Page 83 of Fire

I blink, wave off the waiter as he returns with the drink Nathan requested—it’s past time to cut him off—and turn on my drunk translator.

“She was cheating,” Nathan slurs again. “I suspected for a while now but when I confronted her…” He sucks in his lips. “It wasn’t just one guy. There’s a whole fuckin’ crew of us.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It gets better.” He hiccups while I decipher his words. “She doesn’t even have a job. She says she has a job, but when she leaves for ‘work,’ she’s visiting another one of her many, many men. She just uses us all for money. Like, she moved in with me so I would send her girls to private school. This other guy, he bought her all her clothes. She’s a…” He shakes his head, trailing off, presumably chasing down a word I’m not sure he’ll find.

And here Ivy’s been afraid she was taking advantage of me.

“She’s a parasite,” I supply, jogging Nathan back from wherever he went.

He blinks once, twice, a third time and still can’t focus. “And I fell for it. I thought she just needed someone to help her get on the right track. She wasn’t the best person—”

“You can say that again.”

“But I thought it was because she didn’t know any better. That if I could show her a better way to live, you know, be the example, be the good I want to see in the world, I could help her and those girls. Turns out I’m just a fucking chump.”

“You deserve better. The next time—”

Nathan laughs and it’s bitter and dark and cold. He’s not a Doberman anymore, he’s a fucking wolf with his hackles up. “There won’t be a next time. I’m fucking done. Done with women. Done with being a nice guy that gets taken for granted. And I’m done talking about it. What happened with Ivy?”

That’s the question, isn’t it? What happened with Ivy?

I spin my beer bottle between my hands. “I don’t even know, Nator…” I trail off as he glares. “Nathan,” I correct, apologizing before continuing, “Her mom called and told her she’s treating me just like she did that asshole she was engaged to. That she’s taking advantage of me and—”

“Fuck, man.” Nathan’s face crumbles and he frowns so deeply he looks like a cartoon. “You got Blossomed too.”

I didn’t. I know that for a fact. Ivy and Blossom are two different creatures. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

But he’s already tried and convicted her. “She moved in. Let you pay for her shit. Let you take care of her kid—”

“My kid.”

“Are you sure?” He arches a brow and I brace myself against the table as my jaw tightens.

“I’m gonna assume that’s the liquor talking and let that slide.”

Nathan holds up his hands. “Right. Sorry. Nell’s yours. There’s no fuckin’ doubt about that, even if there’s doubt about Ivy.”

“But there isn’t.” The answer is so reflexive, so right there on the tip of my tongue, it has to be true. I don’t doubt her.

However, judging by the confusion on Nathan’s face, he has no clue what I’m talking about. “Isn’t what?”

“There isn’t any doubt about Ivy.”

He drags his hands down his face. “Either I’m too drunk for this conversation or you’re talking circles. You just said her own mother says she uses men. Shit Mi, she was still engaged when she moved in with you.”

On paper it looks bad. I know that. But the details matter. They shift the story from whatever spectrum of shitfuckery Blossom is on, to the trouble Ivy’s been trying to dig herself out of since she moved back to the Keys. “She was in the middle of breaking it off.”

“So she says.” Nathan scoffs and I’m running out of patience for him being drunk and stupid.

“What the hell are you getting at?”

“I don’t know, man. It just seems like you can’t trust anyone nowadays.” He picks up his glass, frowns when he notices it’s empty, then puts it back down. “D’you know how many people apply to the foundation even though they have more than enough resources to take care of their kids? They’re just looking for some easy money. There are so many fuckin’ scammers out there…”

“Not Ivy.”

“How can you be sure?” He’s so fucking down about the Blossom thing that he doesn’t notice I’m reaching the edge of my patience when it comes to shit-talking the woman I love.

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