Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(11)

“Shit, yeah. Handful.”

“I like kids. And they’re good ones.”

Nash slowed the car at an intersection and waited for me to direct.

I pointed to his left, and he made the turn.

His eyes flickered in my direction. “So, you’re staying with the fiancé then? Husband?”

“Boyfriend.”

“How come he’s not your fiancé?”

“He hasn’t asked.”

“How come you haven’t asked him?”

I twisted to watch him drive, grateful for the conversation, because right now, anything was a good distraction from everything I’d seen tonight. “I don’t know. I mean, I do. We’ve only been together a year. It’s too soon.”

“Or you don’t love him.”

I frowned at the certainty in his voice. “What?”

He shrugged. “When you know, you know. Time doesn’t make a difference.”

I sat back in my seat, my cheeks heating. “That’s not true. People need time to get to know each other before they leap into a commitment.”

“If you say so.”

That felt decidedly like a brush-off, and any other time I might have argued some more. But we were already on Caleb’s street, and I didn’t have it in me. “You can just park in the driveway. It’s that one over there on the left.”

Nash let out a low whistle. “Does he rob banks for a living?”

“More like runs them.”

“Fuck me.”

I bit my lip. “Thanks for driving me home.”

“Wasn’t gonna let you drive yourself. You were trembling like a leaf.”

I held a hand up. The tremor was still visible, so I tucked it beneath my thighs. “Do you have any idea who did this?”

Nash let out a long sigh. “Nothing concrete. But, Bliss, there’s probably a lot of things you don’t know about your brother. Hell, there’s a lot of things I don’t know about him. Clearly. If he knew he was in this sort of trouble, he didn’t tell me.” He looked at the clock. “It’s really late. Or early, I guess. Your man in there is probably frantic with worry over you.”

I doubted that. I stared up at the big house and the window to Caleb’s bedroom. It was dark, like the rest of them.

Caleb wasn’t waiting up for me. My phone hadn’t rung once in the hours I’d been gone. He’d either gone to bed or was still out partying with his work colleagues.

I didn’t want to tell Nash that. He’d already hit the mark a little too closely with his accusation that Caleb and I weren’t in love. “I should go,” I agreed. “I don’t want him worrying.”

We both got out of the car, and Nash tossed me the keys. I caught them easily, tucking them into my purse.

He raised a hand in farewell from the other side of the car. “Good to see you, Bliss. I know that’s a fucked-up thing to say, considering…”

I didn’t insist he use my legal name. Nobody had used that nickname in a long time, and I liked the way it sounded on his lips. At least I did now that I wasn’t angry with him. He was right about the timing though. “There’ll need to be a funeral. My mother…”

Nash shook his head. “It’ll take time for the police to release his body. But I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to see her.”

I nodded, knowing he would. Nash had never gone back on his word. And instinctively, I knew that some things didn’t change. He walked backward down the street for a few steps, watching me, until the darkness closed in around him and his footsteps drifted away.

It was only as I was halfway up the stairs to Caleb’s bedroom that I realized I was still wearing Nash’s shirt. Without thinking about it, I pulled it across my nose, inhaling his scent one last time.

The overhead light flickered on, and a rumpled Caleb stood at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

I dropped the shirt, but not quick enough.

Caleb’s gaze narrowed in on the movement, his shrewd eyes taking in the unfamiliar piece of clothing. “What are you wearing? And where the hell have you been all night?’

He needed to know. “My brother…”

Caleb squinted. “Everett?”

“I have another brother. An older one.”

Caleb bit out a harsh laugh. “Do you seriously expect me to believe that? You come tramping in here in the middle of the night, reeking of another man, wearing his clothes, and you expect me to believe he’s your brother?”

He moved slowly down the stairs, but I almost wished he’d run. There was a sinister air to his movements. They were almost snake-like, stalking me, ready to strike.

I didn’t dare back away from him.

He stopped in front of me and gripped the shirt, yanking it from my shoulder. “Get it off.”

His closeness forced me back. “I am. I’m on my way to the bathroom to take a shower right now. You can go back to bed. I’ll be in soon.”

He moved in again. “Take it off now. You fucking reek of him.”

I opened my mouth to explain again, but the back of his hand cracked across my face.

My head whipped to the side as the stinging pain speared through my cheek, and tears filled my eyes. I cupped my hand over the place he’d hit me and stared up at him, too shocked to speak.