A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1) (41 page)

The idiot was filling his nose at nine in the damn morning. The shit was getting out of hand.

Carter sighed. “I’m headed to Chicago, Max. Where are you?” The faint sound of a female voice sounded in the background. “Who’s with you?”

Ignoring his question, Max retorted, “What the fuck are you going there for?” His tone made Carter bristle.

“Thanksgiving,” he replied firmly. “Kat invited me. I told you about it, remember? You said you’d be chillin’ at Paul’s.”

Max laughed, though it sounded humorless. “Oh yeah. You and Kat. The happy fucking couple.”

Here we go again. There was a crash on the line, something hitting the floor, and high-pitched giggling that could only be chemical-induced. “Max. Are you okay? What’s up?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he spat. “You clearly have better things to do, brother. You always do.”

Carter’s temper spiked. “That’s not true. Don’t be a dick, Max.”

But the line went dead. Carter stared at the cell screen, incredulous and angry. He and Max had spoken little about his and Kat’s relationship, not least of all because Max’s bitterness and anger over Lizzie clouded his ability to see how happy Carter was. The more Carter felt for Kat, the madder Max appeared to become. Carter’s joy was apparently of little importance to Max, who was too involved in his own despair. The amount of coke he was doing daily simply exacerbated the situation.

And Carter was powerless to stop it.

Every time he offered to help—be it money or support—he was met with resistance. Max’s pride was almost as difficult to penetrate as his stubbornness. Carter and Paul had discussed an intervention—the only place for Max now was rehab—but both men knew that would only end badly.

“Everything okay?” Kat’s expression was anxious.

“No.” Carter sent a quick text to Cam and Paul, telling them to go to the shop and make sure Max hadn’t choked on his own vomit or some shit. In irritation, he began fiddling with the radio, playing station commando for a good five minutes, appreciative of the fact that Kat didn’t push further.

“Don’t forget you have to call Diane when we cross the state line,” Kat said instead.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, settling back in the leather seat of the Jag XJ and letting the sounds of Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” relax into his bones. Carter hummed along and played the invisible chords of the song against the blue vein in Kat’s wrist. He brought Kat’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckle.

She hummed. “Tell me what it is you’re worried about.”

He replied with a peevish shrug, like that shit would discourage her from asking questions. Truth was, there was no escaping Kat and anything she asked him. His ass remained trapped in a cream leather bucket seat traveling across the country at seventy miles an hour.

Awesome.

“Tell me.”

Carter clasped the bridge of his nose. “I’m worried about a lot of things. I can’t think of just one.”

“Okay,” she soothed. “But you should know there really is no need to—”

His patience snapped, his words bursting from him in a sharp rush. “For Christ’s sake, I’m a criminal, Peaches. Of course there’s reason to worry.”

He didn’t mean to bite, but he was beyond edgy. His spine was wired and his stomach was in knots, twisting frequently between fear and panic. Yeah, he was a fucking mess.

Kat remained silent.

He was instantly contrite. “Look, shit, I’m sorry, baby—”

“No, it’s all right,” Kat interrupted. “This is a big deal for you. I’m sorry I’ve not addressed that properly, I really am.” Her sincerity made his chest tight. “Just say the word and I’ll turn the car around. If this is too much for you, I don’t want you to feel this uncomfortable.”

What the hell had he done to deserve her?

“I don’t want you to turn the car around.” He breathed deeply, turning in his seat to see her better. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but I want to be with you this weekend.” Carter ran his free hand across his head. “I just want your grandmother to see I’m not just a …” He swirled his fingers toward his chest, thinking of a list of not-too-nice adjectives. “You know, and that I care about you.”

Kat slowed the car as they approached a junction. “She will. My grandmother is the very best person I know. She doesn’t judge.”

She laid her palm against Carter’s neck, running her thumb along his jaw. “We can just be us. You and me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

* * *

They were only twenty minutes from the house when Carter’s gut began to do backflips. His back was also all kinds of fucking sweaty, which was ridiculous considering it was colder than a witch’s tit outside the car. It’d even snowed a little.

“You feel okay?”

Carter rested his head back, watching Kat drive. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured, pressing his cheek against the headrest. “I’m just gonna watch you until we get there.”

She smiled with her eyes still on the road. “Like when you have a flu shot, huh?”

Carter frowned. “What?”

Kat glanced in the rearview, changing lanes. “When I was a little girl, my dad took me for my shots, and he’d always say that if I didn’t look, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. It wasn’t as scary if you couldn’t see it comin’.” She smiled again, her eyes wistful. “I’d hide in his neck and pray for it to be over.”

“Did it work?”

“Every time.”

The sides of his mouth lifted. She’d spoken a lot about her father since they’d left New York. Carter couldn’t deny he would like to have met Daniel Lane, regardless of how the man would have reacted to Carter dating his daughter.

“Do you think …?” Carter wrapped his thumb around the side of Kat’s little finger hopefully. “Do you think that he would have liked me?”

Kat pulled to a stop, as the lights changed to red, and turned to face him. “I think you and my father are more alike than even I realize. I think he would have thought you were awesome.”

God, he wished that were true enough to erase the dark fear lurking just beneath his skin. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she answered with no hint of doubt in her voice. “I do. Kiss me?”

Carter moved so their lips met. Keeping his eyes open, he watched Kat’s roll back into her head. He let the tip of his tongue trace her bottom lip and sighed when she pulled back and continued to drive.

“I don’t remember having my shots,” he confessed quietly.

Kat glanced at him. “You don’t?”

He shook his head, trying to recollect.

Kat scrunched her shoulders, making her voice bright and indifferent, but Carter knew she was feeling sorry for him. The sympathy prickled his skin like a nettle sting, making his molars grind.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Kat offered. “Having shots is awful.”

It seemed like such a ridiculous thing to want to remember. He exhaled hard at the memories he did have. Hurt. Tears. Isolation. Hate. Fuck it, he thought, when the anger began to rise. There was no changing his past; he had to look forward, and having Kat at his side was one giant leap in the right direction. He squeezed her leg, his fingers whispering over the denim seam running up the inside of her thigh.

“Carter?” She swallowed.

He smiled. “Yeah?”

“We’re here.”

Carter snapped his head around to see a huge redbrick house appearing at the end of a long stone driveway, surrounded by gardens. Carter’s heart gave a resounding kick behind his ribs. He was suddenly desperate for a cigarette. Frantically patting himself down, he found the pack of smokes in his jeans pocket and swallowed in relief. Thank God.

Unexpectedly, a terrible thought crossed his mind: Shit, what if Kat’s grandmother hated smokers?

“Carter?”

Kat’s voice sounded miles away and when he turned to look at her, Carter had the oddest sensation that he was floating underwater, unable to breathe.

Kat unclipped her seat belt. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

Carter rubbed the center of his chest, willing his airways to open up. It didn’t help. A wave of cold sweat crashed over him, shooting down his back like icy claws. He couldn’t breathe. Christ. His lungs were seizing.

What was he doing? Why had he agreed to this fuckery? He didn’t do this. He didn’t meet families. It was laughable, really, thinking Kat’s grandmother would accept him. She’d never accept him because he wasn’t good enough. He’d never be good enough.

Stupid, stupid idiot.

“Hey,” Kat said, pulling his hands from his face to her lap.

“Kat, I—I’m not …” He gasped. “I can’t.”

“You’re fine, Carter. I’m here and you’re fine.” Kat put her hands on his neck and rubbed his pulse points with the pads of her thumbs. “Tell me,” she murmured, kissing the fingertips of his right hand. “Tell me you know what you mean to me.”

His lungs shuddered. “I know. I know. But I—”

Her forehead met his, holding it up, holding him up. “No. No buts. That’s all you have to think about.”

See?
her tone whispered.
Easy.

With three deep breaths, Carter’s pulse slowed. Focusing on her fingers drawing circles on his skin, he managed to sit up a little straighter. He had to get a grip. He couldn’t allow his fear to be the first thing Kat’s grandmother would see. No way.

He moved forward, capturing Kat’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Are you okay now?”

He dropped his gaze to the floor of the car. “Just don’t leave me, okay?”

“I won’t,” Kat said fervently, dismissing his neediness as quickly as he offered it. “Come on.”

Before Carter could stop her, she was getting out of the car and bouncing excitedly around the hood.

“Here goes fuckin’ nothing.” Carter opened the car door and got out.

He shut the car door and pushed his hands into his pockets against the cold air and the sudden, colder memories of his own mother’s house, the foreboding that settled in his bones every time he was dropped off at the front door and the look on her face when she opened it, regretful and inconvenienced. Christ, he’d just been a kid, scared shitless and alone. He swallowed and fought the memories back. They were soon forgotten when the front door opened and a huge black-and-white dog came bounding out, tongue flopping and tail wagging.

* * *

“Reggie!” Kat squealed and crouched down to him. He whined and barked in happiness.

She rubbed the mutt’s belly until his back legs were scratching and kicking up like a lunatic. “I missed you, too,” she cooed.

“Kat!”

She looked up to see Nana Boo, dressed in a huge parka and mittens, hurrying from the door, looking as wonderful as she always did. Trevor, her help, followed with a warm smile.

“Nana,” Kat breathed, instantly at peace. She stood and allowed her grandmother to envelop her in one of her hugs.

“Angel.” Nana Boo smiled into Kat’s hair. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

“You too.”

Kat kissed her cheek before she pulled back. She glanced toward Carter shifting on his feet and rounding his shoulders in defense. She immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him with her. His grip on her hand was painful, but she would have taken all he had to ensure he was protected and comfortable.

“Nana,” Kat said with a dip of her chin, “this is Carter. He’s my … Wes.”

Carter’s head almost toppled off his neck he looked at her so quickly. His eyes were wide with surprise, but the smile threatening the corners of his perfect mouth told Kat her words were the right ones.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carter,” Nana Boo offered with an outstretched hand and an ecstatic smile that creased her face in a thousand different ways.

Carter cleared his throat. “Nice to finally meet you, too,” he said as their hands met.

Nana Boo’s eager arms encircled Carter around his waist. She pressed her cheek against him and squeezed.

“Um, hi,” Carter mumbled, while staring at Kat over the top of the aged woman’s woolen hat. Kat smiled.

“I’ve been so excited to meet the man who’s captured my Kat’s heart,” Nana Boo whispered.

She stepped back and wiped a finger under her shimmering eyes. “Oh my.” She chuckled, observing the tears on her skin. “Silly old woman.”

“Not at all,” Carter said with a half smile.

Nana Boo cupped his cheek and tapped it tenderly. “And, darling, you’re just as gorgeous as she described.” She laughed at the speechless expression on Carter’s handsome face, and snaked her arm through the crook of his elbow. “Let’s get you inside. It’s too damn cold out here. Kat, give Trevor the keys. He’ll collect the bags.”

Carter pulled Kat with him, gripping her hand as if his life depended on it. She rubbed her palm up and down his forearm in placation. God, he’d been truly terrified when they’d been in the car. The distress was almost visible around him, evil and unrelenting. She knew where it came from; he carried it around with him like a lead weight.

Kat bit the inside of her mouth. The hate she harbored for his family made her teeth snap. They’d treated him so appallingly, never loving, caring, or nurturing him as he grew, and he now considered himself unworthy, with no comprehension of just how incredible a man he had become. It was painfully tragic.

“Was the drive good? The car was all right?” Nana Boo asked. She shut the front door behind them and pulled off her hat.

“Yeah.” Kat took a step closer to Carter’s side, knowing his need for contact. “He didn’t complain about my driving once.” She smiled when she saw him roll his eyes, his finger twirling a piece of her hair on her shoulder. “You may have even turned him into a Jaguar fan.”

Nana Boo’s eyes lit up. “You like cars?”

Carter scratched his neck. “Yeah, I, um, I dabble.”

“Carter likes motorcycles, too,” Kat interjected, ignoring the pointed look he shot her.

Nana Boo gasped. “A real-life Steve McQueen! Oh, be still, my beating heart.”

Kat giggled into Carter’s shoulder and closed her eyes when she heard him burst with laughter.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he murmured. “But I like them.”

“Well, I’ll show you the Triumph I have in my garage later.” Nana Boo winked. “You kids need a warm drink.”

Carter stared after the little woman as she scurried past them to the kitchen.