Nicholas Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 16) Page 5

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “Trades stocks. Quite good at it from what I hear. Which explains his clothes. The man can dress!”

  “You should know.”

  She swats my thigh, and goes back to the puzzle. “Trouble is that’s a job that can be done from anywhere. All you need is the Internet. If he worked at a coffee shop or something, you could walk in by accident and thank him!”

  I smile, “Just accidentally show up.”

  “Yeah!”

  “I’m not you.”

  “I don’t do that.” We lock eyes. “Okay, so I’ve done that. But I won’t again.”

  Chuckling I merge onto I-285. “You had to know you looked crazy.”

  She grumbles something I can’t make out. It wasn’t meant for me.

  It was for the girl she used to be when she was dating that creep who only gave her crumbs and slowly turned her mental until she was jumping through hoops to get his attention.

  So glad that phase is over.

  Nobody wants to live on crumbs. It’s why I walked out of that bedroom tonight with my pants still zipped.

  And nobody wants to see their friends scrambling for them, either. It’s painful.

  “You’ll see him at the next party, Maddie.”

  “Yeah, I really wanted to thank him, that’s all. I’m not trying to…well, you know. It was just unbelievably kind, what he did.” Under my breath I mutter, “Maybe we could be friends.”

  “Please, you want more than his friendship.”

  “I’m being realistic.”

  Her phone beeps. We both jump, thinking the exact same thing as she cries out, “Maybe he got my number from someone at the party!”

  “From Billy?”

  Denise chuckles, “Oh no, that boy has to fight for my digits. But maybe…”

  She digs her phone out and reads the text. Her smile vanishes.

  “What is it? Denise, what’s wrong?”

  She looks at me and a passing streetlamp illuminates tears gathering in her eyes. “My nana died.”

  CHAPTER 10

  N ICHOLAS

  O n the way home from the hospital where I was getting my lungs checked out—paramedics forced me to go—my mom calls me.

  “Hey Mom, anything wrong?”

  “Why would something be wrong?”

  “It’s after three in the morning…or at night.”

  “Oh, is it? Huh, yes, I guess it is.” She pauses. “Your father is sleeping so I’m being quiet. Nicholas, I had this terrible dream. Your face kept appearing. I woke up hot, drenched in sweat, but that might just be menopause, I don’t know. It comes and goes. But you’re okay? I had to call. It was very unsettling. It felt like when I lost my brother. I’m sorry I sound crazy. You’re okay though, right? No depression or anything that your father and I don’t know about?”

  “I was just at a party.”

  “Oh! Good!” She laughs with relief. “That sounds fun! See, I was worrying over nothing. Ever since Jeremy and I sold Burn, I’ve been feeling not quite myself. I think I retired too early.”

  I glance down at the mention of their old restaurant, at the burn on my hand, weighing if I should tell her. “Mom, there was a fire.”

  She’s silent, then whispers, “That was why I felt hot! I knew it, dammit, I knew it! Are you hurt?”

  “It was a candle that set a hanging towel on fire, or someone knocked it over in the bathroom and didn’t notice. We don’t know for sure. But I’m safe. I uh…went back to save a dog and things got pretty scary for a second. You felt hot, Mom?”

  “Yes!” she sighs.

  “Well, that’s because you are.”

  “Only you could make a joke at a time like this.”

  “Everyone’s okay, or I wouldn’t be able to. Have to laugh at the rough stuff.” Turning onto my street I feel heavy. Can’t wait to get in bed and sleep this off. “My friend Billy was pretty broken up about it.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “No, he’s a party friend. Throws them. It was his childhood home that burned. His folks moved to Florida. If you knew Billy, you’d know he doesn’t cry easily.”

  In the background I hear a stream of water pouring from the kitchen faucet. “Poor guy. Jeremy and I aren’t moving to fucking Florida, I can tell you that. Atlanta is home. And you kids will always have one, at whatever stage of life you’re in.”

  “Says the empty-nester,” I smirk. “You making tea? I heard water running.”

  “Might help me sleep again. Nicholas?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If something like this happens to you, please call and let me know. Don’t make me find out. I want to be first in line for the big things.”

  “But I’m okay—”

  “—Was the fire department called?”

  “Of course.”

  “And the police?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you run into a burning building?”

  I don’t answer this one right away, instead jumping out of the car and walking up to my apartment building, rubbing a deep frown. “Yeah, but it’s the middle of the night, Mom. You want me to wake you up? Come on…”

  “That’s a big thing! Yes, wake me! Apparently I’ll wake up anyway. But I’m proud of you, though. You saved the dog?”

  “I did. He left with a girl I met. The owners vanished.”

  “What?!”

  As I walk by ignored mailboxes I hear Dad’s groggy voice. “Who are you talking to, Meagan?”

  “It’s Nicholas. He was at a party that caught fire. He’s okay though.”

  “What?! Let me talk to him.” The sound of the phone quickly changing hands makes me prepare myself.

  Dad’s reaction to any of us in danger is never calm.

  “I’m okay, Dad.”

  “Jeremy, he’s safe. He was making me laugh just two seconds ago!”

  He ignores her, “What happened? I didn’t hear the phone ring. Are you at the hospital?”

  “I’ve just walked into my apartment. Totally intact.” The lights in my living room turn on by sensor. I turned off the voice commands. We grew up without that stuff and it’s annoying to have an object talk back to me. I’ll never get used to it.

  “Nicholas, are you burned? Are you telling us everything?”

  Setting down my keys I collapse on the long end of my sectional couch. “I saved a black lab tonight—told Mom that already. You would have loved him, Dad. He wasn’t as big as Aslan but he was close. Had to carry him out of the house when there was smoke everywhere. He didn’t fight me, can you believe that?”

  Impressed, my father’s voice calms. I can practically see him rubbing his face just like I’m doing, too. “Probably glad you came along when you did. Nice work. Everyone get out okay? Anyone hurt?”

  Glancing to my hand I lie, “No, nobody got hurt.” The burns are not bad. They gave me some ointment, so I’m not going to worry my family about this. “The woman who took the dog was pretty hot.”

  I can hear the smirk in his voice. “She was, huh?”

  “There was something about her that struck home if you know what I mean.”

  Dad laughs, “Below the belt home.”

  “Is there a better kind? You should have seen her ass.”

  “Round?”

  In the background I hear Mom ask, “What are you guys talking about?”

  “A fight,” Dad says, “Nicholas had to take down a guy in a couple rounds because he hit him below the belt.”

  “What an asshole!”

  “I know, right?” Back to me, Dad asks, “And then?”

  Grinning at his quick-thinking, I tell him, “She was smacking her ass, telling me how skinny women pay for it. I told her if she kept spanking herself, I would pay for it!”

  Dad cracks up. “You told her that?”

  “I did.”

  “Did she laugh, or hit you?”

  “I think she wanted to do both. And I would have let her.” Glancing to
the soot on my jeans I stand up and frown at the charcoal streaks I left behind. At least it was grey to begin with, but I’ll have to get this cleaned. Hate stuff like that.

  As I head for my kitchen I hear Mom ask him, “Who’s ‘she?’ I thought you were talking about a fight. You want tea?”

  “Do I ever want tea?”

  She laughs and the sound fades, letting me know she’s walking away.

  He lowers his voice, “You get her number?”

  “Didn’t think to until it was too late.” Frowning I drink an entire sixteen-ounce glass of water down. Dad waits for me.

  When I gasp for air, he demands, “How close were you to that fire, Nicholas?”

  “Not too close. The front of the house didn’t—”

  “—The way you drank that water!”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I inhaled a bunch of smoke. I didn’t know I was thirsty. That’s all.”

  Silence on the other end of the line. I can picture his eyes, same color as my own, darkening with anger at being helpless to protect us from every danger the world has to offer. I even see his fist tightening as he plants it on the kitchen counter. I’ve seen him do this a million times in my twenty-five years. As a kid of a man who suffered from PTSD, you notice the signs of his trying to control his emotions, his fear. You memorize them.

  Because you want to help.

  “Dad?”

  After a beat he grumbles, “I’m proud of you for saving the dog.”

  Raking my hand through my hair I frown at a photo of our family that smiles back from the fridge. “Thanks. I’m really tired. Gonna hit the sack. Night, Dad.”

  “You know I love you, right Nicholas?”

  Nodding to myself, I smile, “I love you too, Dad.”

  We hang up, and I take a few breaths before heading for the bathroom. “Holy shit,” I sputter at my reflection. My eyes are red, black smears around them when I was scratching like crazy. There are smears all over my clothes, too. My arms are a wreck. Stripping I blink at my chest, shiny from the oils, the sweat.

  As I climb into the shower, burns become impossible to ignore as hot water hits them. Wincing I swivel my naked body under the unforgiving stream. Wonder how the dog is feeling. “At least he’s in good hands,” I mutter while sliding soap around tender skin.

  Good hands.

  Fiery temper.

  Gorgeous ass.

  Kindness.

  Slammin’ combo in a woman.

  Dipping my head under the cascade I play back the ending of my night.

  Did you get her number?

  I wanted that phone number a little too much.

  CHAPTER 11

  N ICHOLAS

  A s she drove away I watched.

  With all of that chaotic action surrounding me—clouds of smoke billowing above our heads, Billy losing his shit, cops and firemen everywhere—there I was staring at disappearing taillights, wondering how I was going to see her again.

  I had the phone in my hands before I realized it, approaching cop after cop until I found the one who’d spoken with Madison. He was happy to give me the animal hospital’s name.

  As I dialed I fought the desire to tell a complete stranger to have another complete stranger give me a call. It wasn’t just awkward, it’s that I normally don’t give my number out to women. I learned the hard way that some will blow it up for months. If you don’t answer, they find you.

  I might fuck around a lot, but it’s never my intention to hurt anyone. And I’d made a habit out of keeping my digits to myself.

  The phone kind.

  My fingers I’ll offer up anytime.

  “Who’re you calling?” Matt asked.

  I motioned for him to wait a second as I heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “Sandy Springs Animal Hospital, Harriet speaking, how can I help you?”

  “Hey, uh, there’s a girl coming in with a burned Labrador. I want to pay the bill. She’s been through a lot tonight. The dog, too. House fire, and I want to help in any way I can.”

  She took down my information, and registered no recognition at my name. People usually react, since there are a few of us who have earned fame. “That’s very nice of you, Mr. Cocker. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I’ll be on the lookout for them.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  But as I tapped the phone against my ear, I struggled under the decision and opted not to do it.

  I didn’t believe Madison the type to go stalker on me.

  Not at all.

  I just met her but I already knew she’d never be that desperate. Hell, she turned me down for just a kiss because she’d seen me with…what was her name?

  No, I couldn’t picture Madison being anything but a ball buster who gave me the ride of my life.

  And that was the problem.

  There was something about her that had me by my balls, and I didn’t like that. It was a foreign feeling, one I wasn’t ready to look at more closely just yet.

  Rubbing my eyes I said a troubled, “Thanks. Have a good night,” and hung up.

  Matthew jogged his chin at the dwindling crowd, threw his arm around our inconsolable friend. “It’s gonna be okay, Billy.”

  “Didn’t know how much I loved that house until now, man. You think I can save my crock pot?”

  “If not, we’ll get you a new one. Your meatballs will prevail.”

  Fixated on the disaster he used to call home, Billy muttered, “I hope so.”

  Searching for something to make him feel better, I said, “You need to get back on the horse after this. And fast.”

  Billy looked unconvinced. “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. You can’t let this drag you down.”

  Matt agreed, “Nicholas is right! What you’ve gotta do is find a new locale, throw a party immediately! Just imagine how many people would come to that!”

  Billy blinked at the house, lips parted, cheeks stained. “I’m gonna do it!”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

  “I’m gonna do it!” he whispered, more to the house than to us.

  I tried not to admit it, but part of the reason I suggested him throwing another one was to see Madison. She’d get the invite, would have to show up after all that happened. Then we’d meet again in a natural environment. It would give me the opportunity of exploring what this interest was. See if it was just the extreme emotions of what we’d all been through that were playing tricks on my head.

  So as the paramedics came over and told me I had to get checked out, I didn’t fight hard. My spirits had lifted slightly. I’d see her at the next party.

  That’s what I kept telling myself as the image of her almost running into that fire to save a dog, kept flashing through my mind.

  That’s the kind of woman who sticks with a guy like me.

  As I dried off, I said it again for the millionth time in two hours, locking eyes with my own reflection.

  “No big deal. Let it go.”

  Yeah, sure, tell my dreams that.

  CHAPTER 12

  M ADISON

  F rom the passenger seat of Denise’s Nissan I watch the other lanes on I-85 heading toward Virginia, and catch random glimpses of strangers drifting by. Those faces are going places I’ll never know about.

  Their lives, what are they like?

  Do they have people they care about so much that it hurts to think of them gone, like Nana is?

  Jobs, pets, kids, parents, troubles, joys, and everyone they touch is touched by someone else.

  That smiling woman bouncing to her music, did she just decide to go after her dreams?

  The man in the suit with his tie undone, smoking out the window, did he forget about his?

  “It’s like this incredible spider web is woven every second of every day, and we aren’t even aware of it.”

  Denise glances over with a blank, “What?”

  “All of the people on the planet.” Holding he
r eyes before they flicker back to the freeway, I explain, “Right now there are people in England, Canada, Australia, South Africa, South America, Spain…”

  “I get it…”

  “France, Macedonia, Italy, Greece, Canada…”

  “You already said Canada.”

  “Turkey, Iceland, Russia, Denmark, Romania…”

  “Maddie.”

  “Just think, right now, people in all those countries—and that’s not even all the countries out there!—they’re walking around in their own lives, like we walk around in ours. Getting up every morning, doing their thing, going to sleep. So many hearts beating for different reasons, different dreams and goals. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “Have you been smoking pot?”

  Laughing I reach back to pet Bucky. “His eyes are clear today. I think he’s getting used to me.”

  “Dogs bounce back pretty well. You should call them again.”

  “I called four times. It’s in their court now.”

  Flicking a glance to the backseat, she grumbles, “And they call you the animal, Bucky.” Wagging her purple fingernail she announces, “All those people in the world you’re talking about? Not all of them are good.”

  “That would be boring.”

  “You should have left them a nasty voicemail.”

  “There’s enough negativity floating around.” Staring out my window I add, a little quieter, “Maybe he was supposed to be with me.”

  “If they do call, do not give him back!”

  “Denise, can you imagine if life was just euphoria all the time? People walking around in bliss twenty-four-seven?”

  We’re silent as we picture it. I glance over to her, and she meets my eyes to say, “Nothing would get done.”

  On a smile I agree, “Kleenex would go out of business. No need for crying.”

  Her expression saddens as she fixes her gaze back on the road ahead. “When a loved one died, you wouldn’t feel the loss, and that’s not right. I wouldn’t want that.”

  I run my hand down her soft arm. “How are you feeling?”

  “Peachy,” she mutters on a deep exhale. “This funeral is going to be one hot mess.”