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“Nash?” interjected Hank, his mouth full of food as he sank into an empty chair across from the men of Vollucci Security. Lifting a fist to shield the contents of his hurriedly consumedlunch, he explained, “If you’re from around here, it wouldn’t be weird if you recognized him. He lives in Texas now, but he’s from here. Grew up in Murfreesboro. Started his bluegrass career in the bar we’ll be shooting at in a couple days.”
Hank barely got the words out before he was swallowing his bite and shoving another into his mouth. He then looked at his watch, shook his head, and got up from the table, presumably to get back to work. As he departed, Lawson’s gaze darted back toward Nash.
Creed Nash.
Recognition clicked this time, and Lawson’s appetite vanished.
He’d never met the man. Five years ago, he’d done everything he could to forget his name; forget what he’d done, who he’d touched, what he’d ruined.
It was Justice who broke the news. The year before, Nora-Jean had left him while he was deployed. That year had been the longest and toughest twelve months he’d ever endured, war and heartache his constant companions. When he came back state side, his mind had been made up. He was going to finish his contract with the Marines and then get out. He was going to make a life with the only woman he’d ever loved.
He was going to be available.
He was going to behome.
He was going to be hers.
Then he found out the love of his life was pregnant with another man’s child. The betrayal which came with the news was almost more than he could bear.
He knew it was unfair to be so angry with her. She hadn’t cheated. They hadn’t been in contact for months. She’d moved on; but it was the realization she had it in her to move on at all that hurt the most.
When Lawson was fully read in on the situation, when he found out she was pregnant by a man so cowardly and so selfish, it made him more upset and unreasonable, not less. She was alone, on the verge of facing motherhood for the first time, but all he could think about when he saw her wasCreed-fucking-Nash.It was hard enough to learn she’d moved on. It was far worse to know how low she’d stooped in order to do so.
Creed Nash was why Lawson spent another two years as an active-duty Marine. He let the desert and the war in Afghanistan scrub the bastard’s name from his memory. Now that they were in the same room with one another, Lawson understood the coward’s name hadn’t been scrubbed from his mind. It was etched there—covered in the dust and debris he spent years collecting over it.
No longer hungry and too agitated to sit idly in such close proximity with Nash, Lawson got up, plate in hand, and told Moretti, “I’m going to do a lap around the perimeter. Stretch my legs.”
“You barely touched your food,” his boss replied, a slight frown tugging at his brow. “We’ve got at least another seven hours on duty.”
“Not hungry. I’ll be fine.”
He took his leave before Moretti could say another word about it.
It was just as dark when Moretti and Lawson climbed into the truck and started for Shelbyville as it had been that morning when their workday began. Fast as the first half of the day had seemed, the afternoon dragged, time weighed down by Lawson’s awareness of Nash. The thought of being in the man’s company for the next couple of weeks was so irritating, he sought to do something about it.
“I don’t know what the schedule looks like for any of your other guys—but what are the chances I could be reassigned to a different job?”
Moretti glanced his direction and then focused his attention back out onto the road. “Been on the payroll six months, you’ve never asked to be reassigned.”
“Hopin’ that improves my chances,” shot back Lawson.
“What I meant is it’s an unusual request. Why are you asking?”
Lawson hesitated a moment. He raked his fingers through his long hair and stifled a sigh, wondering if it was worth providing details. Deciding it was, he summed it up by saying, “Creed Nash. He’s a scumbag and I’d rather avoid the guy.”
Now it was Moretti’s turn to hesitate. It was obvious he was trying to connect the dots in his silence. When he fell short, he shook his head and replied, “You’re going to have to do better than that. Nash isn’t the job—we’re set security. Pretty sure you could get away with doing the jobandavoiding him just fine.”
“He got a woman pregnant a few years back. Someone I knew. He found out and left her to shoulder the responsibility alone before she even started showin’. And the so-calledcareerhe’s got was started with songs he stole. He left and he never looked back.”
“Wow. You’re right. The guy’s a scumbag,” Moretti began. “Never heard you mention any nieces or nephews, so I’m guessing this woman wasn’t your sister.”
“No. But that doesn’t change the facts of the story.”
“Who was she?”
“Doesn’t matter,” muttered Lawson.
Moretti paused a beat. “I don’t need to tell you Vollucci Security is still a fairly small outfit. I can’t just reassign you. Fact that you’re asking me to means itdoesmatter. Who was she to you?”
