by Abbi Glines
I walked over to the overnight bag sitting on the vanity in the bathroom and pulled out the disk holding my birth-control pills. Yesterday morning, I hadn’t remembered to take one, or I’d forgotten on purpose. I was beginning to believe the latter. This morning, I’d chosen to conveniently forget again. With a small release, the pills fell into the silver trash can, to be left and forgotten.
It wasn’t a sure thing, but it was all I had left. A chance to have a piece of him with me always. I’d never love another man the way I loved him. No one else would fit me so perfectly. So I was doing what many would think was wrong, low, sneaky, or cruel. I didn’t care. I wanted a child. I wanted his child. If I was lucky enough to get pregnant with his baby, then I’d adore it and give it the love I never had.
The world could suck it. This was my choice. Our child would be loved more than any child on this planet. There was nothing wrong with me having that.
If there was, I just didn’t care.
Cope
She had checked out more than two hours ago, but the room still held her scent. I stood staring at the bed, remembering how she’d looked as she slept, how she’d felt tucked in my arms. This was how it had to end.
I had the information I needed, and I knew it was the truth. She’d told me all she knew. It was time we moved on. Franco Livingston hadn’t tried to contact her, nor had she tried to reach him in the months we’d had her under surveillance. She hadn’t known she was messing with a crime lord when she’d spent time with him. She was clear.
The thing I hadn’t expected was the pain in the center of my chest. Or maybe I had. Nan had become a part of me even before I touched her for the first time. Watching her, I’d slowly started feeling things for the beautiful woman who was so alone yet so tough. The small things no one saw I began to cherish.
Walking away from her was like ripping off my own limbs and tossing them away, yet it had to be done. I had no place in my life for a woman. Especially one like Nan. Someone who needed to be loved properly.
I wasn’t a whole man. I was a twisted bastard with a dark side, not meant to touch the softness of a woman like her, and yet I had. She’d embraced the evil that leaked from my soul as if she wanted to be closer to the darkness. No one had ever opened to me like that, so full of trust and need. She had come to me. Me. She had chosen me.
This would be the last time I’d smell her. This room would hold the last memories I would have of her. I wanted to go curl up on that damn bed and soak in what traces of her remained. My heart had started beating again because of Nan.
I picked up the pillow I’d left her sleeping on and inhaled it, not willing to let it go. If I had stayed one moment longer, I’d have never been able to leave. But she didn’t need me. She needed more than what I could offer.
I wanted Nan to get her fairy tale. The one she had built in her imagination as a child in her secret garden. Where a man would save her and give her the dreams she held close. The dreams a man like me couldn’t make come true.
One day, she’d get what she wanted. There was so much beauty in her soul that even she didn’t see. The smart mouth and flashing temper weren’t all there was to Nan. The man who saw through these things to the beauty within would be given the gift I wouldn’t allow myself to touch.
There was nothing left of hers to take with me. No note or memento. I scanned the room for anything left behind, then walked over to the silver trash can and saw a small plastic disk. Bending down, I reached inside and pulled it out.
I knew without opening it what was inside, but I opened it nonetheless.
It took several moments, as I stood motionless, staring down at the pills in my hand, before the realization dawned on me. I couldn’t get angry. I tried to feel violated in some way, but none of that could even begin to take root.
All I knew was that it wasn’t over. In approximately four weeks, I’d go back to visit Nan. This wasn’t the end after all.
A lightness in my chest eased some of the ache, as foolish at that might be, and I slipped the pills into my pocket, thinking that maybe fate would change my path anyway.
Nan
The flight home had been lonely and painful. I wouldn’t be going back to Las Vegas again. That was it. I’d never be able to look at that city the same way. It kept a piece of my heart that I hadn’t been able to take when I’d walked out of that suite. I took the memories, and it took something more.
At least my house held no memories of my time with Gannon. He’d only come to me in my dreams here. I fought the urge to run to my room and go to bed in hopes that he would visit. Even though deep down, I knew that, too, was gone.
My heart had been crushed, and with it my dreams. I was officially broken. Every past sin I’d committed, every hurtful word I’d spoken, every cruel action I had taken were coming back around. This was my payback. This was me reaping what I had sown. All those I’d wronged would believe I deserved all the pain and sorrow eating me alive, and they’d be right. I did. This was my penance, and either I’d survive it or it would destroy me.
Either way, I knew there was no one out there to care. I wasn’t a favorite child, sibling, or friend to anyone. I was tolerated. It was the life I’d made for myself, and now I had to live it.
Four weeks later
Running had taken over my life. I did it every morning when I woke up to ease the emptiness, I did it every afternoon to overcome the loneliness, and then I did it again at night hoping I’d get lost and this would all end. It was how I’d coped for the past four weeks.
This morning, however, was different. I’d gotten up to run but ran to the bathroom to vomit instead. Surprisingly, I’d felt better afterward, so I had gone to drink some orange juice and make an egg-white sandwich to have with some Greek yogurt. But when I had smelled the egg cooking, my stomach had soured, and I’d once again run to the bathroom to vomit.
I stood in the kitchen now, staring at the stove as if it were my enemy, although I was hungry. I wanted my yogurt, but the egg scared me. Covering my nose, I dashed to grab my yogurt, then hurried for the door to get out of the house and away from the smell of egg, because as of this morning, I hated that smell.
Jerking my front door open, I screamed in surprise, then froze, staring up into a face I hadn’t seen in a long time. One I had never expected to see again. I couldn’t think of one good reason for him to be here or how he had gotten here or how he knew where I lived.
There was no joy in this reunion. I’d never expected there to be. The concern that he would one day come after me had always been tucked inside, but I’d ignored it. Until now. I’d have to face this. Hiding wasn’t an option.
“Franco?” His name fell from my lips easily enough, but his face wasn’t welcome. I’d left him in Paris. Where he needed to be. A small knot of fear settled inside me, as a million reasons ran through my head for why this man was at my house almost a year after I’d seen him last.
“Hello, Nan. You look, ah, unwell, actually. Are you doing OK?” The smooth, cultured timbre of his voice had once intrigued me. Now I was frightened of it. I knew there was more to him than a pretty face and wealth. He was dangerous. He wasn’t here because he missed me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, wishing I had my phone on me so I could call Rush. He knew about Franco and why I’d run away from him. It had been a mistake in my past that I wasn’t sure I could ever overcome. As much as I tried to pretend this man was just a casual fling, my secret was that I knew things I didn’t want to know. Things that could very likely get me killed.
“I missed you, bella.” He used the endearment he’d used with me when he’d brought me into his world without me knowing.
“No, Franco, you didn’t. You were bored with me. You said so yourself. So why are you here?” I asked, wishing I’d curbed the sass in my voice, because this man wasn’t just anyone. He was a psycho. A cruel smile curled his lips, and I knew that meant pain would soon follow. Maybe I would vomit on him. Or get him sic
k. Franco with a stomach virus sounded appealing yet almost impossible. He was untouchable.
“You’re alone. I’ve watched you.” He took a step toward me, and I wanted to run away, but I stood firm. Moving would give him access to my home. And would give him privacy with me.
“Rush is on his way to take me to breakfast,” I lied.
Franco laughed and shook his head, as the evil gleam in his eyes sent shivers down my spine. “No, dear, he’s not. He’s at the country club with his sweet little family having breakfast. I cover my bases. You know that.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I needed a plan. “What do you want with me?” I asked, facing my fear. I had no other escape.
Franco ran his thumb over his chin in a tight pinch that I remembered and hated. “The same thing I wanted the last time we met, bella. Take me to meet Daddy Dearest,” he said, in the demanding smooth drawl that made me want to spit in his face.
Kiro. He wanted to meet Kiro. He wanted a drug connection with Kiro that would give him some power I didn’t understand or want to understand. All I knew was that Franco had most of the music industry in the U.K. in his back pocket in the drug world that had made him a wealthy man. He now wanted into the U.S. market, and he wanted my father as his ticket in.
When he’d found out who my father was, he’d come after me to charm me before showing me the ugliness of his world. Once I’d realized how deep into his life I’d sunk, it was too late. Running from him had been terrifying, but with Rush’s help, I’d gotten away.
“Kiro doesn’t use anymore. I told you that.” Which was true. He’d cleaned up and started spending all his time with his wife, Harlow’s mother, who was completely dependent on constant care because of brain damage caused by a car accident years ago.
Franco laughed, throwing his head back as if I were hilarious. I waited until his insane laughter ended. “I’m serious. He’s not even touring anymore. Haven’t you noticed that?”
Franco leaned closer to me, and I swallowed hard, trying not to whimper. “I don’t give a fuck. I want you to introduce me. That’s all I’m asking, Nanette.”
“No,” I replied, without thinking through how he would react to my refusal.
His hand wrapped around my upper arm as he jerked me against his body until his face was in mine. “Yes, you will, or I’ll take you inside this house and slice off one long, pretty finger at a time while you scream and bleed all over the expensive floors. When you finally have had enough, I’ll get it from you and end your pathetic existence with a single bullet. Right”—he placed his middle finger on the spot between my eyebrows—“here.”
“Step away from her, or I’ll put a single bullet through the back of your motherfucking head.” Major’s voice came from nowhere, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I was actually dreaming all this. The vomiting? Franco? Major? This was all getting more unbelievable by the moment.
Franco’s eyes narrowed. He glared down at me as if this was my fault. I was as confused as he was. Major wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d run off and left town more than a month ago without a good-bye. Not that I’d expected one. I hadn’t left things with him on good terms.
Franco moved, and I screamed as a shot was fired, just before Franco cursed and turned away from me to face Major.
Major
Franco’s gun fell to the ground as he grabbed his bleeding hand. I was a sure shot. If I wasn’t, I’d never have fired that close to Nan. Knowing he was about to press a gun against Nan had been the only warning I needed to stop his ass. I wasn’t waiting for a better time. The arrogant fool had come here alone. Thinking he didn’t need his bodyguard and a posse of firearms surrounding him.
Bad move, Franco. Bad fucking move. I might have been reassigned by DeCarlo, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I’d gotten a lead on Franco once he entered the States, and I knew he would be headed this way. So I waited. This was my assignment, and I was seeing it through.
Franco shoved Nan back one-handed, with enough force to cause her to fall. That pissed me off. She hadn’t done shit to this coldhearted bastard. So when he turned to face me, I aimed at his shoulder. I didn’t want to kill him easy. I preferred that he bleed to fucking death in pain with the several bullet holes I placed in him. The man had raped young girls and sold their bodies to the highest bidder. He deserved a painful death for what he’d done.
“What the fuck?” he roared as he faced me.
I didn’t reply. I shot his right shoulder, and he cursed and fell back on his ass from the impact.
“OHMYGOD!” Nan screamed as she scrambled backward.
I looked toward her for one second and gave her a nod to assure her before shifting my attention back to the man on the ground. He’d reach for his phone soon, and I needed to make sure I shot that, too. No help was coming for Franco. Not today.
Walking slowly toward him, I watched as he held his shoulder with his bleeding hand and rolled back and forth in pain. It was entertaining to watch. I never thought of myself as a cruel, hard man, but when faced with someone who deserved death, I realized I enjoyed meting out the punishment. Captain had been right when he’d said I was cut out for this.
“You OK, Nan?” I called out, keeping my eyes locked on Franco as I approached him.
“Yes,” she replied, sounding more than frantic. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to kill this bastard until they come get him,” I replied calmly. Franco stared up at me with a mix of pain and hatred in his eyes. “But I’ll kill him if he fucks with me,” I finished.
“Who is coming to get him? The police? He’s a drug lord, Major. A very, very dangerous one. You don’t know what you’ve just walked into.”
So she did know. Interesting. Nan had known about Franco, yet she’d fooled both Cope and me. Had to hand it to her, she was good at covering. I’d never have guessed she had any idea who Franco actually was.
“You fooled us, Nan. Kudos,” I said in all honesty. “Now, get your phone and call Cope, sweetheart. Tell him exactly what just happened.”
“Who?” she asked, frowning, and I realized my mistake.
“My bad. Gannon. Call Gannon,” I replied. “He still has the phone you have the number to. I’d bet my left nut on it.”
Nan didn’t move. I could feel her staring at me, and I wondered why she didn’t already know all this. I had left her the damn note. Why was she so confused?
“The cameras, Nan. The note I left you. About Cope. I mean Gannon. Shit, Nan, just call him. If this bastard moves, I’m gonna have to shoot him again, and I’d rather he not bleed out until Cope gets here.”
Franco moved slightly, and I aimed at his knee and shot, just because I wanted to hear him scream. Nan screamed with him. The distance between Nan’s house and her neighbors would mask the gunshots, thanks to the sounds of the Gulf, but I wasn’t sure for how long. Eventually, someone was going to hear the commotion.
Nan jumped up and ran to get her phone—I hoped. If she called the police, this was going to be harder to explain. Cope would be pissed, too. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my own phone. I’d better handle it. Every number I had for any of them was now disconnected. Except, of course, Captain’s. I had a feeling Captain was the only reason they’d let me live. When I hadn’t gone to Mexico and no one came after me, I knew it was all thanks to Captain.
“Yeah,” Captain said on the other end of the line.
“I’ve got Franco bleeding out at my feet on Nan’s front doorsteps. Let Cope know,” I said, then disconnected the call and slipped my phone back into my pocket. Looking back down at Franco, I smiled. “Cope’s the man who will eventually kill you. I’m just the welcoming committee. He’s a crazy-ass son of a bitch. Can’t say I like him much, but I like him more than I like your sorry ass.”
Franco moved, lightly moaning, and I made a tsking sound.
“Unless you want me to shoot your other knee, I’d hold the fuck still. After that, I’m blowing your balls off, and that’s where
I should have started, you sick fuck. Messing with kids.”
“He didn’t answer,” Nan said, standing at the door with her phone in her hand, looking terrified and as pale as a ghost.
“It’s OK, I called. You go inside and drink some juice or something. This will be over soon enough.”
“I called Rush.” She sounded as if she regretted it already. Like a child telling on herself.
Shit. Rush didn’t need to be in on this. “Fine. I’ll handle him when he gets here. Go inside away from this, and stay safe. You’ll have to answer questions when Cope gets here. The surveillance and all, remember?”
She frowned at me, still looking confused and terrified. “What surveillance?” she asked.
Sighing, I lifted my gaze from Franco again, and this time, I frowned at her. “The note I wrote to you and put on your counter explaining everything before I left town. Warning you about the cameras and Gannon and shit.”
She continued to frown. “Huh?”
Franco moved, and I finally got to shoot him in the balls. His scream made me laugh. “Guess you won’t try to move again,” I quipped, highly amused.
Nan
Too much didn’t make sense. But I’d pinched myself about five times, trying to wake up, and I finally accepted that I was completely awake. Major had just shot Franco several times on my front porch. Major knew Gannon, but he called him Cope. And there was surveillance somewhere here? I was so confused.
I was also about to get sick again. Running to the nearest toilet, I regretted having called Rush. He didn’t need to be mixed up in this. This was my mistake, not his, and Major had a gun. As had Franco, until Major shot it out of his hand. Hitting my already bruised knees, I winced and then held my hair as I began dry-heaving into the toilet.
“Nan!” Rush’s voice rang through the house, and I waited another second to be sure the heaving was done, before flushing the toilet and standing up.
I didn’t have the energy to respond to him yet. Splashing cold water onto my clammy skin, I inhaled deeply, then turned to walk out of the powder room to see my brother searching for me with a frantic look on his face.
