Change of Heart Read Free

Nick in a while. He used to rent an apartment on the second floor of the building my dad owns. My dad occupies the entire third floor. A gourmet restaurant leases the ground floor. But Nick had abandoned his apartment a few months ago. He had taken off without any warning. He had reappeared only a few weeks ago, also without warning. The whole time he was gone, I’d waited to hear from him. I had also started going out with Ben. Now Ben was history, but Nick didn’t know that yet. Up until this very minute I’d had no idea where he was. And the last time I’d seen him, he’d told me that it was probably best if we both moved on.
    And yet here he was, standing beside my father. Nick’s jet-black hair was longish and scruffy. A jagged scar cut across his cheek, from the bridge of his nose to his right ear. He was dressed, as usual, head to toe in black. When he looked at me with his amethyst-colored eyes, he took my breath away. He always did. Had he come looking for me?
    â€œNick,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
    I didn’t mean it the way Nick obviously took it. His whole body stiffened. He turned to my father. “I’d better get to work. It’ll take a little time, okay, Mac?”
    Mac? Nick always used to call my father Mr. Hunter.
    â€œNo problem,” my father said. “And don’t forget Thursday night. You know where we’re supposed to be, right?”
    We? What was going on?
    Nick nodded. He barely glanced at me as he strode out of my dad’s office, through the enormous living space, to the front door where I stood frozen by surprise and longing. When he got close, I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. He nodded curtly at me as he passed but didn’t say a word. The door clicked shut behind me, and I heard footsteps—boot steps—going down the stairs.
    â€œWhat was he doing here?” I said.
    â€œIt’s a personal matter, Robbie.”
    â€œIs he all right?” Nick had been in plenty of trouble in his life, a lot of it involving the law. Most of the time he tried to do the right thing, but not all the time.
    â€œAs far as I can tell,” my father said.
    â€œWhat did he want?”
    â€œI told you, Robbie. It’s personal.”
    â€œWhat are you two doing on Thursday night?”
    â€œI can’t tell you that.”
    My father used to be a police officer. He was always good at keeping secrets or, as he put it, not discussing official police matters with civilians, which included me. Now that he’s retired from the police and has his own private security business, he’s even better at keeping secrets. I could threaten, I could argue, I could cry, but all I would get is, “Sorry, Robbie. No can do.”
    I hovered near the door, torn between staying and going. Nick’s footsteps grew fainter until I heard nothing at all. I dropped my backpack to the floor, kicked off my boots, and headed for my dad’s guest room, which doubles as my bedroom. I didn’t slam the door, but I did close it firmly behind me.
    It took longer than I expected—a full ten minutes—before my father knocked.
    â€œCome on, Robbie,” he said from the other side of the door. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
    I was. But I got up off the bed and opened the door anyway.
    â€œHe’s not in trouble, if that’s what’s bothering you,” my dad said.
    It wasn’t.
    â€œDid he ask about me?”
    My dad looked me directly in the eye. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Robbie.”
    So was I.
    â€œI have to run out and get some groceries,” my dad said. “You want to help me make dinner?”
    I said okay, even though food was the last thing on my mind.
    My dad shopped. We cooked. We ate. We cleaned up. Then Morgan called.
    â€œYou have to do something for me,” she said. “You have to talk to Billy. You have to make him