Page 53 of Nailed

“I was desperate. I was so eager to just find a home somewhere and that was my chance to prove myself. They told me all I had to do was keep watch, I wouldn’t have to actually take anything. They swore they wouldn’t hurt anyone and I was young and dumb enough to believe them. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did.” My heart ached as I watched Rafe’s face. I could see that nineteen year-old kid lost and directionless, realizing that he’d been played by the only family he thought he had.

I longed to reach out and hold him, just to ease that pain. But I knew better.

“The condition of my early release was that I snitched.” He looked torn, like he still struggled with what he did even though it was the morally right thing to do. Knowing a little more about the situation, I could see the conflict.

He had a code of loyalty. It was oddly similar to Brock’s, which might be one reason why they butted heads as often as they did.

“The detective offered me the chance to expunge my record if I turned over evidence that implicated Nick and the rest of them. I thought that was the end of it but…” his words choked off. Those eyes found mine. “They got me. They know where I work now and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”

The ache I felt in my chest earlier sharpened.

He looked at me now with the same terror I’d regarded him with over the last few days. I knew that he was probably scared for his own safety, obviously. But there was an element of fear for someone else.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, wanted to tell him that I was willing to help him get through this but the words evaded me. Callum looked wholly shocked, clearly not expecting Rafe’s admission.

“The day’s over.” Brock’s now placid voice pierced the heavy atmosphere. He moved to get his things from the nearby worktable. But even though his voice was calm, it was almost for the worse. His entire body vibrated with silent fury—I saw it in every movement. As he passed Rafe, he stopped in his tracks and glared at him. “I could and probably should beat the hell out of you for bringing this shit to Miss Wolfhaardt’s doorstep. But you made this mess, so it’s on you to fix it. Call your parole officer and tell him what’s going on.”

With that, Brock stalked right out the door.

“Hey, wait,” I called after him but he didn’t even turn around. Rafe hung back just long enough to make sure Brock would be gone before leaving as well. I tried to stop him too but he was even more stubborn than Brock.

“Jackasses,” I mumbled to myself. Callum cleared his throat. “Not you,” I emphasized.

He gave me a small, sad smile of understanding and put his hand on my shoulder. “They’re adults, Miss Lauren. They need to figure this out on their own. We should probably all just sleep on it.”

“You’re not staying?” I asked.

I hated how pathetic I sounded to my own ears. I hated how I’d gotten used to finding comfort and security in all of them through different ways, but especially with Callum, and I hated how I needed him now.

But he shook his head.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said softly.

I knew what he meant and I knew that it was logical. Everything was so fragile right now that him spending the night with me would only make it worse. And that was the last thing any one of us needed. That aside, I couldn’t even imagine how he was feeling.

They were his friends, at least Brock was. Even just on a professional level, it must’ve been stressful in its own right to have to worry about the dynamics of his team. I wanted to ask him how he felt about everything but he didn’t look as though he wanted to talk. I hoped he knew that I wasn’t just eager to have him here because of what we’d started doing together.

It wasn’t just about sex. It was about more than that and somehow that felt even worse.

“Okay,” I said, my voice even softer.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then headed out himself.

Just like that, everything was turned upside down. The months we’d spent together feeling almost like a family now seemed stuck in limbo. The easy contentment that had saturated my house was now sucked dry, and not even the good news from the photo shoot was able to distract me from the hollow pit in my stomach.

My body slumped in defeat and I dragged myself up the stairs for a much-needed hot shower.

*

I’d stepped out of my steamed-up bathroom, still dripping wet when a loud series of bangs at my door almost stopped my heart. I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around myself, getting ready to call the cops if need be.

It was late and I wasn’t expecting anyone. The knowledge of Rafe’s past "acquaintances" knowing where I lived was still a constant in my mind, though I did feel safer with those new locks installed. I wasn’t going to take any chances.

But then I heard his voice. He was right when he made the assessment a few months back. This place carried acoustics well.

I didn’t bother getting dressed first, not when he sounded so eager to get in, yelling my name. And my first name, at that.

I walked downstairs, water droplets dotting my path on the way and a heart beating out of control.