Page 15 of Carry On

What the fuck was wrong with me? This wasn’t me. At least it hadn’t been in a long time. I’d done a lot of stupid things in the name of sex, love, lust, and romance. Some people drank to feel good. I used people or let them use me—used sex to feel better, to let go, to feel good. It was a vice I struggled to maintain control of. More than once, I’d put myself in a dangerous situation because of it.

Call it abandonment issues, call it lack of affection, call it a crappy childhood manifested into adulthood issues. Whatever it was, it fucked with my head and had screwed up a lot of parts of my life.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed. I refused to let Nash Calhoun be the reason I lost control. I could get through this. I’d done it before, and I could do it again.The system I had in place was a foolproof way to do so. I grabbed my phone and texted the first person I knew who could help me get whateverthiswas out of my system.

Are you free tonight?

I anxiously tapped the back of my phone, needing something to do as the chat bubbles came and disappeared. The lengthy reply didn’t bode well for me.

CHIP: Sorry, handsome. I’m with another client tonight. My schedule is open tomorrow for you, if you’d like?

I can’t, but thank you.

Crap. I couldn’t be upset with him for that one. I was the one texting last-minute after all. My solution for dealing with my vice was to hire high-end sex workers. Maybe it was frowned down upon, but it was either that or abstain completely. I had no desire whatsoever to be celibate. At least this was a safe and smart way to handle it.

I cycled between two—Chip and Tanya—and tried to only see them a few times a month based on the ebb and flow of my job. It made sense, and it kept me from doing stupid shit.

Like chasing down Nash and doing something I’d ultimately regret, which was why I tried Tanya.

Are you free tonight?

Her response was almost instant.

TANYA: sure bby. what time?

I did my best not to cringe at her lack of grammar. She killed me via text every time, but her presence was great at pulling me out of my head.

Let me book a room, and I’ll send you a time.

As I went to do exactly that, my work phone trilled. The sound gave me pause. Rarely did my work phone go off this late at night, and if it did, it wasn’t a good thing. I rushed to answer it.

“This is Lincoln Cassidy,” I said when I did.

“Mr. Cassidy, this is Officer Michael Hart. I don’t know if you remember—”

“I remember you.” Not that I wanted to. That name was attached to a lot of bad memories. I avoided his precinct like my life depended on it, probably because it did. Some things needed to stay in the past, and that precinct was one of them. “What do you need?”

“I have one Nash Calhoun here in custody.” My frown deepened at his words. “He’s requested your services for legal representation.”

Well, that was not what I was expecting.

“Was my client denied the right to make the phone call himself?” I asked because officers didn’t call lawyers on behalf of those they arrested. It was weird, referring to him as a client, especially when I had no idea what was going on.

“No, Sir,” Officer Hart said. “He just asked that I make the call for him. Something about how you wouldn’t answer if it was him.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I could understand why he might think that, all things considered.

“I’ll be right there,” I replied and hung up. Before running out of the house, I sent a quick message to Tanya to cancel. Apparently, tonight, I was running right back to Nash after all.

CHAPTER 13

NASH

Punchingthekid?Probablynot my best idea, but fuck, it was satisfying, even if I was paying for it now. I fussed with the handcuffs that kept me secured to the table. Three broken noses and a few black eyes equaled three charges of assault. No one even gave a fuck about my side of the story. Not that I bothered to tell it. No one wanted to know what the violent homeless man had to say. I wasn’t worth it.

No, you’re not,the voice agreed.

I groaned and let my head fall to the table. Napping in an interrogation room didn’t look good—I knew that—but we all knew I was guilty of beating their asses. They were lucky I hadn’t done more damage, especially considering I could have. I was trained to do a hell of a lot worse. I might as well have used the time to take a nap in a warm space for a while.