“Sorry.” She released my arm and dropped her voice low enough that the guys around us wouldn’t hear over the drone of the television. “Can’t cry in here, even over Axel. You show them any sign of weakness, and that’ll be the end of you.” She shifted the drink tray back to both arms. “If you’re going to run this joint, you gotta earn their respect.”
Her words were a sucker punch to my stomach. “If I’m—wait, what?”
But Rebel was already sashaying away to deliver her drinks, leaving me gaping after her.
Run the joint?
I turned stiffly.
Nash stood behind the bar, watching me carefully. I hadn’t even noticed him until then. My gaze met his, and he cocked his head to one side. He motioned me over to him with a wriggle of two fingers.
I went.
He leaned forward, elbows on the bar top as I approached.
“Figured you’d be back.”
“You did?”
“You do own the place now.”
The shock was less this time, now that I’d heard it twice. “Does everybody but me know that?”
Nash’s forehead furrowed. “What do you mean? Isn’t that why you’re here? The lawyer spoke to you, right? He was here yesterday, asking for you.”
“Only if the lawyer makes house calls in the middle of the night and delivers the contents of wills while pinning you to the bed by your throat.”
Nash blanched and reared back. “What the fuck, Bliss?”
I hadn’t meant to say that. Those damn tears threatened to spill over once more. I blinked hard, willing them away. I’d heard Rebel’s warning, but besides that, I was so tired of crying.
Nash took one look at my watering eyes though, and jumped the bar, landing on his feet in front of me. He put a finger beneath my chin and tilted it up, his gaze searching my face.
I hadn’t come here to spill everything to him. I’d come for answers, but just like he’d been when I was a kid, Nash was a safe haven. Even still, Rebel was right. I needed to grow a backbone. I’d cried more in the past three days than I had in years. It had to stop.
If I numbed everything out, then I wouldn’t have to feel it.
I just had to get to a place where that was even possible. And right now, with last night’s fear still trembling through my limbs, and my heart broken for my brother, numbness felt a long way away.
Nash took in everything I was trying to hide but couldn’t. “Do you want some coffee?”
I laughed, pulling away from his touch, knowing Caleb wouldn’t want me near him like this. “You sell coffee here?” This didn’t seem like a coffee and cake sort of establishment. More like beer, cigarettes, and bar fights.
“Not good stuff. But I know somewhere that does.”
Without waiting for me to agree, he leaned over the bar top, reaching beneath the other side for his wallet and keys. His shirt rode up a bit as he stretched, and my gaze strayed to his jean-clad ass.
“Enjoying the scenery there, Dis?” Rebel whispered, swinging by with her now-empty tray and tossing it onto the bar.
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I shot her a dirty look, even though Nash didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard anything. Still, I was embarrassed. Nash’s ass wasn’t anything I should have been observing with another man’s ring on my finger.
Nash straightened with his wallet and keys in his hand. “You ready? I’ll drive.”
I didn’t trust myself to answer, but Nash wasn’t waiting for one. He put his hand to my lower back and herded me toward the parking lot. “Mind the fort,” he called to Rebel. “Don’t fucking drink on the job.”
Rebel’s tears had been safely locked away, and her sass was back. “At least not ’til you get back and join in, right? Should I have shots ready to go?”
Nash just shook his head and kept walking. “You’re fired.”
She laughed louder. “You ain’t the boss anymore, Boss Man. Damn, gonna have to get a new nickname for you now.”
“You could just call me Nash, you know? Like everyone else. Since it’s my name and all.”
“Where’s the fun in that? Everyone needs a good nickname. Right, Disney?”
I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t gone by a nickname in a very long time. Until I’d moved in with my father, I hadn’t even known my legal name was Bethany-Melissa. I’d only ever been Bliss until that point. My father had hated that nickname. He’d said it sounded cheap and classless, just like my mother.