Page 79 of Indigo Sky

“Yeah, it does. But, um … anyway, he left me the shop.”

That was startling. My shock must’ve been written on my face because Nate nodded solemnly.

“I know. I was surprised too. I thought he would’ve left the place to Donny, but …” He gestured as if to say,What can you do?“Anyway, I figured a business owner should look presentable, so I cleaned my shit up.”

So, it hadn’t been a girl, and it hadn’t been me cutting ties. It was Roy’s death that had given him a wake-up call.

“Well, you look good,” I complimented.

He nodded. “Thanks, man. You do too.”

The conversation lulled, and we awkwardly made our way over to the counter of the truck. We ordered our food—Nate insisted on paying—and then waited all of maybe two minutes while the man and woman inside quickly threw together our lunch.

"Here you go, guys," the man said, sliding the two cardboard cartons and paper cups of soda across the counter toward us. "Enjoy, all right?"

"Thanks, boss," Nate said, dropping a couple of one-dollar bills into the tip cup.

The gesture was unexpected, and I knew I’d roll it around my brain later. But right now, I was too busy following him back to the bed of his truck. He lowered the hatch and hoisted himself up to sit, patting the spot beside him.

Who the fuck is this guy?I thought as I hesitantly made myself comfortable.

Nate lifted one of the tacos from his container, the overload of lettuce and cheese sprinkling messily onto his lap, and he turned to me before taking a bite. "So, I started seeing someone."

My own messy grilled chicken taco was on its way to my mouth when I turned to study him curiously. "You told me you have a girl—"

"No, I mean, like, a, uh …" He tapped his temple. "A shrink."

I took a bite of the taco and, shit, if it wasn't one of the best tacos I'd ever had in my life. "Wow," I muttered, thinking aloud, holding it out to marvel at its deceptive messiness.

"They're bangin', right?" Nate grinned at me, his mouth full. "My girl turned me onto this place a few weeks ago, and I'm fuckin' addicted. I think I'm single-handedly keeping these guys in business."

"Shit." I was so overwhelmed by the burst of spicy heat and savory chicken that I almost forgot what Nate had just confessed to me. But after swallowing, I blew out a breath and took a sip of my Coke, ready to give him my full attention. "So, you're seeing a doctor, huh? How's that going?"

He put his taco back in the carton and put it aside on the truck bed. He scrubbed his palms over his face before pressing them to his thighs and exhaling.

"I, um … I dunno if you know this, but I had, uh … I had a lot of shit goin' on in my head."

It would've been wrong to laugh, so I didn't. But it didn't take a genius to know that Nate's mental state hadn't been the best in … fuck, maybe ever. Certainly not within the years that I’d known him.

"Yeah," I muttered empathetically, nodding.

He wouldn't look at me as he continued rubbing his palms against his thighs and said, "I've done a lot of fucked-up shit, man."

I was already aware of some of it. I could only imagine what I knew nothing about.

"My mom …" His gaze was on the parking lot, and his blinking sped up, like he was casting off tears he didn't want to cry. "She fuckin' hated me. I don't knowwhyshe hated me, but she fuckin' did."

I swallowed. "I'm sure she didn’t—"

"No." He held up his hand like he was about to karate-chop the air, cutting me off harshly. "I get that you can't understand what it's like for your mother to hate you, but my motherdid. She fucking said so on a daily fuckin' basis. Every damn day, I was reminded of what a waste of fuckin’ air I was. Every single fucking day, she reminded me of how much she didn’t want me. It was the only thing I knew. Do you even get what I'm saying? I didn't know how to beliked."

Suddenly, I felt sick, rattled. I had known about the bruises, about the broken arm, and every other visible injury Nate had worn in the past. But I guessed I'd just assumed that was where the abuse began and ended, as if that made anythingbetter. I’d had no idea there was more—how could I? Should I have just assumed? I was akid. He’d never told anyone … but, well … why would he have?

"What did she do to you?" I asked, unsure if I should. Unsure if he wanted me to. Unsure if he would answer, unsure if he evencould.

"Um …" Nate scratched behind his ear, scrubbed his palm over his mouth, and went back to rubbing his thigh vigorously, like he was trying to start a fire through his jeans. "She, uh … " He thrust his hand into the air with a huffed laugh. "Well, she beat the shit out of me, okay? I mean, for one. A-and when I was too big forherto do it, sh-she passed me off to Jim. And that wasworse‘cause every time, he would, uh … he, um …" He winced and swallowed. "H-he'd come to m-my room to … I dunno …apologizein his f-fucked-up way and—"

"Oh my God, Nate." I covered my face with my hand as my heart hammered loudly in my ears, above my weakened voice. Bile threatened to climb my throat and fill my mouth, souring every desire to eat for the rest of the day.

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