A French Whipping (24 page)

28

ROLAND WAS WAITING
for him when Nick stepped off the elevator at the office, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his dark blue eyes concerned.

“Milton told me something happened at the hospital. Was it Keenan?”

No, it had been him. He’d scared her. “No,” he said shortly, and moved past Roland to head for his office.

Roland followed him.

“I don’t feel like talking,” Nick muttered.

“Too bad.”

Ignoring his friend, Nick walked around his desk and took a seat, but he didn’t turn on his display. Roland took the chair across from his desk and put one ankle on his knee like he intended to get comfortable for a nice, long chat. Roland looked prepared to wait him out until the end of time if necessary.

“I’m no good for her,” he said finally. “I saw her talking to someone—this doctor—and it was like I completely lost control of myself. I hated it. I hated her talking to him. This is why I always kept my distance. I can’t not feel this way about her.”

“Hmm . . .” Roland pressed his palms together and put the tips of his fingers to his lips. “What did she say about it?”

She’d sucked his cock, Nick thought a little wildly. She’d taken his cock inside that beautiful mouth and drank him down, even licking her lips a little when she’d moved away.

“She said that she deserved better.” That was true. She’d said that. “And she’s right.”

Roland tapped his fingers against his lips and looked expectant. “What else did she say?”

Nick shrugged. “She said she knew I would never hurt her, and that if this was a problem I have, we could work on it.”

“So, you don’t want to do that?”

Nick clenched his teeth. Even if he learned how to be with Blake and managed this flood of emotions that seized him whenever he thought about losing her, she deserved someone who didn’t have issues like this. After a while, she would realize that as well, and he would be left alone to deal with the wreck he’d become. “She’ll realize that she doesn’t have to settle for me. She can find someone who doesn’t have this issue.”

Roland dropped his hands and sat back, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Let me get this straight. You think she deserves better and you’re convinced that one day, no matter what you do, she’ll realize that and leave.”

It had happened before . . . over and over again when he was a kid. He knew exactly how it would work, every time.

Nick nodded.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Roland said in disgust, standing up. He left Nick’s office and shut the door.

Nick blinked. That was it? Roland was just going to leave with that?

A minute later the door opened again and Roland stood there with boxing gloves draped around his neck and his gym bag in hand.

“Get your stuff. We’re going to have a chat while I beat some sense into you.”

Blake held Missy in her lap and sat slowly on the edge of Nick’s bed, shaken by what had just occurred. It had been so much like what had happened with Keenan, with Carlos and Phillip—the questions, the accusations. He’d realized that he was being unreasonable, of course, and he was Nick, but how could he just give up like that? How could he just decide that what they had wasn’t even worth trying?

Was he right? Was she deluding herself into loving yet another person who didn’t deserve it? No. She knew him. She wasn’t going to doubt herself.

The kitten purred beneath her fingers—she was probably hungry. Numbly, Blake stood and carried her into the kitchen.

While Missy ate, Blake changed into comfortable clothes and her motorcycle boots in case it rained, as it had been promising to all evening. She located her coat and purse and sat on the couch while she waited for Shane to return and take her to the support group meeting. She felt strangely numb, and didn’t even smile as Missy dashed into the living room with the mouse toy in her mouth, dropping it and pouncing on it in turns.

Her phone beeped. Shane was downstairs.

Blake caught Missy after several attempts and put her away into the kitchen before heading to the elevator to go downstairs. As she walked through the apartment, she realized how much she had grown comfortable there, how easily she could imagine sliding into real life with Nick, hanging out with him in the evenings, going sailing, playing with him in bed and out of it.

She loved him. But she’d thought she loved Keenan, and Carlos, and Phillip. Was he right not to trust her love, not to believe that they could work on anything together, including her fear and his jealousy?

Blinking back tears, Blake straightened her shoulders as she rode down the elevator. Maybe someone at the support group would help her figure it out.

Most of the employees at Accendo had gone home for the day by the time Nick and Roland had changed and stood together in the impromptu boxing ring. It was nearly five o’clock, and Blake would be on her way to her support group, where they would undoubtedly tell her that she should end her relationship with him immediately.

Nick wasn’t sure why Roland wanted to box, but he was glad for the distraction, glad for the excuse to expend some of the murderous rage that had overcome him at the sight of that doctor’s leering face.

Roland walked to the center of the ring and Nick met him, hoping that his friend was prepared for the fight. Roland swung and Nick ducked, jabbing at Roland’s side, but his friend dodged away from the blow.

“So you got jealous,” Roland said.

Nick threw a punch at Roland’s head, only to be blocked and suddenly fighting off a combination of punches that had him taking several steps backward.

“Yes,” he snarled. “I’ve always been jealous. I’ve wanted to kill every man that has touched her for ten years.” He stepped forward and tried his own combination, kneeling slightly to aim for Roland’s side, trying to get in under his guard.

Roland blocked him and took a swing at Nick’s head, but hit his glove instead.

“But you haven’t. You let her make her choices.”

“That was before.” Nick faked a left hook and tried to go for the body, but Roland was there again, dodging away and using his longer reach to aim for Nick’s head.

“You think something’s changed because you’ve slept with her?”

“No.” Nick stepped back. “She told me she loved me.”

Roland mimicked him, stepping back as well and dropping his arms. “And that’s a bad thing because?”

Nick didn’t know how to explain it, so he lifted his fists again and rushed Roland. “Before, I didn’t have a right to how I felt. She wasn’t mine,” he snarled and let loose with a rapid combination that had Roland blocking continuously to avoid getting punched in the kidneys.

“I hate to break this to you,” Roland gasped. Both of them were covered with sweat and already panting. “But no one has a right to how they feel. We just feel. You were jealous then, and you’re jealous now. That’s your problem, not hers.”

“I know it’s my problem.” Nick punched at Roland again. “I’m trying to tell you that.”

Roland stepped forward with an uppercut, which Nick blocked, but then he ducked and jabbed at Nick’s side too quickly for Nick to anticipate, and he stumbled backward, gasping.

Roland looked darkly satisfied. “No one is disagreeing with you. It’s your problem, but telling Blake that she’s better off without you is a fucked-up way of dealing with it.”

“She is.”

“Let her decide that, asshole.”

“She can’t be trusted,” Nick shouted and stopped suddenly, realizing exactly what he’d just said.

“Ahh.” Roland smiled. “There we have it. It’s not that she can’t be trusted with other men. She can’t be trusted to stay and work with you. She can’t be trusted to love you. Why not, Nick?” Roland taunted him. “You think because she’s made a mistake before, she’s making a mistake now?”

Nick turned away. “She is.”

“Will anyone ever love her as much as you do?”

No,
Nick answered silently.
No one will ever love her as much as I love her. No one ever could.

“Doesn’t she deserve to be loved like that?”

Nick nodded, still turned away. “She deserves everything.”

“And don’t you, Nick? Don’t you deserve to be loved?”

The shelter was even more crowded than usual when Blake arrived for the support group meeting, and she had to weave her way through several families before she was able to get to the cafeteria where the meetings were held. Rosa was already there, as was Angela, looking faintly irritated.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Rosa said when Blake drew close.

Blake lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

“Could you help Angela bring in the refreshments? She’s brought fish and pasta for everyone from where she works. I have to greet a new family that just arrived, and everyone else is busy.”

Blake blinked in surprise. Somehow she hadn’t pegged Angela as the type to go out of her way to help. “Yes, of course.” She looked at Angela. “That was really nice of you.”

The woman shrugged. “My boss said it was okay. A big group canceled on him this week, so he had extra supplies.”

“Where is it?”

Angela nodded to the kitchen, where a back door opened to an alley wide enough for delivery trucks.

“My boss’s van is back there. The food is probably getting cold.”

Blake knew that she wasn’t the reason the food was getting cold, but she still somehow felt that Angela was implying that Blake was definitely to blame. Swallowing her irritation, she gestured for the woman to lead the way.

As soon as Angela’s back was turned, Blake rolled her eyes at Rosa, who gave her a tolerant smile.

Angela walked quickly for such a small woman, and Blake had to hurry to catch up as she marched through the kitchen and out the door. Irritated, but trying not to show it, Blake shoved the door open, only to gasp in surprise when someone much bigger and taller than Angela put a cloth-covered hand over her mouth.

Blake smelled something sickly sweet and cloying, and then the world went dark.

Nick stared at Roland. “That’s a bullshit question.” He started unlacing his gloves with his teeth. Worthy of love, his ass. Roland had been watching too much fucking
Dr. Phil
.

“Is it?” Roland looked smugly superior as always.