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Authors: Katie Ashley

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Nets and Lies (25 page)

BOOK: Nets and Lies
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On Saturday night, I stood in front of my closet debating what to wear. Nick had told me to dress casually, but I didn’t know exactly how casual he meant. With time ticking by, I finally choose a simple black skirt with a purple sweater. I made sure that it wasn’t one of my more cleavage baring ones. I didn’t think it was right to flash my boobs in church, but at the same time, I also didn’t want to show too much skin to Nick either.

Promptly at seven, Nick rang the doorbell. I slipped into my black knee boots and then ran down stairs. When I threw open the door, Nick drank in my appearance from head to toe. “You look amazing,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.”

And it was the truth. The sight of him in his black dress shirt and black pants sent my heart racing. With his electric purple tie, we appeared to have color coordinated.

We stood awkwardly for a moment. “Why don’t you come in while I get my coat?”

“Sure,” he said, as he stepped inside the foyer. As I went to the closet, I noticed him sizing up the living room. “You have a really beautiful house.”

“Thanks,” I said, as I pulled on my coat. “I’d introduce you to my mom, but she’s out with her boyfriend.”

Nick smiled. “That’s okay. Some other time.” A hopeful look twinkled in his eyes.

I nodded.

“Okay, then, let’s get going.”

When we got outside, I slid into Nick’s older model Honda. It had a comforting feeling to it, mainly because it smelled like him. As we made the drive across town, we didn’t talk. Instead, we listened to the radio. I wasn’t really sure what to say. I knew this wasn’t supposed to be a date. We were just hanging out. I mean, he was taking me to church on a Saturday night for goodness sake. How much more undate-like could you get?

But it really felt like a date, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. Not to mention I was supposed to be giving up men, although my new therapist didn’t think the cold turkey approach was in my best interest. Personally, I didn’t like the shame or guilt that coursed through me when I thought about being with Nick. I also didn’t like that tiny flicker still burning within me for Coach T.

When we arrived at the church, I knew I was in for a whole new ball game when I saw what appeared to be a group of Hells Angels motorcycle guys. “Um is this Biker Heaven or something?” I asked.

Nick laughed. “No, smartass it isn’t. Now will you please promise to keep an open mind during the service?”

“I’ll try,” I grumbled.

The “church” wasn’t an actual church. Instead, it was a large room in an abandoned warehouse. The moment we walked through the door, my ears stung from the screamo music blaring out of the speakers. It took me a few seconds to realize it was
Christian
screamo. Hmm, I was definitely out of St. Catherine’s territory.

Nick spoke to everyone, and I could tell people were touched by him here just like they were at work. They all sized me up—I guess deciding if I was the right kind of girl for him. But those looks were fleeting, and I found more acceptance than I’d experience in a long, long time. It was really nice.

As the band struck up a few contemporary songs, Nick leaned over. “You’re really going to like Henry, the pastor.”

I cocked my eyebrows while fighting not to sound like a smart ass with an “I highly doubt it” response.

“He was a junkie too, but he’s even more hardcore than me because he did time.”

I gasped. “You mean the church’s pastor is a felon?”

“Redemption, remember?”

“If you say so,” I mumbled.

“He had a life altering experience in prison. Now he owns a business, lives in the suburbs and has a wife and three kids.” Nick grinned at me. “Aren’t you impressed?”

“Oh yeah, just shows there’s hope for all us sinners.”

He shook his head at me and then turned his attention back to the music. I passed the time by surveying the congregation and wondering what their back stories were like. When the pastor got up, I tried really hard to pay attention, for Nick’s sake, but it was hard. My mind wanted to wander.

Half-way through the sermon, Nick reached over and took my hand in his. I stared up at him, and he smiled and winked, which cause my heart to flutter in my chest. This was bad—very, very bad. I wasn’t supposed to be having these feelings again so soon. I ducked my head in shame when impure thoughts involving Nick rocketed through my mind.

When church was over, Nick tugged on my sweater sleeve. “I want to introduce you to Henry.”

“Um, do I have to?”

Ignoring me, Nick grabbed my hand and then dragged me down the aisle. We stood in line while Henry and his wife shook hands with members.

At the sight of Nick, Henry’s eyes lit up. “I’m so glad to see you here tonight,” he said enthusiastically while pumping Nick’s hand up and down.

Nick grinned. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Henry then turned his attention to me. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

Wow, I don’t think anyone had referred to me as a “lady” in years. I shook Henry’s hand as Nick said, “This is my friend, Jordan.”

Henry gave me his warmest smile. “It’s so nice to have you. I sure hope you’ll come back.”

Jeez, nothing like being put on the spot, not to mention I hated to lie to a minister. “Um, yeah, sure, I’ll try.”

Fortunately, another church member was waiting after me to speak to Henry, so I was momentarily off the hook. Nick, with his hand resting on my lower back, led me up the aisle to where we had come in.

I exhaled noisily as we exited through the double doors. When I glanced over, Nick was grinning at me. He cuffed the back of my neck playfully. “Come on, Jordan. Let’s get you out of church Hell and over to my place.”

It turned out Nick’s loft was in the same row of buildings as the church. It wasn’t the greatest looking area in the world, but I was so proud for him. He’d come a long, long way in a year.

Nick took his keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door. After he opened it, he motioned for me to go in first. I took off my coat and glanced around the apartment.

“So, um, it’s not much, but this is home sweet home,” Nick said. He raked his hand over his dark, buzzed hair, and I could tell he was nervous showing it to me.

It might have been a bit run down on the outside, but the inside was so homey. It was one huge, open room. One part was divided into a kitchen and dining room and past that there was a living area with a worn sofa and chair. In the far corner was a double bed and chest of drawers. A partition divided what I imagined was the shower and toilet from the rest of the room.

I turned back to Nick and smiled. “It’s great—I love it.”

He cocked his eyebrows. “Really? I would’ve thought compared to your house, it’s a real shithole.”

I shook my head furiously, hating how he was running himself down. “That’s my
mom’s
house. This is
your
place. You did all of this yourself without anyone else’s money. And for someone who is a recovering addict off the streets that’s pretty freakin’ amazing.”

Nick contemplated my response. Then he grinned broadly. “Okay, then, let’s get started on dinner.”

I followed him over to the kitchen. “And what culinary delight are you preparing?”

“Well, I figured after working all the time in an Italian restaurant, we could do with a change. So, I thought chicken enchiladas would be good.”

I bobbed my head appreciatively. “How did you know I loved Mexican food so much?”

“Lucky guess….and a good one considering I went ahead and made them earlier today!”

I laughed as Nick took out a casserole dish from the refrigerator. He passed it under my nose for inspection. “Hmm, those smell amazing.”

He beamed as he set the dish aside to preheat the oven. “I figured we’d be pretty starved after we got in, so I thought I’d better plan ahead.”

“I do like a man with a plan,” I joked as I hopped up on one of the empty counters. Swinging my feet back and forth, I watched as Nick began gathering the onions, tomatoes, and chilies for fresh Pico de Gallo. “So where did you learn to cook?” I asked when he started dicing the veggies.

“It’s actually in my blood. My dad’s family owns an Italian restaurant up in Jersey. When he wasn’t on a binge, my dad would do the cooking in the house. He taught me a lot of dishes that had been passed down in my family from when they were back in Sicily. I’m hoping to convince Manny to let me introduce them to the menu.”

I rolled my eyes. “Good luck with that one.”

The oven timer went off, and he slid the enchiladas inside. “Tell me about it.”

“But hey, if your family was from Sicily, maybe you’ve got some mob connections that could put some heat on Manny.”

Nick laughed. “That would be awesome, wouldn’t it?”

I giggled. “It’d probably make working for him a lot easier. He is such a tool sometimes.”

With a snort, Nick said, “I don’t think he needs the mob. I think he just needs to get laid.” The moment he realized what he said, his ducked his head. He busied himself fixing some chips and salsa for us to snack on.

To change the subject, I asked, “Do you ever hear from any of your dad’s family?”

“Yeah, I actually talked with one of my uncles a few months ago. He’d been looking for me since I left the last foster home.”

“That’s great.”

Nick nodded. “When he heard I wanted to go to culinary school, he asked me to come up to Jersey and run the family restaurant while I’m in school.”

My heart sank. I couldn’t believe the emotions coursing through me. Even though it was way too soon, I couldn’t bear the thoughts of Nick leaving. Finally I found my voice again. “That’s awesome.”

“I haven’t decided if I want to do it or not. It would be cool to have some family support after all these years.”

“I can only imagine.”

He slid the plate with the chips and salsa over to me. “Have you ever thought of looking up your dad?”

Shrugging, I took one of the chips and broke it apart. “Sometimes.”

Nick came over and stood in front of me. “Are you afraid of what you might find out? Like what happened to him?”

“Maybe.” At Nick’s expectant gaze, I sighed. “Maybe I’m afraid that I’ll find him living an amazing life with a new wife and kids. Maybe I’ll find out that he still doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, and that his greatest regret is me being born.”

I hated myself when tears stung my eyes. When they spilled over my cheeks, Nick swept them away. “You won’t ever know until you try,” he whispered.

I bobbed my head. “Yeah, I know.”

“You might find out he’s been wrestling with contacting you just as much as you have him.”

“That’d be cool.”

Nick smiled. “Hang in there, Jordan. Things are going to work out for you.”

His words made me cry harder. As I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, I sniffed, “Don’t you get it? I’ve been a horrible person, Nick! I could’ve sent Coach T to jail if everyone believed me!” When another thought flashed in my mind, my emotional pain doubled me over in physical pain. “I killed my baby.”

In an instant, Nick wrapped his arms around me as hard sobs wracked my body. “Hey now, I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t cry,” he crooned in my ear.

Through hiccupping breaths, I said, “I don’t deserve good things to happen to me. I deserve to pay over and over for what I’ve done!”

He rubbed wide circles over my back. “No, you don’t. It’s called forgiveness, and you’ve got to try to forgive yourself.” Pulling away, he cupped my face in his hands. “You’ve done some shitty things in your past. But it’s the
past
. Don’t look back anymore. Just look forward.”

I stared into his deep blue eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

“There wouldn’t be a reason for me to live anymore if I didn’t focus on the future.”

Gripping the sides of his shirt, I said, “Then thank goodness for that because I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

At that moment, an acrid smell assaulted my nostrils. “Shit, the rice!” Nick cried, spinning away from me.

“I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “What are you apologizing for?”

I swiped the tears off my cheek with the back of my hand. “It’s my fault you weren’t watching the rice.”

Nick shook his head at me. “Would you stop with the ‘everything is Jordan’s fault’?” He picked up the pot and dumped out the burnt contents. “See,” he said, waving the box at me as he started on a new batch. “It’s all good, so don’t beat yourself up.”

“I’ll try,” I murmured.

After my emotional melt-down, we didn’t talk for a few minutes. Instead, we just listened to the radio Nick had turned on. While I started munching on the chips and salsa, Nick finally broke the silence. “So how did you like church?”

I swallowed hard. “Oh, um, it was…interesting.”

Nick paused in stirring the rice and cocked his eyebrow at me. “You know you can tell me the truth, Jordan.”

“I am,” I insisted.

BOOK: Nets and Lies
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