugging on her hand.
"Why, because your morbid bitch friend shows up and convinces you to leave," he snarled, tightening his hold on her wrist.
His comment seemed to start a ripple effect. Tressa may allow guys to treat her like a doormat, but she was obviously over it. She thrust her knee up into the poor bastard's groin, just as a fist streaked out from behind us, connecting with his jaw. Travis dropped at our feet in a matter of seconds after the confrontation had started.
The funny thing is no one around us seemed to miss a beat as they continued to dance around Travis lying on the ground. We didn't stick around for questions as Nathan propelled Tressa and me out of the club.
"Dude, your fist came out of nowhere," Tressa crowed as we stepped out into the brisk night.
Nathan merely nodded his head, not saying anything. It was hard for me to get a read on whether he was mad at Travis for his comment or at himself for hitting him.
"You both were pretty awesome coming to my defense like that," I said, trying to smooth things over.
"As if I'd let some dick talk smack about one of my besties," Tressa said, glancing at Nathan who was walking several paces ahead of us. She sent me a questioning look, but I shrugged my shoulders. This brooding side of him was something new to me.
"You just have to remember that attitude if he tries to give you any shit at school," I said, acting like everything was fine.
"I will. Something in there made me snap. I'm not going to be a doormat anymore. I want a relationship where the guy is willing to punch some dude in the face to defend my honor," she said, making it clear that Nathan could do no wrong in her eyes now.
It was on the edge of my tongue to tell her Nathan and I weren't in a relationship, that what we had was nothing but sexual. I could have set her straight, but even I was unsure what we suddenly were now. We'd been inseparable for the last five days, sharing stories, discovering each other's bodies and most of all, forming a bond I don't think either of us was expecting. I wanted him to forget his past history with love, but also, I didn't want to be sick, so we could have a chance at a real relationship.
"I think we should follow you to Woodfalls," Nathan told Tressa, opening her car door for her. "I don't think Travis will be going anywhere soon, but I'd rather you were out of Dodge if he tries to retaliate."
"I don't think he will, but it makes me feel better knowing you guys will be following me," she said as he closed the car door and led me across the lot to where we had parked.
"That was sweet of you," I said, climbing into the vehicle.
"I'm just trying to clear my conscience since I'm the one who punched him," he said regretfully.
I waited until he started the vehicle and was merging onto the highway before I acknowledged his comment. At first, I debated not bringing it up since he was tightly clutching the steering wheel. "So, I'm glad you were there to help us with that asshole," I finally said. "I'm sure he still doesn't know what hit him," I added, remembering the dazed expression on Travis's face.
"I shouldn't have hit him. He's nothing but a punk-ass kid. I'm past this kind of shit," he muttered more to himself than to me. "And yet, I wish I would have hauled his ass outside and kicked it," Nathan answered, closing the gap between Tressa's car and us.
"I'm sure Tressa appreciates your chivalry."
"I didn't punch that sniveling shit for Tressa," he said, finally looking over at me.
"You didn't?" I asked as he reached over and grasped my hand.
"No, sweets. I punched him because of what he said to you. To tell you the truth, I wanted to knock his fucking teeth down his throat. I had to remind myself he's nothing but a stupid kid," he said with the same edge in his voice. It was hard for me to gauge if he was still mad at Travis or if something else was bothering him.
"He's not much younger than me," I reminded him.
"Believe me, I realize that, but the maturity level isn't even close. Sometimes you act like you're older than even Fran, like you've got one foot in the grave. Of course, I think Fran is more honest," he said with bitterness, not looking at me. At that moment, I knew he had figured out my secret.
I turned away from him, glancing out the window, willing myself not to cry. This wasn't a breakup. In order to be a breakup we had to be something that we weren't. This was nothing but a parting of ways.
We drove in silence for several more miles before he asked the question I'd been dreading the most. "Your list is a bucket list?"
"Yeah," I answered, still looking at the window so I wouldn't have to see what he was thinking.
"You're sick?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Cancer? Like your mom?"
"Yes. When I was seventeen I had ovarian cancer. They went in and removed both ovaries in the first surgery. Then, a few months later, they went in and removed my uterus. I was in remission up until four months ago," I answered in a dead voice.
"Are you dying?" he asked, sounding strained.
"Most likely," I said as a hot tear streaked down my face.
"What are your doctors saying?"
"They don't know. I left without telling anyone. Cancer ripped my mom away from my father, and then seven years later it threatened to take me too. We fought it. I lost my hair and nearly my life from the poisonous toxins they were pumping into my body to fight it. It took a toll on my father. I couldn't do it to him again, so I left," I said as he turned the vehicle down the narrow dirt road leading to my house.
I jumped out of the vehicle as soon as he put it in park. I couldn't stand the oppressiveness a second longer. I couldn't and wouldn't have this conversation closed up in a space I couldn't get out of.
I was halfway to my front door when he snagged my hand. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders to hold me in place.
"I didn't want your pity," I whispered, looking up into his face for the first time.
"Pity? Sweetheart, I don't pity you. I'm too scared to feel anything. You have to go to a doctor. What if you're wrong and it's not back?"
"It's back. I feel it."
"Even more reason for you to go to a doctor," he pleaded. "Why would you run away?"
"Because, I knew I couldn't fight it again. It swooped in and snatched my mom right before my eyes and tried to do the same to me. It won't rest until it takes what it wanted all along. Why fight something I was never going to win?"
"You act like it's a living, breathing thing that's out to get you. It's a disease that can be fought," he said, shaking my shoulders slightly for emphasis. "You have to fight it."
"Why?" I asked, waiting for the words that only he could utter that would make me at least try.
"Because I—"
Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as we both took in the black sedan that pulled into my driveway and came to a stop. My heart jumped to my throat as I saw the slightly rumpled, disheveled-looking gentleman step from the vehicle.
Nathan muttered something beside me, but I was focused on the familiar person in front of me.
"Hello, baby," the man greeted me.
"Hi, Daddy," I said as he turned to Nathan. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me what you're doing by seducing the person I hired you to find," he said with contempt in his voice.
Chapter 24: The Truth is Out
Nathan
"You were hired to find me?" Ashton asked.
"Yes. I'm a private investigator," I answered, ignoring her father. "I was hired a month ago to locate you and report your whereabouts."
"He took his sweet time to contact me though, since according to the motel attendant, he's been in town more than a week," her dad blustered.
She held up her hand to silence her father. Her father, the client. That was a fact I didn't know until tonight. When I took a job, I didn't ask and didn't care who the client was or why he or she wanted someone found. I completed the task because that's all it ever was. The details didn't matter. I'd figured it out earlier while we sat across from the mouthy pissant at the bar, but I wasn't completely sure until Ashton finally told me her whole secret. Everything suddenly made sense. Of course it had to be her father who hired me. It was never a jilted ex-lover like I had assumed.
"You were hired to find me?" she repeated. "And yet, you waited to tell my father. Why?"
I knew the moment she figured it out when her eyes clouded over with hurt and her shoulders slumped in defeat.
"You wanted a piece of ass first," she said, cheapening what we had shared. "I'm such an idiot," she continued with disgust.
"No," I said loudly. "You're forgetting who started this affair."
"That's not fair. You're forgetting who stalked who. At the bar. At the bridge. You charmed me into thinking you were actually interested in me!" she shouted, oblivious to the fact that she was airing our dirty laundry in front of her father.
"I was interested in you," I ground out through gritted teeth. "I'm still interested in you," I said, reaching for her.
She looked at my outstretched hand hesitantly before jerking away.
"You lied to me too," I reminded her. "You neglected to tell me you were sick and had run away from home," I goaded her, letting my own frustration get the best of me.
"You're right. I have no right to judge you," she said, brushing a tear away. "No attachments, right? That was the deal," she said, heading for her cottage.
I stood on the porch as her words hit me like a fist to the gut.
"I would trounce you for seducing my daughter if I wasn't convinced she just did it for me," her father said, making his way across the porch.
His hand was on the doorknob when my words stopped him. "She's sick," I said as despair crawled its way up my throat.
"I know," he said, his own shoulders drooping. "I knew it the moment she left. She's always been so goddamn worried about what her sickness will do to me. It's partially my fault. I was a mess when we lost her mother. Ashton was left to pick up the pieces and make us a family again even though we were missing such an important piece. We were finally learning to live without her when Ashton got sick," he added, turning to face me.
"She's convinced the cancer won't rest until it takes her," I said, repeating her words from earlier. "She doesn't want to fight it."
"I could see her thinking that. It nearly took her the last time. Sometimes, when I saw the intense pain she was in, I almost wished the cancer would win so she wouldn't feel the pain anymore."
"What are you going to do now?" I asked, frightened by the defeat in his voice. The thought that he was taking her home so she could die scared me beyond belief.
"I'm going to leave the decision to her, but I'm going to stay by her side whatever she decides."
"You have to make her fight," I said with a ragged edge in my voice.
"Why?"
"Because I love her," I admitted, expecting him to tell me I was crazy.
"I suspected as much, which is why I didn't shove your nuts down your throat for touching her," he said, turning away from me. "Despite your delay, I'm thankful you found my daughter," he added, stepping into the cottage and closing the door behind him.
I stood looking at the door for several moments, fighting the urge to storm in and rage at Ashton for giving up. Instead, I forced myself to walk away. I would come back in the morning and tell her our no-attachment deal was void, that I was one hundred percent attached. I would make her see reason so she would know I would be at her side, fighting along with her. Tomorrow everything would look better.
I was wrong.
Ashton's car and the sedan from the airport were gone when I arrived at the cottage the next morning after a sleepless night. My fears were confirmed when I peered in the living room window and saw that all of her personal belongings were gone. She'd left without saying anything. Maybe our affair had been nothing to her. Was it possible all my feelings were completely one-sided? She'd warned me not to fall in love with her, claiming one of us would get hurt. Considering it was my chest that felt like a hole had been ripped out of it, I was guessing I was the one in this scenario.
I left her cottage in a pain, berating myself for allowing another woman to rip out my heart and stomp on it. This was why I had set my rules. Rules that should never be broken. I returned to the motel and methodically began to pack my personal items. I left the pictures on the wall until the end, intending to tear them up and throw them away since I no longer needed them. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I took each picture down with painstaking care before stowing them carefully in my briefcase. Twenty minutes after entering my room, I was on the road, heading out of town. I looked forward to the long drive home. It would give me time to get my head back on straight.
