“Nan called him.”
“Where is she? Is she OK?”
I nodded at Rush. “Ask him.”
“She’s terrified, sick, and in her room. What the fuck is going on?” Rush demanded.
I thought about telling him not to talk to Cope that way, because Cope was a mean bastard, but I was the one with the gun cocked and loaded, so I figured it was all good.
“Sick?” Cope asked suddenly, sounding a little too concerned. Was he forgetting that I had a dying man here with info he needed? Jesus.
“Yes, but that’s expected after she’s witnessed all this. What is going on?” Rush replied.
Cope turned his attention to Franco. “Put him in the bed of the truck. I don’t want him to bleed on my shit.” Then he walked toward the front door like he owned it.
“Who the fuck are you?” Rush was pissed now. No one ever ignored Rush, and this was a first for him.
“A friend. I’d like to see Nan,” Cope responded, calm and reasonable.
“She ain’t gonna want to see you. She knows about the surveillance and shit. I got mad and left her a note.”
Cope shot me a look. “And when I had the place cleaned, the note was destroyed, dumb-ass. She never saw it.”
Well, damn. I hadn’t thought he’d still have the cameras and shit to clean up by then. “That explains her confusion when I referred to you as Cope. She does now know your name is Cope, not Gannon.”
He turned back to Rush. “I need to see Nan.”
“You need to tell me who the fuck you are first,” Rush said.
“Gannon?” Nan said as she stepped up behind Rush. Damn, shit was about to get real.
“It’s Cope, Nan. My name is Cope.”
That was a cold way to tell her he’d lied to her. I wasn’t too happy with the pain and disappointment that crossed her face. She’d been hurt enough in life. She’d been misunderstood and hated by those who didn’t understand her. Here, for once in her life, she’d thought she could trust someone, and she’d been shown that she couldn’t. But no, the asshole didn’t think about how this would hurt her. How it could destroy her. He just fucking threw it out there.
At least my letter had been kinder. It had explained things, and I’d made sure she knew it had been more for me. That she was special and that a piece of my heart had become hers even when I’d been trying not to care about her. She’d gotten to me anyway.
“Cope?” She said the name as if she was asking, but the way the realization sank with it hurt my heart.
“Yes. My name is Cope. I’ve been working with Major.”
Well, motherfucker. The crushed look on her face pissed me the hell off. “Shut the hell up, Cope!” I yelled at him, before he could say more stupid shit to cause her pain.
“She needs to know now,” he said simply, not taking his eyes off her.
“Not this way, she doesn’t. Fuck! Just get what you need from this man before he bleeds out.”
Cope turned his gaze to me. “I already got it. Two weeks ago. That’s why he’s here.”
“What?” I was confused as hell. I’d been tracking the dirty bastard. How did Cope already have what he needed?
He had started to reply when I saw him reach for his gun. His eyes zoned in on something just over my shoulder, and I braced myself. I knew. I didn’t need to turn to see what he was looking at.
I heard the gunshot before the world went dark around me.
Nan
I couldn’t stop screaming. It was the sound of pain tearing from my soul. Rush’s hands were on my shoulders as I jerked away, my shrill voice telling him to stop. To leave me alone.
He was gone. Major was gone. That pretty face and cocky grin wiped away. No. Nonononononono . . . . I chanted the words over and over as my heart shattered inside me. This wasn’t happening. Major wasn’t dead.
“Wake up!” I yelled, throwing back my head and squeezing my eyes tightly. I wanted to wake up.
Rush was telling me something. I heard him, but I couldn’t focus. I just saw Major crumple to the ground, over and over again in my mind. I felt the jolt of sorrow rock me in that moment.
“I need to wake up,” I told Rush frantically when Major remained dead in front of me.
“You’re not asleep, sweetheart. Come here.” Rush’s voice was gentle as he pulled me into his arms, and this time I went. Because I wasn’t sure I could keep myself together. I was falling into a million pieces, and I needed arms to hold me.
“Hes dead!” I wailed into his chest.
Rush didn’t respond. He just held me tighter. We sat like that for a while, and then Rush lifted me into his arms, and I let him. I didn’t look back at Major. I couldn’t see that again. I wanted to remember his beautiful face laughing. Making me forgive him with his charming ways that he knew would get him out of trouble.
“Keep her inside. This will be cleaned up and dealt with. I have backup coming.” Gannon . . . No, Cope. His name was Cope. He’d been working with Major. He hadn’t found me by chance. He hadn’t made love to me. He had used me. I was a tool. It made sense. Someone like Gannon had been too good for me. That man hadn’t been real. He’d been an act.
Rush didn’t respond to him. Sirens began wailing in the distance, and I buried my head deeper into my brother’s chest. My front yard was a crime scene. Darkness had fallen over my life in a way I’d never expected. Finding joy again wouldn’t be possible.
“Where is she? Is she OK?”
I nodded at Rush. “Ask him.”
“She’s terrified, sick, and in her room. What the fuck is going on?” Rush demanded.
I thought about telling him not to talk to Cope that way, because Cope was a mean bastard, but I was the one with the gun cocked and loaded, so I figured it was all good.
“Sick?” Cope asked suddenly, sounding a little too concerned. Was he forgetting that I had a dying man here with info he needed? Jesus.
“Yes, but that’s expected after she’s witnessed all this. What is going on?” Rush replied.
Cope turned his attention to Franco. “Put him in the bed of the truck. I don’t want him to bleed on my shit.” Then he walked toward the front door like he owned it.
“Who the fuck are you?” Rush was pissed now. No one ever ignored Rush, and this was a first for him.
“A friend. I’d like to see Nan,” Cope responded, calm and reasonable.
“She ain’t gonna want to see you. She knows about the surveillance and shit. I got mad and left her a note.”
Cope shot me a look. “And when I had the place cleaned, the note was destroyed, dumb-ass. She never saw it.”
Well, damn. I hadn’t thought he’d still have the cameras and shit to clean up by then. “That explains her confusion when I referred to you as Cope. She does now know your name is Cope, not Gannon.”
He turned back to Rush. “I need to see Nan.”
“You need to tell me who the fuck you are first,” Rush said.
“Gannon?” Nan said as she stepped up behind Rush. Damn, shit was about to get real.
“It’s Cope, Nan. My name is Cope.”
That was a cold way to tell her he’d lied to her. I wasn’t too happy with the pain and disappointment that crossed her face. She’d been hurt enough in life. She’d been misunderstood and hated by those who didn’t understand her. Here, for once in her life, she’d thought she could trust someone, and she’d been shown that she couldn’t. But no, the asshole didn’t think about how this would hurt her. How it could destroy her. He just fucking threw it out there.
At least my letter had been kinder. It had explained things, and I’d made sure she knew it had been more for me. That she was special and that a piece of my heart had become hers even when I’d been trying not to care about her. She’d gotten to me anyway.
“Cope?” She said the name as if she was asking, but the way the realization sank with it hurt my heart.
“Yes. My name is Cope. I’ve been working with Major.”
Well, motherfucker. The crushed look on her face pissed me the hell off. “Shut the hell up, Cope!” I yelled at him, before he could say more stupid shit to cause her pain.
“She needs to know now,” he said simply, not taking his eyes off her.
“Not this way, she doesn’t. Fuck! Just get what you need from this man before he bleeds out.”
Cope turned his gaze to me. “I already got it. Two weeks ago. That’s why he’s here.”
“What?” I was confused as hell. I’d been tracking the dirty bastard. How did Cope already have what he needed?
He had started to reply when I saw him reach for his gun. His eyes zoned in on something just over my shoulder, and I braced myself. I knew. I didn’t need to turn to see what he was looking at.
I heard the gunshot before the world went dark around me.
Nan
I couldn’t stop screaming. It was the sound of pain tearing from my soul. Rush’s hands were on my shoulders as I jerked away, my shrill voice telling him to stop. To leave me alone.
He was gone. Major was gone. That pretty face and cocky grin wiped away. No. Nonononononono . . . . I chanted the words over and over as my heart shattered inside me. This wasn’t happening. Major wasn’t dead.
“Wake up!” I yelled, throwing back my head and squeezing my eyes tightly. I wanted to wake up.
Rush was telling me something. I heard him, but I couldn’t focus. I just saw Major crumple to the ground, over and over again in my mind. I felt the jolt of sorrow rock me in that moment.
“I need to wake up,” I told Rush frantically when Major remained dead in front of me.
“You’re not asleep, sweetheart. Come here.” Rush’s voice was gentle as he pulled me into his arms, and this time I went. Because I wasn’t sure I could keep myself together. I was falling into a million pieces, and I needed arms to hold me.
“Hes dead!” I wailed into his chest.
Rush didn’t respond. He just held me tighter. We sat like that for a while, and then Rush lifted me into his arms, and I let him. I didn’t look back at Major. I couldn’t see that again. I wanted to remember his beautiful face laughing. Making me forgive him with his charming ways that he knew would get him out of trouble.
“Keep her inside. This will be cleaned up and dealt with. I have backup coming.” Gannon . . . No, Cope. His name was Cope. He’d been working with Major. He hadn’t found me by chance. He hadn’t made love to me. He had used me. I was a tool. It made sense. Someone like Gannon had been too good for me. That man hadn’t been real. He’d been an act.
Rush didn’t respond to him. Sirens began wailing in the distance, and I buried my head deeper into my brother’s chest. My front yard was a crime scene. Darkness had fallen over my life in a way I’d never expected. Finding joy again wouldn’t be possible.
