Page 40 of Covert
I shut the fridge to find Nikki standing there, watching me with a look on her face I can't identify.
"You know how to cook?" she asks, seemingly curious.
"Yep." When I got out of jail and got the job with Axel and Maddox, none of us really knew how to cook. We'd grown up together, but they didn't really have to take a chance on me. I was a convicted felon. So, I wanted to be able to give back and make myself useful. I would get cookbooks from the library and practice… and practice until I got pretty good. I still find the act of cooking settling and peaceful.
"Can you teach me?" she asks, and I remember how bare her cabinets were in her apartment. I don't think I saw any actual food, just packets of ramen and energy bars.
"You never learned?"
She shakes her head and bites her lip, I'm sure, considering how much she wants to tell me.
"I left home at fifteen, and don't really have access to the internet..." she trails off. I won't push her. Talking about her past at all is challenging for her.
"Sure," I reply. I set her up with a cutting board and knife and show her how to hold and cut the carrots without hurting herself.
I peek at her from the corner of my eye and can't help the smile that tugs across my lips at the way she's got her tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration. I worry about her slipping up andaccidentally cutting herself. I'd never forgive myself if she got hurt. But she's good.
I continue browning the beef, and when she's done with the carrot, I set her up with the onion. It's nice working alongside her. I explain the different types of cuts with the onion and what they're called. I explain how I drain off the liquid that's sweated out of the beef. She's careful not to touch me as she moves around me to watch, and the thoughtfulness and care fill my chest with warmth.
I imagine us doing this every night. I imagine her running her hands across my shoulders. I imagine standing behind her while she stirs. The images pull at my chest. I want them so badly. They demand I become a better man for her so that we can do this every night.
And when we sit down to eat, she closes her eyes and moans after the first bite, I decide to get better for her.
Chapter twenty
Maddox
Today is shit. I woke up in a terrible mood, and not even Nikki's sweet presence at breakfast and on the ride to the shop made me feel any better. Maybe it's because she rode with Axel today. Whatever. I'm not a needy bitch.
So, when my phone rings and I see Officer Johnson's name on my phone, my stomach drops. Maybe my bad mood was a premonition. I leave my client without a word, snap off my sweat gloves, and stomp out the back door.
"What?" I bark into the phone, a mix of terror and fury. My insides vibrate with anxious tension, and I just need to know.
"No updates."
My shoulders sag in relief, but the anger doesn't leave me, just the fear.
"What fucking use are you!? It's been years and nothing? She's just disappeared off the face of the planet? No text, no body, no blood. What the fuck man?! What would you do if that were your sister?"
A tiny gasp pulls my attention back to the door. Fuck. Nikki's head and shoulders pour out of the doorway. I hadn't even heard the door open under my rant.
I don't want to explain to Nikki how I fucked up. I don't want to have to tell her that I'm a horrible person. I don't want her to look at me differently.
I slam the End button on my phone before raging towards her. My fists are balled, my chest is heaving, and an alarm is blaring in the back of my skull that this is a bad idea.
I grab her arm and press her against the brick wall. At least I'm aware enough to put my hand between the back of her head and the wall, but the rest of me is fuming.
Wide brown eyes stare up at me, but she's not afraid. I'd expect any woman to cower under a raging asshole like me. One who is clearly violent and out of control.
"Why the fuck aren't you afraid of me!?" I shout down at her. My stomach sours even as I speak to her like this, but my anger has always been my go-to emotion when things get hard. When mom went hungry because she couldn't afford to feed us. Whenever the bullies would make fun of Nat and me because our clothes were stained or had holes in them. Whenever anyone looked at Mom wrong because she would have to compare the coupons for cans of vegetables.
When Nat was taken.
Because if I let myself feel any other emotion-anything besides anger - I'd have crumbled. After mom passed, Nat was my world. My only living family member. Mine to protect. And I failed her. So, instead of imploding into a ball of self-loathing and loss, I clung to my anger. If she were ever found, I needed to be around. And I couldn't do that if I weren't angry.
Dad took off when we were young. The old story of "he went out for some scratchers and never came back". Mom was young and worked as a school janitor. She would steal printer paper for me because she knew I loved to draw. She always said her taxes went to fund the schools, so she was only taking what she was owed.
I always worried she'd get caught, but she did it anyway. Her life was hard. And she aged quickly because of it. She had a brain aneurysm a week after Nat moved out of the house. It was almost like she was waiting for both of her kids to be okay before she let herself rest.
