They’d been too young, and in the end it tore them apart. He couldn’t even recall what the fight had been about––no doubt his lack of a ‘respectable’ job. He’d been working at a local garage at the time––all he did remember was getting up to answer the door, only to see two uniforms on the other side. Devastated, blaming himself, he spent the next couple of months shit-faced drunk. Coming out of an alcohol-induced daze one day he saw a poster for enlisting in the marines. Not caring much whether he lived or died at that point, he’d signed up. They sent him to Lackland Airforce Base in San Antonio, where he met Jake. They’d been inseparable ever since.
The searing pressure eased enough for him to open his eyes. Jake sat with his head cocked to the side, his ears laid back in commiseration. Nick nudged him with his knee and gave his sides a good hard rub, Jake groaning his thanks. “Okay, big guy, what do you say to finishing our run?” He’d learned a long time ago that pushing through the pain was often the best medicine.
He had that in common with Sara. She’d gone through both a physical and a mental trauma that would have crushed most. She was doing great, but he bet a violation like that was something from which no woman ever fully recovered.
It humbled him that she had trusted him enough to allow him to make love to her last night. Nick would never hurt a hair on her head, but there was no real way for her to be sure of that. He hoped and prayed no one would ever crush her again, and swore to do everything in his power to make sure of that, starting with Sheridan. If those files contained half of what Sara had intimated they did, he’d need some help. Checking to make sure no one was around, he pulled his cell out of his sweats and made the call.
“Hey, Chief, how are you? It’s Nick, Nickolaus Kelley. Long time, sir, too long. Shit, I’ve missed the team. How’s the whizz kid?” A big grin split his face as he listened to Frank describing Jared’s latest and greatest.
“No kidding, trust Ford to take the term, Land of opportunity, to a whole new level right?” He laughed. Man it was good to talk to the chief again. Why did people always let the important ones in their lives fall to the wayside, while they went about the business of life?
He could well believe Jared had almost shut down the strip; the man was scary good with electronics. “I understand that you’re out of the loop these days, sir, but I was hoping I could ask you, and Jared if he’s still with you, for a helping hand. I have a situation here and could really use your input.”
Relief coursed through his veins at the quick response to his plea. “I’ll tell you all about it when you arrive. Tomorrow then, and thanks—Frank.”
***
After their breakfast of champions, fresh grilled cinnamon buns and hot, black coffee, Grace left Sara’s to get the restaurant up and running and Tess said she was going over to her sister’s. No doubt to try and get the dirt on last night from Ty. Shaking her head, Sara picked up the cups and carried them over to the sink. Glancing out the back window to check on Jess, she was surprised to see Nick still there. He and Jessica were tossing the baseball.
Nick was pointing out her in painstaking detail, how to grip the ball, and then the correct posture to take before making that all-important throw. Sara’s heart swelled until she could barely contain it watching the two of them playing together. The dog ran in circles while the sun shone down, banishing shadows and seemingly placing a protective shield around them.
This. This is how a family should be. Tom had certainly never taken time out of his precious days to stop and play ball with his little girl, and although that was his loss, in a very real way it was also Jessica’s.
Even though they had only known Nick for a few short weeks, he’d become more of a father to Jess than her own ever was. Listening to their joined laughter, Sara wished things could be different. He hadn’t said, but she had the sense that it hadn’t been easy for him as a child, either. As if he sensed her gaze upon him he stilled in the middle of all the chaos that was child and dog, and turning toward her dropped the ball he’d been holding to stride across the green grass toward the back door, followed by his entourage. A sunbeam infused him in a warm glow, and though he was certainly no angel, to her he was undoubtedly divine.
Turning away, Sara dabbed at her eyes and fixed a welcoming smile upon her lips just as Jess burst through the doorway talking a mile a minute.
“Mom, guess what? Nick showed me how to throw a curve ball. He said that I could strike anybody out with it. Can I join a baseball team?”
“We’ll see, honey. Now go wash up, and I’ll make us all some breakfast.” Sara wished more than anything that Jessica could join a ball team. Be like other normal kids. She knew they couldn’t keep running. It was hurting them just as much, in its own way, as staying in that monolith of a house with Tom had ever done.
Nick came through the doorway and raised his brow upon seeing Jessica’s little shoulders hunched over as she headed down the hall. Sara shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile.
“What’s up?”
“It’s nothing, she’ll be fine. Want some of my world famous waffles?” As he came close, she breathed in the fresh, clean, spicy scent radiating off his skin, and almost moaned. It took her straight back to his darkened living room of the night before. All she’d done. To him.
Suddenly shy, she turned toward the stove but he caught her chin in his sun-warmed fingers and lifted her head to his.
“Hi.” His beautiful voice rumbled a soft greeting.
“Hi, back,” she whispered just before he sealed their lips together. He kept the kiss tender, sweet. Her eyes slid closed, her arms wrapped around his neck and she hung on for dear life as the world spun on its axis.
A giggle had them lifting their heads, to look into Jessica’s grinning face.
“Mommy and Nick, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Nick pushing a baby carriage!” She laughed and danced around the small room, Jake trailing behind her, barking his joy with the world.
Sara smiled somewhat ruefully, and shrugged her shoulders before turning to her daughter. “Okay, brat, settle down. Nick and I were only saying hello. How about blueberry waffles for breakfast?”
“That’s not how Nick said hello to me,” Jess snickered.
“You know what, munchkin, you’re right. I knew I forgot something this morning, come here.” With that, he chased her around the house, dragging his leg, and scrunching up his shoulders in an imitation of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, as Jessica went squealing away.
Sara turned back to the stove to begin the promised meal, her heart overflowing with tenderness and warmth. She couldn’t remember the last time there had been this much laughter in their home, it filled every corner of the room, chasing away the shadows.
After sitting down together for breakfast and knowing Nick wanted answers for why she’d left the way she had the night before, Sara called Annie to see if Jessica could spend some time with Chris. As she expected, Annie was quick to agree, and drove right over.
Hugging Sara, she said, “This is perfect. Chris has been driving me crazy, he’s so bored with it being spring break and all. Jessica can stay for the day if you want, then we can both get a break!” She laughed.
“Thank you so much, Annie. I’ll repay the favor soon, okay? Jess, you listen to what Ms. Campbell tells you, and be a good girl. I’ll see you later.”
Jessica was already skipping down the sidewalk towards Chris waving from the back of Annie’s minivan. “I will, Mom, don’t worry. Chris and me are going to make a fort in the back with a bunch of old blankets. Then we can tell ghost stories. It’s going to be fun.” Jess smiled back over her shoulder before sliding the van door open and hopping in.
“Those were the days, eh, Mom?” Annie chuckled. “Okay, gotta go. See you tonight,” She looked behind Sara at Nick who’d come to stand behind her, before grinning cheekily, “or maybe tomorrow?”
Sara could feel the heat stealing into her cheeks as she glare
d at her friend. “Tonight, I’ll see you tonight.”
Annie laughed and gave a quick wave as she sprinted down the stairs, following in Jess’s tracks. “Whatever.”
Sara gazed after them until they drove out of sight, more than aware of the large male warming her back. She closed the door and began re-engaging locks, her nerves clenching at the thought of sharing what she knew. Nick’s large hands rested upon her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Guess you want to talk, right?”
He moved closer, sandwiching her between him and the door. “Yeah, we could talk.” His hands slipped down her arms and intertwined with her fingers. He slowly lifted them to bracket her head as she leaned back against the smooth wood. “Later.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tom sat in the dark car feeling like a common criminal, staking out Nirvana, the art gallery of his wife’s best friend. His half open window let in all the nighttime sounds of the city. Far away sirens screamed, counterbalanced by laughter, music, and the never-ending roar of traffic.
“Don’t be ridiculous, there’s nothing common about me.” He giggled, then glanced around to make sure no one heard him talking to himself. It should have clicked much sooner. If he had not left it up to idiots to do the searching, it probably would have. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before and would have to thank Sam when he caught up to him. And he would catch up to him, it was only a matter of time.
He was becoming more and more certain that Willets had led the rest of Tom’s men on a wild goose chase with that tip about New Mexico. He didn’t know why, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
Sam had given him one useful bit of information though. He’d said, “You know how women are, get their feelings hurt and they run to their friends. That’s probably where she is now.”
Good point, Samuel. Very good.
So now here he sat. One quick call to that dealership confirmed what he’d already guessed. The car Sara had traded in was registered to a Karl Radcliffe, the lovely Fiona’s little brother. It had only taken a short little heart-to-heart chat with him to find out Fiona had borrowed the jeep, but never returned it. Instead she’d bought him a fancy new Mustang.
After taking care of Karl he’d driven across town to the Nirvana gallery, and now he waited, fingers drumming the steering wheel, for the place to close. Socialites wandered the floors, fake smiles on their overpainted faces, glasses of bubbly in their manicured hands, the silks and satins of their dresses forming an ever-evolving rainbow of color. The rich cadence of classical music filtered through the partially opened door, probably left that way to allow fresh air into a room overwhelmed with the scent of a hundred different fragrances.
He’d once been a part of that boring crowd, though he’d never asked to be. There was more to life than who was screwing whom, or who’d lost a bundle in the stock market last week. He’d never had time for all that annoying drivel. And then came Sara.
One look into those topaz eyes and he’d fallen hard. She was different, a rare and unique butterfly amid all the moths of Boston’s high society.
They’d gone to Fiji, gotten married, and spent their honeymoon screwing like bunnies. On their return he’d brought her home to Balmoral, ready to show her off in his world. Tom tried, he really had, to refine her and teach her the demands of her new life. He bought her a complete wardrobe of acceptable clothes, got her to quit with the painting, and made sure his staff knew calls from her old friends were not welcome. Then one day, Sara came to him with news of her pregnancy, and what for her caused tears of joy, for him caused a deep ball of choking dread.
His own childhood had taught him children were only good for one thing, carrying on the linage. He wanted his to end with him. Raised by a succession of nannies with only a vague memory of his father, mommy dearest was much too busy running the family’s shipping company to have time for a lost little boy. Just as well, her rule was children were not to be seen nor heard. She’d taken great pleasure in meting out punishment using a thin leather belt on him for breaking the ordinance.
He could still see it coming at him sometimes in his dreams, a leathery black snake, unwinding at her urging, from talon-like fingers. It slithered and snapped as it flew across the room, catching him across the back when he turned to run and hide. Repeatedly, it bit into his neck and arms as he cowered into a ball in the corner, crying out he was sorry, though not sure what it was he’d done.
No, he hadn’t wanted children, and even when Sara presented him with the squalling little red bundle in the hospital, Tom had felt nothing but anxiety, a bone deep urge to run the other way. Though he knew Sara was disappointed, he quit spending time at Balmoral. He hired a nanny, and then tried to make it up to Sara by taking her out to different functions, buying her nice things. None of it helped. He felt them sliding away from each other. Angry and frustrated, he drank, and when his darling wife turned him away at night, he slept with Belinda, the new nanny.
During this time, with his personal life a mess, Tom received a commendation to the U.S Attorney’s office and the case that would change the course of his life. Ramos Guerra, a Mexican rebel leader with the Sinaloa Cartel, charged with the sale of heroin to some undercover feds. And drugs were only the tip of the iceberg for Ramos.
Under too much stress, his company floundering, Tom saw an opportunity to reinvest in the black market he had begun while overseas, and managed to get the charges dropped. Guerra, returning the favor, told him about a sweet deal on a shipment of cocaine Tom knew his contacts in Iraq would willingly pay to acquire.
Their partnership worked out well for both of them. Tom had a steady supply of weapons from his pals overseas, and with his cargo ships the means to purvey them. Ramos needed the weaponry for the ever-expanding war between the Sinaloa Cartel and their enemies, Los Zetas. The Mexicans loved their guns, and the drug trade in the Middle East was still going strong. The Sinaloa Cartel had a strong foothold in Chicago's drug and prostitution rings and Tom, through his connection with Guerra and the Iraqis, used his cargo ships for ferrying between the two countries.
It was surprisingly easy to keep his activities discreet; his job gave him the perfect cover. He began to look towards the governor’s chair, his thirst to become the best, the most powerful, coming from the dark place inside of him that begged for his mother’s approval, even though she was now long gone.
Thinking back, Tom realized he should have known everything was going unrealistically smooth. Instead, he’d taken the money and run with it. What an idiot. Then came the day of reckoning. The day he found out how little of his life he actually had control over. That same day he learned of his wife’s duplicity. He could still hear her crying her innocence, but he’d known, from the lingering excitement in her eyes and the glow on her cheeks, she’d betrayed him. She probably thought he’d left her alone after her lesson because of guilt, when the reality was much more basic than that. Sara had fallen off the pedestal Tom had placed her on. He’d thought her perfect, so to find out she was a deceitful woman, like all women, he lost all sexual interest.
He might have let her leave, if she hadn’t overheard him talking to Guerra. After that there was no turning back. She was a danger to everything he wanted to accomplish. He’d been working on a plan to have her quietly disappear when she copied his files and ran, taking her daughter with her.
The rumbling clap of thunder in the distance had him peering out the window at the gloomy, billowing clouds marching over the tops of the nearby buildings. Between flashes of forked lightning, he observed the steady flow of people as they hurried to exit Nirvana, before the softly falling tears could become a torrent, soaking their expensive finery.
Opening the door to his Lexus coupe, Tom silently slipped through the stream of humanity and entered the now nearly silent building. His senses were bombarded by a bouquet of leftover wines, the still faint scent of paint, cologne, and the musty smell of moistened dust coming through the still open door.
&nb
sp; The tinkling of fine crystal in the back room let him know where his quarry was. Perfect. He double-checked to make sure they were alone, carefully latched the door, and dropped the shades to seal themselves in before making his way to her office. There she sat, her back towards him as she ran the numbers from tonight’s little soiree. Careless of her.
Fiona Radcliffe—the bitch—with her fiery red hair and pixie-like frame, had managed to be a thorn in his side for far too long now. If not for her, his Sara would never have wandered. Ms. Radcliffe was going to wish for a set of those fairy wings before tonight was over.
“Hi honey, I’m home.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sara awoke to the raspy glide of Nick’s tongue stroking her breast where the navy blue cotton sheet had fallen away. The warmth of his solid body lying alongside hers, filled her with happiness and contentment. He’d taught her so much about her own sensuality. She’d had no idea her toes or the backs of her knees were erogenous zones. Returning the favor, she’d soon had him moaning, nibbling her way from his ear all the way south.
Erotic thoughts from earlier blended with what he was doing to her now and had her squirming as she came fully awake. Lifting her head slightly off the pillow, she became a voyeur to her own pleasure as Nick’s dark hand worked one rosy nipple, while he nipped and fondled the other.
When he noticed her attention on him, a sly grin split his face before he focused on inching his way down her body, tasting every bit of silky skin along the way. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth when Nick grasped her hand in his and brought it along on an exploration of her smooth flesh. As their combined fingers swept away years of repressed urges, Sara let go of any embarrassment as Nick proved to her that her body was gloriously made for this, and pleasure was meant to be given as well as received.
A laugh escaped, freeing the last vestiges of darkness from her soul as Nick turned onto his back and lifted her above him. She gazed into his precious face and let herself sink onto his stiffened cock, gasping at their connection.
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