Page 110 of Shattering Nash

Noelle cleared her throat. “I understand, and I’d like to apologize…”

“No,” Oz snapped, hardened his gaze, and stood. “We’re beyond apologies.”

As soon as he walked away, Nash moved to Charley, who met him halfway across the balcony. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. This wasn’t over. Not for them. But she was safe. Probably the safest she’d ever beenin her life. Charley was now under the protection of the entire Underground.Untouchable.

“Can you take me home?” she whispered.

“Yes.” Nash didn’t slow his steps, making his way to the elevators.

His home. It was exactly where he’d take her, and where she’d stay.

“Nash?”

Oh, fuck no.He wouldn’t entertain anything Noelle had to say. When he felt her hand on his arm, he yanked away from her touch and turned, sending a seething scowl.

She held up her hands. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”

To quote Oz,we’re beyond apologies. There was nothing she could say or do that would ever put her in his good graces.

“The irony. Your compassion got you exiled, initially. This time your lack of compassion could’ve gottenherkilled.” He looked over at Trey, who was watching their exchange. “You might want to reevaluate Dahlia’s protective duty. It seems Noelle picks and chooses who she keeps safe.”

When the doors opened, he walked Charley into the elevator.

And never looked back.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Charley couldn’t wrap her head around everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. Her life had gone from almost twenty-nine years of boring to a non-stop rollercoaster ride.I want off!And finally, she’d gotten her wish.

Nash had done as she asked and brought her home.His home.It wasn’t what she’d had in mind with her request. She thought he’d bring her back to the apartment. But Charley had no complaints as long as they were together. Her exhaustion kicked in halfway into the drive, and she fell asleep in the car. She had a brief recollection of Nash carrying her up to the bed, changing her into a T-shirt, and tucking her into bed. The second she heard the door latch click in place, her eyes shot open.

It was the worst time to take a power nap. Her body needed the rest, and she should’ve been sleeping for days. Instead, she lay in bed, thoughts running wild in her mind. She was completely wired. Charley got out of bed and left the room, walking down the steps and searching for Nash. The main living space was an open floor plan with the kitchen, living room, and dining area. Just off the stairs was a small hall leading to a half bathroom and another door. It had always been closed every time she’d been at his place. Tonight, it was cracked open.

She slowly pushed the door open. She hadn’t realized he’d had a home office. It was smaller than the one at the club but shared the same décor, including a couch on one of the walls. The clinking of glass had her veering her gaze to him standing in the corner of the office and the small rolling bar cart. He was making himself a drink. A clear colored liquid. Vodka?

“Can’t sleep?” Nash hadn’t even turned around, but it was as if he’d sensed her.

“No.” She eyed the liquor. “Can I have one of those?”

His hand stilled over the bottle. She expected an array of questions. A few seconds later, Nash grabbed a clean glass, poured a hefty amount, and capped the bottle. He walked over to the seating area a few feet from his desk. He sat and put her glass on the table. Unlike her, he was the epitome of calm. How did he do that?

Charley was tempted to take the seat next to him on the couch. It’s where she wanted to be.But is it where I’m supposed to be?If this night proved anything, it was that Charley had no idea of her surroundings. She needed answers. She moved to the chair across from Nash and separated by a small coffee table.

It was a bold move on her end. Or so she thought. His lips twitched as he eyed her. She grabbed the glass, taking a sip. She fought against the burn in her throat and pressed her lips together, feigning indifference.

“Would you like something else?” Nash asked.

She cleared her throat in hopes her voice didn’t crack. “I can handle vodka.”

“It’s Scotch.”

And God, it’s awful.Why on earth would anyone drink this willingly?

“If sipped slowly, it’ll warm your belly and settle your nerves.”

Charley snorted. “Then maybe you should bring over the bottle if you’re hoping for that outcome.”

Nash brought the glass to his lips, a small smile peeking from beyond the glass as he stared at her over the rim.

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