Page 38 of Lock Me Out

“I’m not embarrassed,” I insist. Okay, I am a little bit. But there’s so much more than that. I can’t find the words.

“Hey. It’s understandable if you have a lot of shit you need to process.” When he approaches me, I take a backward step without thinking about it. Pain touches his eyes, stopping him in his tracks.

“There’s something I need you to understand.” Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m saying this for me or for him. All I know is that it needs to be said. “Don’t get this twisted. What happened just now doesn’t erase everything else. Neither does you rescuing me. I’m grateful,” I add, because I’m not completely heartless.

The old Nix would’ve laughed that off, I think. He at least would have pretended to think it was funny for me to act like I have any say in my own life. But he’s changed, and not just physically. Nodding, he replies, “I’m not asking for your gratitude. I did it for you, but I did it for me, too. And for Colt.”

“Anyway, there’s still too much unresolved.” Wow, I’m really doing well with this, aren’t I? I can’t find the words to express what’s swirling around in my head and heart. “I can’t just forgive you out of nowhere. The good things you’ve done… they don’t outweigh the other things.”

Every part of me wants to shut down, to run away from what I’ve just started. Every word, every heartbeat that accompanies them, brings up another ugly memory of being powerless, used by James and his sons like I wasn’t even human.

And no matter how good things were back in the bedroom, no matter what Nix did to save me last night, I can’t forget the gleethat was on his face more than once. How happy he was to use me, whether he was forced to or not. He might have felt like he had no choice, but he didn’t have to like it as much as he did.

And then there’s what he did to me in the alley. Nobody was forcing him then. “You hurt me—here, I wave my hand indicating the apartment, and in that alley. I’m not just going to let that go. You don’t get off that easy.”

At least he’s decent enough not to argue. He doesn’t make a big deal about blaming himself, either. If anything, it would be worse to have him beat himself up just to play on my sympathy. He’s done a lot of things I can’t agree with, things I’ve hated him for, but he’s not manipulative like that.

Not that it makes him a good person or even someone I should be sharing this apartment with. At the same time, I can’t deny how good it felt to be with him and Colt together. Feeling pleasure without hating myself for it.

I’ve never stood a chance against these two. There is something about them that will always mix me up inside and make me question who I really am. What is this power they have over me?

“I understand. I’ll keep my distance if you need it,” he offers. “But Colt is probably going to have other opinions about that. He wants me to stay.”

This is all so overwhelming and much too confusing. “I think it would be for the best if you did stay here,” I admit, because it’s the truth, even if it makes things complicated. “It’ll make him a lot happier, and it will be a relief to know you’re safe. But that’s as far as it goes,” I remind him. It’s not easy to stand up for myself like this, but it’s something I want to get better at. “It’s going to take time to trust you after everything.”

His shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath before he nods again. “I get it, and I respect it. Thanks for being honest with me—I never could stand a passive-aggressive girl.”

Taking one last look at his scarred face, I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling chilly. “I’m going to get in the shower now.” Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take at once. How am I supposed to look into the face of the person who killed my mom and tell him I want him to be part of my life?

At the same time, how am I supposed to feel otherwise? Because he is part of my life—a messed-up, twisted, complicated part—but I can’t deny our connection, just like I can’t deny wanting Colt to be happy. That means being with his brother.

And for me, being happy means being with Colt.

Will I ever win?

18

NIX

One thing is obvious:she is not the girl she used to be. She found her voice, finally. I won’t flatter myself by thinking I had anything to do with that, like I toughened her up or anything. There was always toughness inside her, and it used to piss me off when I couldn’t make her bend to my will.

That strength isn’t just on the inside anymore. She’s letting it out, finding her voice. Between that and the way she expertly handled both of us in the bedroom, I have to say I like what I’m seeing.

So, it’s a shame she has mixed feelings about me. But what did I expect? What, was she supposed to forget everything all at once? I just confirmed I killed her mom. That’s the kind of thing I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up to her.

But I understand now, knowing there’s a wedge between us, that I would do whatever it takes to earn her trust. How can I make her understand I wasn’t thinking about her when I did it? Do I even want to try? Because that’s kind of shitty, too. Why don’t I just come right out and admit I’ve made huge, deadly decisionswithout considering the consequences? I don’t think that’s going to earn me any points.

There’s one thing I can do while standing around, feeling like an asshole. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good cup of coffee—it doesn’t look like the coffee maker gets a lot of use around here, but the coffee itself isn’t some cheap-ass brand, so I’m glad to brew some. By the time Colt joins me in the kitchen, the aroma fills the air.

“That smells good. Leni’s in the shower, but you can go wash up as soon as she’s finished,” he offers, raking his fingers through his wet hair.

Is it wrong that I don’t want to? I like having her scent on me even more than I like smelling the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Of course, I doubt her boyfriend would like hearing something like that, so I keep my thoughts to myself. “Sounds good. Are we… okay, after what just happened?”

At first, it looks like he doesn’t want to answer, and that can’t be a good sign. I can see him being into it in the moment. When most of your blood is in your cock, you can’t do a lot of thinking. But he probably feels differently now.

He glances down the hall toward the bathroom where Leni is showering, then shakes his head. “Later.”

So, it’s going to be a complicated conversation. Now I wish I hadn’t asked.

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