Page 23 of Worth the Wait
Ron took a sip of his can. “Needs toearnthat.”
Nathan didn’t answer. He stomped through to the kitchen, dumped the cold bundle of uneaten chips into the bin, then stood there, gripping the edge of the counter. Breathing. Swallowing whatever response was building at the back of his throat.
Nathan turned and headed back through the lounge. “I’m calling it a night. I’ll run Alfie to school in the morning, then come give you a hand in the garage.”
Ron gave a grunt of approval. “’Bout time we got some use out of you. Long as you’re better than that wet-behind-the-ears mechanic I had last week. Straight out of college, couldn’t take a bollocking when he cocked up a carburettor. Walked out mid-shift.”
“I’ll try not to cry if you shout at me.” Nathan gave a dry smile. Cause he’d been trying that for years. “Least I’ll be cheaper.”
That earned him the ghost of a smirk.
Without another word, he climbed the stairs, the house creaking around him with every step. He paused outside Alfie’s door but heard nothing beyond the wood, so turned and slipped into his own room.
The air inside was heavy with memories and the quiet thrum of his own thoughts. Same peeling posters, same ceiling he’d stared at countless nights trying to imagine a life beyond these walls.
Now he was back.
And he didn’t know if he was here to rebuild something or bury it for good.
Chapter five
Domestic Warfare
Freddie woke to the trill of his phone vibrating on the bedside table, cutting clean through a dream he was pretty sure involved him winning the lottery and never having to wear his stab vest again. He groaned, rolled onto his front, and burrowed his face into the pillow as if it might save him from reality. He wasn’t on call, so this had to be something else.
The screen lit up.Piper. Course it was.
He snatched the phone with a grumble, squinting at the time, then answered without lifting his head. “What?”
“Can you please, please, please take Tilly to school for me?”Piper’s rushed, frazzled voice layered over the unmistakable shriek of a baby in full meltdown.
Freddie sighed so deeply it rattled in his chest. “For fuck’s sake, Pipes. It’s my first day off.”
“I know. That’s why I knew I could count on you.”
In the background, Ry-Ry was clearly attempting tosummon the dead with his wails.
“I’ve had zero sleep. None. Zilch. I look like fucking shit. Ryan won’t stop crying. I think he’s teething, poor sod, but I literally cannot face Tilly’s hot as fuck teacher dressed in a sick-stained onesie without my extensions in or my eyelashes on. And Tilly’s already got one shoe on the wrong foot. Please, Freddie. She’s going to be late and I’ll get bollocked again.”
Freddie rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Why can’t you ask Mum?”
“She’s away.”
That jolted him enough to sit up. “Away where?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here. Please, Freddie. Tills is waiting by the door. She dressed herself.”
Which could mean anything from a princess gown to pyjamas and wellies. He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face, abandoning any last hope of a peaceful lie-in, and maybe a lazy wank under the sheets. Not that that was going to happen. Not when the only image creeping behind his eyelids had blue eyes, a bad leg, and a voice he hadn’t heard in fifteen years.
Had seen him, though.
Online.
Did a deep dive one night after too many drinks and too little self-restraint. No social media. None in his name, anyway. But he’d found a forces newsletter with a blurry photo and a caption that mentioned a promotion. Staff Sergeant Nathan Carter. Another time, he stumbled across a local news clip, some charity run for injured veterans. Nathan had been in the background, helping someone into a wheelchair, sleeves rolled up, buzz cut, eyes sharp.
That was the last time he looked.
Because it hurt like fuck.
