Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(92)

“Wow. Fancy,” Becky murmured as Ali set the antique silver service on the table between them.

She smiled sadly. For such a small, feminine looking woman, Rebecca Reichert was amazingly tough. More times than she could count in the last six weeks, she’d wished for just a drop of Becky’s pluck.

As she poured their tea, she wondered how best to pose her next question without sounding pathetic.

Ah, screw it.

“How is he?” she blurted.

“Who?” Becky asked around a ladyfinger. “Ghost? He’s horrible. It’s bad enough he had to…” she made a rolling motion with what was left of the ladyfinger. “Well, you know what he had to do. But then for you to blame him—”

“But I didn’t,” she defended herself. “I didn’t blame him or judge him for Grigg’s death. Give me a little credit. I know he…” God, it was almost too awful to voice the words, she couldn’t imagine the horror of the actual act. Frank had given her the file on the whole, terrible incident, telling her she deserved to finally know it all.

She’d read the horrific thing while sitting beside the toilet on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor. Immediately afterward, she’d burned it and then dumped the ashes down the garbage disposal. As if flushing it away could somehow make the abominable words never exist in the first place. But she still saw them occasionally when she closed her eyes…

She choked as one particular sentence flashed through her aching head before she had the opportunity to slam her mental door.

She refused to break down again. It seemed that was all she did lately.

“I know he did it because there was no other way. His courage that day was a gift to my brother,” she whispered, swallowing convulsively as she glanced down at the murky liquid of her tea and squeezed her eyes closed.

Oh, Nate.

“I tried calling him before leaving Washington,” she whispered. “I tried calling him every day for a week afterward. But he wouldn’t answer.”

“Yeah.” Becky nodded. “We all tried calling. I think, being the big, stupid dill-hole that he is, he went into some sort of self-enforced exile. He’s back now, though. You should go to him.”

If only it were that easy.

“He doesn’t want me.”

“Say what?” Becky’s expression called her an idiot.

“I can’t stand his rejection again,” she choked. “Not when I need him so much.”

“Back up,” Becky held up a hand. “You can’t stand his rejection again? What are you talking about? When did Ghost reject you?”

Ali felt a faint flush warm her cheeks. She so didn’t want to go there with Becky, but she knew the woman wasn’t leaving until she received a satisfactory explanation. “When we were at that motel we…we, uh…we sort of…”

“Made love?” Becky prompted impatiently.

“Yeah.” It’d certainly been love, at least on her part. “After we made love, he made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in anything more than that one night.”

Crap. A single tear escaped to trickle down her cheek. She lifted a shaking hand to wipe it away, praying it was an aberration, praying the dam behind which she was holding the overwhelming burden of her heartache wasn’t about to break.

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Oh now we’re going to get personal?” she almost laughed, glad for the distraction.

Becky rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I only want to know one thing.”

Ali swallowed and nodded. “What’s that?”

“Do you love him?”

Only with her whole stupid, broken heart. “Yeah,” she breathed, admitting it aloud for the very first time.

“Well then, sista, just what the hell are you waiting for?” Becky slapped a palm down on the table and the silver tea service jumped. “Go and get him.”

“But…but weren’t you listening to a word I just said? He doesn’t want me!” she sputtered, baffled the woman would even suggest it. “He made that obvious at the motel and more than obvious when he refused to take my calls!”

“Bah!” Becky waved a dismissive hand through the air. “He was just avoiding you because he thought he couldn’t have you. You know,” she rolled her eyes in the face of Ali’s bewilderment, “because he figured you’d never forgive him for the whole thing with Grigg.”

“But in th-the Oval Office he—”

“I know how it all went down,” Becky interrupted her. “He ghosted on you. But what did you expect? He didn’t want to face your hatred and blame when he already blames and hates himself enough for the both of you.”

Was it possible?

“Did he tell you that?” she asked hopefully, her heart lodged in her throat.

“Are you kidding?” Becky’s face was plastered with incredulity. “Ghost doesn’t talk to anyone, but that’s beside the point. I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. He wants you, plain and simple, even if he doesn’t know it. Men so rarely know what they want…or what’s good for them, for that matter. Comes from having their heads shoved so far up their asses,” she said in all seriousness. “The real question is do you want him? And are you ready to make the sacrifices necessary to have him?”