Page 94 of Wine & Whiskey
Max’s swear brings her back to the present. “What’s wrong?”
He massages his temples before he turns to her. “Carter said Nick’s been sitting at the kitchen table for the past hour, staring at a plate of food. The only thing he’s said is…” He shakes his head. “I won’t repeat it, but it’s not good.”
* * *
Her heart poundsat the sight of Marta waiting in front of the house, wringing a dishtowel between her hands. Even through the darkened window, her red-rimmed eyes and furrowed brow reveal her fear, aging her beyond her sixty-seven years. The housekeeper grasps Shae’s hands as she steps out of the limo. “Nick in bad way. He sit at table all night. He no eat. He no leave.”
Nick must be sick to scare Marta like this. In all the time she’s known him, he’s never treated Marta with anything but kindness. Shae attempts to sound confident as she hugs the older woman. “It’s going to be okay.”
Max’s phone chirps, and he glances at the screen. “It’s Carter. Give me a minute, and we'll go in.”
He paces back and forth, turning his back on her as he talks. Unable to make out his words, yet the worried tone comes through. Knowing the man she loves suffers just a few feet away, she pushes open the door and strides into the house.
Inside the kitchen, Nick hunches over the table, his head resting in his hands. An untouched plate of food and empty whiskey glass sit on the apple green placemat. She scoots a chair next to him and lightly rubs his back. “Hi.”
“What do you want?”
She ignores the growing lump in her throat. The man sitting next to her isn’t the Nick she knows. That’s why she’s here and not in New York. To help bring back the man she loves from wherever he’s gotten lost. “I’m worried about you. Carter said you didn’t feel well.”
“My head’s killing me.”
“I know. I think it’s time for you to go to the doctor. Let’s go the hospital and see Nathan. He can help us figure out what’s wrong.”
He pushes back from the table and stands up, wobbling before gripping the wooden edge, whitened knuckles holding him up. His pale, gaunt skin contrasts with his unfocused, dark-rimmed eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing. I—”
“Don’t kid yourself, baby.” He shakes his head, his voice full of bitter arrogance. “Everybody wants something from me.”
“I just want to help you feel better.”
“There’s only person who can help me, and she’s long gone.”
A jab to her heart. His mother? An old girlfriend? Either way, someone who isn’t her. As much as it hurts, she forces herself to ask. Maybe whoeversheis, she can help. “Who?”
“Shae. I loved her, and she left me.”
His glassy eyes look right through her. To him, she’s a random person bothering him. Fearful of his reaction, she hesitates to touch him again. She leans in closer to his face, trying to make him really see her. “It’s me, Nick. I’m Shae. I’m right here.”
“No, Shae wouldn’t dress like this.” He scowls before reaching out and running a strand of her hair through his fingers. “Not with this slutty hair and makeup.”
Unable to hold back, she attempts to build a connection between them and covers his hand with hers. “It was for TV. I wore all of this forSaturday Night Live, remember?”
He flings her hand off like it burns him. His face flushes as the fury ignites. “You did something with her, didn’t you? Where is she? What did you to do her?”
Her love can’t reach as far as he’s gone. Maybe Max can convince him to go to the hospital. Or physically force him, if need be. Her shoulders slump in defeat. Everyone feared he would destroy her, and it ended up being her who pushes him beyond the breaking point. An easy target for his enemies, she causes him endless worry. The stress of protecting her too much for him to withstand any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”
“You think I’m too stupid to realize you’re trying to fucking trick me?”
She flinches from his dinner plate smashing against the wall behind her, her legs quivering as she steps backward. The only time she’s ever been afraid of him. “I’m not, I promise. I’ll get Max. He can help us.”
“Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
Nick charges after her as she runs out of the kitchen. She flies into his office and locks the door with trembling hands, trying to figure out what’s gone wrong, how to help him. She has to find Max. Wood splinters behind her as Nick kicks in the door.
“I’m fucking talking to you.” As he lunges at her, she puts her hands up to protect herself. He grabs her wrists, his fierce grip crushing her bones. She falls to her knees, the carpet burning her skin as he yanks her forward. The room spins around them, her head flailing as he shakes her, screaming in her face. “Never fucking walk away when I’m talking to you. Do you hear me? I said, do you hear me?”
The force of his anger leaves her breathless, and all she can do is whisper, “Yes. I hear you.”
