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"Don't Liberty me, mister. You sound like an animal. All growly and stuff. Don't lie to me and tell me you're fine."
"Growly isn't a thing."
"It is so a thing."
"Liberty."
"Shane."
I drop into my car and pinch the bridge of my nose before starting the engine and reversing out of my driveway with my phone between my shoulder and my ear. I love my sister, I do, but right now, I don't have the patience. Normally, she would have me smiling and feeling nothing but a break in the normal manic way I worry about mapping out every minute of my day to avoid surprises. Fuck, I hate surprises. Until recently, there has never been another person who could calm the beast of control that drives me.
But, today, all I'm worried about is Nikki.
All I can think of is that she needs me.
All I want is to get her in my arms and let the feeling of her heartbeat against mine reassure me that she's okay.
All I feel is worry for her, and anger that she didn't fucking call me. How fucked up is that for all the talk I had about this not being more than our dangerous game?
"Je t'aime, petit ange," I tell her, working hard to keep my voice calm as I recite the phrase I've always used with her. I love you, little angel.
"I love you back. As far as I can see and then some. Even when you're being annoying and keeping something from me."
"I met someone," I confess, knowing deep down that I mean those words more than my sister could ever understand. "I met someone, and right now, she needs me. You caught me on the way out the door. Nothing's wrong; I'm just in a rush to get there."
"Is she okay?" she whispers, all that sass and fire doused.
I don't answer. How can I? I wasn't the one she called to her aid. "I don't know, Libby. I really don't know."
I picture my sister's face in my mind, needing something else to focus on other than the unknown I'm rushing to. She's the feminine version of me, so similar in looks that we could pass as twins. Dark hair, dark eyes, and strong features. However, she's delicate where I'm not. Petite to my much taller and bulkier build. When she worries, she frowns and looks like a mad Tinker Bell. When I worry, I break shit and look like a monster. Her whole face scrunches up with her concern in the most adorable way, and mine gets Hulk-like in rage. Control isn't the beast she took from our childhood--worry is.
"Look, Lib, I'll text you later, okay? Just let me
get over there, reassure myself that she's okay, and then take care of whatever is wrong. I'll call you tomorrow?"
"Okay, Shane, but I want to meet her," she responds, clearly not happy about the time I'm asking for her to give me.
"Give me until tomorrow and I'll make it happen, okay?" And fuck me, but that isn't a lie. I actually want them to meet. The two of them are going to get along like long-lost friends. Liberty is impossible not to love--unless you're a bitch like Lacey--and Nikki doesn't even have to try for people to want to spend more time with her. She's infectious and fool on anyone who thinks she can be kept at arm's length. Including me. The fact I want them to get to know each other--something I didn't allow Lacey the privilege of for almost a whole year of dating--hits me right in the center of my denial.
Fake, my ass.
"Don't just tell me that and think you can pretend you didn't later on. You always keep the girls in your life from me."
I gruff out a laugh past the burn in my throat. "What girls, Libs?"
"Okay, not girls as in plural. But when you were dating your last girlfriend, I didn't meet her for forever. I don't want to meet this one months or even years from now because you have some weird phobia about me getting attached."
"It wasn't that long," I pause, rolling to a stop at a red light and narrowing my eyes. "And I don't have a fucking phobia!"
"Shane, I mean it. I want to meet the woman whose got my big strong brother acting so out of character."
"Dammit, Liberty. I told you that you will. I promise. Is that good enough?" She doesn't say anything; her silence thick and I know she doesn't believe me. Funny thing is, any other girl and she wouldn't be wrong but not Nikki. I meant what I said; I want them to meet. Probably more than Liberty does. "She's different, Libs. Take it at that and let me go so I can get to her."
A girly-as-fuck squeal comes over the line, and I roll my eyes, thankful for the reprieve from my thoughts because I'm not ready to figure out why Nikki is changing all my carefully constructed rules and plans.
"I'll call you tomorrow," I tell her. We say our goodbyes, and she lets me off the phone without any more arguments.
Living less than ten minutes from her apartment complex, I pull in the second I disconnect the call from Liberty. All it takes is seeing Nate's truck parked like he rushed in for my breathing to start coming in shallow pants again. By the time I race up her steps two at a time, I feel like my skin is too tight. I see the same neighbor who always seems to be out here, glaring at me from his doorway the same way he always does when we find each other together on the landing. The fear I've had for Nikki since Nate's call, the inability to keep my composure, the anger that something could have hurt her ... all of it pours through me, and I can only imagine I look nothing short of savage as I hold his gaze. The seedy looking motherfucker down the hall startles before backing into his apartment and shutting the door quickly. There isn't a chance in hell I'll be able to calm down until I know she's okay, not with this much shit roaring through me. Fucking hopeless. That's what I feel like right now.
