Page 19 of Nash

“Am I human?”

I shake my head.I’ve kidnapped a barracuda.She won’t stop snapping at me.

It’s two a.m. as I pull into a drive-thru. I don’t usually eat this shit, but I’m starving. I don’t ask her; I order two quarter-pounders with cheese, and she looks surprised that I remembered.

“I’ve listened to you at work,” I explain. “You still love cheeseburgers for lunch.”

“What are you? Alexa?”

Silently, I hand her the brown paper bag.

“This is organic, right?” She unwraps her burger. “Farm to table grease?”

Good.She’s got her snark and appetite back, so I take a huge bite. Usually, I have manners. And patience. And silence. It’s part of my disguise, but around her, I feel like a teenager again.

Hungry. Angry. Horny.Alive.

I don’t answer her. I drive down the highway, scarfing down my food and enjoying loud sips of Dr. Pepper while she does the same.

But then it happens. A bubble of carbonation erupts from my throat, and I burp, long and loud, before I wince, embarrassed because it’s rude.

“Oh, good.” She laughs. “He’s not a beast. He’s human again.” Then she burps louder than me. “That was a ten,” she praises herself with a smile.

And, fuck.

Don’t do it. Don’t smile back.

But, fuck. I do.

I feel dangerously unguarded around her when I’m already so exposed.

No one knows who I really am other than the kings and our few queens … and yet, somehow, I’m tempted to let Vale see even more than they do. I’m tempted to let her see a man no one has known, not even myself.

But the temptation evaporates when I think of my daughter and their safety, hers and Vale’s, as we drive down the blocks of historic Charleston.

Of course, I know where she lives.

Vale rents a unit on the third floor of a yellow, historic row house just two blocks from her work. Its narrow front faces a cobble-stoned street with long, open porches down the side.

I circle her block three times, scanning for threats, and I don’t like it. Old homes like this are difficult to secure. The only good thing is it has a private, dedicated parking space, and Vale has a bicycle in it, so my car fits.

She turns to me. “Why are we at my place? Why aren’t we going to one of your mafia safe houses? You call them ‘safe’ for a reason, right?”

“Nothing is safer than a secret, and that’s what you and I are for now.”

“So I have to hide you?”

“No, you have to let me protect you until I’m sure they won’t come looking for you, too.”

“How would they even know who I am?”

I pause, frustrated, before sharing my rationale, “They saw me outside my home, trying to get a beautiful young woman to shut her fucking mouth and get in my van. Fast forward to them wanting to know who the woman is so they’ll explore my daughter’s world. I’ve tried erasing her past, but there are high school yearbook photos with Alena hugging you in them. The damn things are online and a huge risk, and now it’s a matter of time before they figure out who you are.”

“Jeez, so much for being in the Glee Club.” She looks around. “So what now?”

“I’ll get my gear, and you’ll stay behind me with your hand on my shoulder, letting me know you’re there while I lead and make sure it’s clear.”

“Oh, it’s clear.” She huffs, “This is clearly hell.”

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