“So how did you get him to go to sleep?”

“Drugs.”  Preach states matter-of-factly and without remorse.

“You gave him drugs?”

“Don’t look at me like I’m the devil.  They’re his drugs.  Doc prescribed ‘em for him after the last fight.  He started taking them too much so I took ‘em away.  But he needed ‘em this morning, so I gave him enough to get him some sleep.  The boy’s got more energy than anyone I’ve ever met when he’s on a tear.  But the longer the tear, the harder the recovery.  Nipped this one in the bud.”

“Has he slept all day?”

“Haven’t seen him, so I’m guessing he did. I wasn’t going up to check.”

“I’m going to go check on him.”

Preach nods his head.  “I’m sure he’d like that better than waking up to me.”

Nico is lying diagonally across his bed, face down on his stomach.  He’s still wearing the trunks from the fight the afternoon before.  I watch his back rise and fall.  Relief floods me that he’s still breathing.

Quietly, I back out of the room and pull the door shut again.  I don’t want to wake him after what Preach told me.  I find a pen and paper in the drawer in the kitchen and leave him a note on the table.   Stopped by to check on you, didn’t want to wake you.  Sweet Dreams.  Elle

It’s almost ten o’clock at night by the time my phone finally rings.  I grab it off the end table anxiously.  “Hey.”

“Hey.”  Nico’s voice is groggy and it sounds like he might have just woken up.

“Did you just wake up?”  If he did, those are some powerful drugs because he would have been out for almost sixteen hours straight.

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”  Nico’s inflection tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it.  It seems like I’ll be getting answers with minimum words again.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I said I’m fine, Elle.”  It’s not lost on me that he uses my name.  I became Babe to him the first week I met him.  It shouldn’t be significant, but for some reason the simple change makes me feel like we’ve taken a step back.  And his tone, I try not to get offended.  I remember people trying to help me, when I wasn’t ready to accept it yet.  It just pissed me off.  But still, I can’t help but feel disappointed that he is going to close me out with everyone else.

“Okay.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence that sits between us.  Something that I’ve never experienced with Nico.  My stomach twists, but I wait for him to speak first.

“I need to make something to eat.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I act like nothing’s wrong, even though I feel my heart squeeze at his words.  He’s blowing me off.  “Okay.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I do my best to sound upbeat when I’m anything but.

For the first time, I realize I’ve really fallen for Nico Hunter.

Nico

It’s fucking killing me to keep away from Elle.  She’s all I can think about, but I don’t want her to see me this way.  Weak.  Scared.  I can’t even fight anymore.   I thought I’d moved past it all, moved on with my life after more than a year of running in place.  But the nightmares are back.  I can’t sleep and god damn Preach won’t give me any more of the pills.

She knows I’ve been avoiding her.  I’m ruining the one good thing that I’ve found in a very long time, because I’m afraid to close my eyes and see his face.  He haunts me.  Haunts me for what I did to him, but I fucking deserve it.

I’m on the other side of the gym listening to one of Preach’s lectures for the hundredth time, when she walks in.  I’m not expecting her, I don’t hear the door open or the sound of her voice, but somehow I feel her presence.  I turn around and look for her.  Our eyes find each other like magnets.  Fuck, she’s beautiful.  I love her in those god damn prissy looking suits she wears.  Her face is apprehensive at first, like she’s not sure if showing up unannounced is going to be welcome.  Jesus, I did that to her.  Made her feel that she may not be welcome.  What a total asshole I am.

She smiles at me from across the room and I can’t help but feel the first glimpse of light I’ve felt in days.  I watch her as she gets closer and see her face falter when she gets a good look at me.  I look like shit.  I haven’t shaved since before the fight and my eyes are dark from sleepless nights.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been wearing the same shirt for at least thirty-six hours and I’m wondering if I might also smell too.

“Hi.”  I see the concern in her eyes when she reaches me and speaks.

“Hey.”

“Figured if I didn’t ask, you couldn’t tell me not to come.”  She smiles at me apprehensively and it makes me want to reach over and kiss her so hard she’ll never doubt I want her near me.  But I don’t.  Instead I stand like an asshole and say nothing and just nod my head as if I can comprehend what is actually going on in that beautiful head of hers.

“Preach, do you mind if I steal him for a little bit?”  She turns to the bastard that was chewing me out a minute ago, who is now all smiles for her.

“By all means, take him.  You can keep him for all I care.”  The second part is mumbled under his breath as Preach walks away, but we both hear it.

“Can we go upstairs and talk?”  Her voice is low, sweet.

I nod and lead the way.  I pull down the gate to the elevator to my loft and suddenly it’s just the two of us and the car feels small.  She smells so damn good.  Everything about her is good, unlike me.   I hate myself for wanting her so much, even though she deserves better.

Elle puts her purse on the kitchen counter and takes a few minutes before she turns around to face me.  But when she does, she looks nervous.

“I want you to talk to me.  You won’t let me in.”  Her voice is shaky, but when I look at her she squares her shoulders and digs deep for whatever she is working towards.

“I don’t want to talk Elle.”  What does she want me to tell her?  That I need time to sort out the demons in my head?  The demons that I deserve to haunt me every hour of every day for the rest of my life?

She takes two steps toward me, stopping just in front of me.  “I can help… and there’s grief counseling…and groups to help people going through things like this.”

My response is a sardonic laugh and I can see immediately it’s the wrong reaction.  Elle’s face quickly changes from concerned to pissed off.  She crosses her arms in front of her chest and it looks like she is ready for a fight.

“You think it’s funny that I want to help?”

“No I think it’s funny that you think you can help.”

“I can help. But you have to let me.”

“Elle, run while you have the chance.  You can’t fix me.  I’m not some project for you to take on like charity. You’re better off with someone who is more like you.”

              Here eyes widen to saucers.  “More like me?  What does that mean? William? Is that what you’re telling me, I should go back to someone like William?”   Her voice is growing louder with each response.

The mention of William’s name from Elle’s lips strikes me harder than any physical blow.  The thought of that pretty boy anywhere near my Elle makes me froth at the mouth.  I’m angry.  Angry at just hearing her say the words.  But maybe that’s really where she belongs.

“You want William, Elle?”  Seething, the words make me sick to even her myself say them.

“I want you.  I want to help you, damn it!”

“You can’t help me, Elle.  I’m fucking broken.  I killed a man.   With my own two hands, I took another person’s life.  Only a monster does that. A monster that will rot in hell.  It’s where I fucking belong!”

“It was an accident!”   We are screaming at each other now.  Completely and totally screaming at the top of our lungs, each trying to get our point across by yelling louder.