Revive (Storm MC 3)

Nash shifted in his chair and muttered under his breath so that only I heard him, “Fuck, do we really have to listen to this shit?”

I turned to look at him and for the first time, noticed the tiredness that marred his face. “You okay?” I asked, softly, “You look tired.”

His response was unhurried. “Yeah, just got some stuff on my mind at the moment.”

“You want to talk about it?”

He smiled tightly. “Thanks, but I don’t really even want to think about it let alone talk about it.”

“Sure, I get it. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“Yeah. I do.”

I contemplated what I wanted to say, not sure how he would take it, but then decided to hell with it; we’d come this far now that it was just too bad if he didn’t like me saying it. “I worry about you, Nash. I wish you would talk to me about stuff when it’s upsetting or worrying you.” I rested my hand lightly on his arm as I said it. His reaction was swift; his arm jerked and surprise flickered across his face.

He pulled his arm away and stood abruptly. Looking down at me, he asserted, “You don’t have to worry about me. This stuff will go away soon and I’ll be fine.” Shifting his gaze to Harlow, he apologised, “Sorry, Harlow, but I’ve gotta go.”

She gave him a disappointed look. “Really?”

“Yeah, got shit to do.” He didn’t elaborate. And then he was gone. And I was left stunned yet again by his behaviour. Nash wasn’t being his usual fun self lately, and now I was really concerned for him.

Chapter 8

Scream ~ Usher

Velvet

The sound of my ringing phone pulled me out of the deep sleep I was in. Squinting my eyes, I checked the caller ID. Shit, it was James. How the hell had he gotten my phone number? I dropped it back down on the bed; I wasn’t answering his call. Instead, I rolled off the bed and traipsed into the kitchen to get a drink. The time on the clock caught my eye; five o’clock in the afternoon. It was Sunday and I’d spent most of the day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. The rain was falling on the roof and I couldn’t believe my luck that I’d been blessed with rain on my day off. Rainy Sundays in bed were a favourite of mine.

I downed the glass of water I’d just poured and cursed when my phone started ringing again. Ignoring it, I gave my attention to Bella, my kitty. She was rubbing herself up against my legs, demanding I feed her. Hell, this cat was always asking for food; she really should have been fatter than she was with all the food I gave her. I couldn’t help but give in to her demands every time.

The phone stopped ringing as I poured some food into her bowl. She looked at me with her ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ look.

“That’s all you get,” I said to her and with one last cranky look at me, she began eating.

Deciding I must smell bad, I headed into the bathroom for a shower. Just as I leant in to turn the taps on, my phone rang again. What the hell? Now he’d pissed me off. I stalked into the bedroom and retrieved my phone. “What the fuck do you want?” I snapped at him.

“Lovely to speak to you too, Velvet. Do we really need the language every time we talk?” he chided.

“Yes, we fucking do,” I swore for his benefit.

He sighed. “Your lawyer has my proposal. Has he contacted you?”

He had, but James didn’t need to know that. I figured it was my turn to muck him around after all the shit he’d ever put me through. “No.”

“Can I suggest you get in touch with him?”

“It’s Sunday, James. Surely you don’t mean for me to call him today.”

“Velvet, I think you are underestimating the seriousness of this situation.”

“No, James, I think you’re underestimating the lack of fucks I give about this situation.” This man seriously made my blood boil. I had no clue how I ever thought I’d loved him.

Silence was followed by the nasty snarl I knew so well from years ago. “You’re still the gutter trash you were when I met you and saved you. Getting rid of you was the best move I ever made and it’s no wonder that you don’t have a man in your life, because I can’t imagine anyone choosing you over the other women out there.”

The rational part of me knew his words were worthless and not to be given any attention to, but there was a par

t of me that was powerless when it came to James. He used his words like weapons and they annihilated me every time. They shredded their way through the self belief I’d spent years building and circled their way through my body in a painful spiral of doubt, loathing and fear.