by Lexi Blake
“I’m not lying.” But even as he said the words he realized he’d done exactly what she’d said. “It doesn’t matter, Hayley. I’m leaving and it’s for your own good.”
“This is not about my good. This is about your fear. Don’t do this to us. Couples face things together. They take the risk. Anything could happen. I get that it’s dangerous out there for me right now, but it doesn’t help to break us up.”
It wouldn’t do any good to point out to her that she was in more danger with him than she was without him.
“I’m leaving, Hayley. It’s already set and nothing you do or say is going to change my mind. We aren’t a couple and we never were.”
“Then what was all that bullshit about being your sub? About having a connection between us?”
“A lie to get between your legs again,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes, an expression of pure disgust. “Try again, because I still don’t believe you. The one thing I do believe is that Desiree did get the best of you. She got the Nick who was bold and brave. She got the Nick who walked into a Moscow bar and posted a sign telling everyone that he was coming after them so no one was mistakenly accused. That’s the Nicky I fell in love with. This one in front of me is a shell of his former self. That Nicky could have been my man.”
It was his cue to leave, but not without making a few things plain. “I’ll stay downstairs tonight. In the morning, I’ll pick up what I need. Feel free to stay here. I won’t need the flat. This is your home until the case is solved. Brody will be by in the morning. Listen to him.”
He reached the door and opened it, understanding this would be the last time he would see her. He turned and took her in again, wanting to memorize every inch of her. She was standing in the middle of his living room, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face, and she was still the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.
“Do you honestly believe you can dump me like this and I’ll behave like a good girl? If you think that for an instant, then I’ve given a poor account of myself.”
Something about the way she was standing, the glint in her eyes, made him stop. Yeah, she wanted to challenge him? He could go a few rounds. He could prove to her who her Master was.
He didn’t have that right anymore.
“I think you’re going to do as you’re told.”
“And how are you going to stop me? You’ll be somewhere in Russia.”
“I have my ways.” He had Brody, but what exactly could Brody do if she decided to walk out? They couldn’t keep her tied up. Could they? He would do it for her own good, but what would Damon think? He might still have more work to do. “You will not be allowed to leave. I’ll come back in the morning when you’re more rational.”
“Oh, I’m crazy now? You know, I get that you’re scared, but you’re doing a damn fine job of pissing me off. You want to talk? You want to show me the error of my ways? Stay here. Fight with me. Don’t run off like a fucking coward.”
“Don’t you curse at me.” She was pushing his every button and he found himself stalking back into the room so he could tower over her. Anger rushed through him. Anger at her for challenging him, anger at the fucking world for not being what he needed it to be. Anger at himself for putting them both in this position where they couldn’t be together. It cracked through him, looking for a vent.
He could think of a good one. He could get her on her back, get his mouth on her, and then she wouldn’t be spouting curses at him.
“Then stop being a coward and sit your ass down and talk to me,” she continued. “Be the man I know you can be. Give me what you gave her—the bold lover, the one who doesn’t stop, who never gives up.”
It made him still in his tracks. That bold Nick, the one who hadn’t stopped…he was also the one who lost the women he cared about. He was the one who’d lost his sister and who hadn’t protected Des.
He couldn’t do this with her. Not now. “Stay here. Don’t you dare leave this room. Like I said, I’ll be back in the morning. We’ll talk more then. You’ll see you’re being very foolish. You’re acting like a child and it’s past time for you to grow up. Think about that tonight and hopefully you’ll see I’m right.”
Even when he heard her call his name, he didn’t turn this time. He closed the door behind him and then damn near ran to the lift.
What the hell had happened? She’d said she loved him, had always loved him. It made his heart swell and then break because he couldn’t give her what she deserved. He couldn’t be the Nicky he’d been because his past was right here, threatening them all.
Unless he took up Taggart on his offer.
He needed a drink. He needed to think. It went against everything inside of him to be beholden to a gangster.
But would that be worse than never seeing Hayley again? Never holding her again?
Was he going to leave her to some nameless, faceless man? Who knew what that man might do to her? Maybe he would love her or maybe he would hurt her, cheat on her, and make her life an unmitigated hell.
The lift door opened and Brody was standing there. His eyes widened as he took in Nick.
“Brother, you look like you could use a drink.”
“I think I might be making a terrible mistake.” He could feel it deep in his gut.
Brody held the lift door open for him. “Come on then. We’ll talk it out over a pint or five. If you love Hayley, maybe you should think about staying.”
“What happened to you telling me I was doing the right thing?”
“That was before I saw that look on your face, mate.”
Nick stepped into the lift, his whole soul dragging. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t be the same again.
* * * *
Hayley finished stuffing the last of her measly possessions in the backpack she’d found at the back of Nick’s closet. Not that it had been hard to find. The man owned next to nothing. His whole flat was spartan, as though he couldn’t stand to have anything extra, nothing more than what was required to survive.
Nick was a man who cut loose all the extra weight, and she’d been deemed unnecessary.
She stood up and took a deep breath. No. That wasn’t what he was doing. That was her insecurity talking and she was done listening. Nick was being a martyr and she hadn’t been able to talk him out of it. She had two choices in front of her. She could weep and moan and sit back, waiting for someone else to save her.
Or she could do what she’d told him she would do. She could move on and find something good for herself, starting with finding her father and getting to the bottom of the mess he’d undoubtedly had a hand in creating.
She’d made her play, put all her cards out on the table, and she’d lost. She’d meant what she’d said. Maybe she’d been harsh, but it was true. She wanted the Nick who would fight for her, who would hold her hand until the end and never let go because wherever she went, that was where he would be. She would have been that kind of a partner to him, but he didn’t want that. He wanted a good girl who stayed in her place and didn’t cause him trouble.
She needed to cause a whole lot of trouble.
But that meant getting the hell out of England, and there was only one way that was happening.
She glanced at herself in the mirror, the image stopping her in her tracks.
Who was she? She’d considered herself a bit mousy all her life, but when she looked back with a critical eye, she saw something else. She’d been dragged across the globe, never staying in one place for too long. It had made it difficult for her to form strong friendships, but it had also made her resilient. How many other college kids could have moved to a city where they hadn’t known anyone and made it all work with very little help? Her mother had been gone at that point and her father only showed up from time to time. After the debacle of her twentieth year and the complete end of her relationship with Des and Nick, she’d been on her own.
And she’d made it work.
She’d built a
home and a life for herself. She could do it again, but this time she wouldn’t hide away, wouldn’t lose herself completely in her work. This time she would understand that Nick had closed a door and he wouldn’t reopen it. This time she would move on because he’d shown her that she needed love and affection and she was worthy of it.
She touched the heart at her throat. Walt had given her back the red and gold Venetian glass heart after putting it back together. He had what he needed, he’d told her. At the time, she’d tossed the damn thing on the dresser, promising herself she’d throw it out when she was ready. And yet she’d found herself putting it on before she’d packed.
That heart was a piece of her, acknowledgment of her history. She wasn’t broken by the past. She was made strong by it. Sometimes moving forward was the decision a person could make.
The woman in the mirror was deserving of more than she’d given herself. It was time to stop doubting and start living.
If she survived the next few days.
God, she was going to miss him. It was right there, the impulse to go downstairs, find him and beg him to change his mind.
Hayley picked up the backpack. She had to ignore that impulse because she was out of time. She was certain no one would hold her prisoner here, but she could also see all the ways they could force her to stay of her own free will. Namely they could smile, open the door, and wish her well. Oh, she was fairly certain that if she started out the door she would find someone dragging her back in, so it was best to do things her own way.
As Ezra had said, a reluctant partner wasn’t one she could trust.
Could she trust Fain? She was betting a whole lot that she could.
She settled the backpack on her shoulder and made her way to the door.
Damn it. She pulled the backpack off her shoulders. How would she explain it if someone caught her walking around the halls? It would be easy to say she was heading down to the kitchen to grab a sandwich or something, but these weren’t unobservant people. These were the best of the best and they would wonder why she needed a backpack to get a sandwich.
Fuck a duck, she was going to have to do what she’d done before. She was going to start again with absolutely nothing but the clothes on her back.
She stashed the backpack with a sigh before going back to the door, opening it and heading out to the hallway. She could hear the heavy thud of music drifting up from down below. She took the risk, edging to the railing and glancing down. From this high, mostly she could see green plants and the ghostly illumination of lights from below, but she did catch a glimpse of Brody Carter striding down a path, two bottles in his hand.
At least Nick had something to do tonight.
Would he miss her? Or would he be so angry that she’d defied him, he went back home without a backward glance? Either way it was the last time she would see him.
God, she hoped he found someone who could make him happy, someone he could love enough to take the risk on.
She turned and found the stairs, jogging down, careful to listen for the sounds of anyone who might be hanging around at this time of night. Charlotte and Ian were on their mission. The rest were likely playing in the dungeon. She prayed Ezra Fain had taken the night off, prepping for his early morning flight.
She eased into the hallway, breezing past the cameras. She had complete run of the building and she’d been down on this floor several times. No one had come running to stop her.
The key, her father had taught her all those years ago, was to act like you belonged. People see what they want to see, what they think is normal. Give that to them and most won’t look past the surface.
At the time she’d thought he was teaching her about poker. Now she realized he’d been teaching her about his life, the way he lived.
The hall was quiet, her footsteps the only sound with the exception of the music in the distance. She eased up to the room where the CIA agent was supposed to be and knocked quietly.
What the hell was she going to do if he was somewhere in the dungeon? She couldn’t go into The Garden in street clothes, and Nick would spot her in fet wear. Someone would certainly ask him why his sub was running around looking for Ezra Fain.
She couldn’t simply sit here either. Her mind was racing, going through all the scenarios, when the door opened and a sleepy-eyed Fain was standing there wearing nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. The dude worked out. Hard.
He’d been frowning as the door opened, but a smile spread across his handsome face as he took her in. “You ready then? Come inside. My lovely roommates are all out in the dungeon for the night so it’s safe for us to talk.”
She nodded, entering the room and trying to ignore the ache in her heart. “I don’t have any ID. Hell, I don’t have any clothes.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have everything waiting for us when we get to where we’re going,” he assured her as he closed the door. “And ID isn’t a problem. I’ve got a team who can have proper papers waiting for us before we get to the airport. A private one. No Heathrow for us. We’re going to Rio in style.” He seemed much more awake now.
“Rio?”
“It’s where I believe your father went after he left Seattle.”
So she was going to Brazil. She’d never been to Brazil, likely because of the country’s strict laws on gambling. There were no glittering casinos her father could work to gain some quick cash. Luckily, she knew how her dad operated. He might not have been there before, but he would find the illegal games. She simply had to figure out who to ask. Of course, there was another issue, a far more pressing one. “But how are we going to get out? I’m pretty sure Nick left instructions that I wasn’t supposed to leave.”
The small smile became a full-fledged, arrogant, only-a-little-sexy smirk. Okay, she wasn’t dead. It was a lot sexy, but she was swearing off spies for a while. “Leave that to me. Give me ten minutes and we’re out of here, partner.”
She watched as he disappeared into what had to be the bathroom. As she found a place to sit and wait, she tried to forget that she’d seen the last of her Nicky.
Chapter Sixteen
“Wake up, buddy. It’s time to rise and shine and face the consequences of your many poor choices from last night, some more unexpected than others.”
Nick heard the wretchedly sarcastic voice, but he tried to ignore it. It was so much nicer to stay in his happy place. He was with Hayley and she cuddled up against him, her dark hair spread over his chest while she slept. She was warm, her silky flesh a blanket for him to curl up against.
Ya tebya lyublyu, dushka, he whispered to her. Softly, so he didn’t wake her. She needed her sleep. He’d been rough with her the night before, but he’d needed her so badly.
“I think you should take over, Damon. He says he loves me and called me some Russian thing. I get it. I’m super hot and I’m not offended at all, but if he grabs my balls, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Ian, I have no idea how your wife puts up with you,” a familiar voice said. “Nikolai, wake up. We have a problem.”
He blinked, pain slamming into his brain in an instant. The room was far too bright, the sounds too loud.
“Yeah, there you go. That’s what happens when you drink a fifth of vodka.” Taggart stood over him, his hand on his hips and a smile on his face that could only be described as judgmental. “Imagine how your liver feels.”
Fuck. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was opening the vodka bottle after Brody had gone to bed. He’d tried to get Nick to sleep on his couch, but Nick had other things to do. Like pass out.
His back spasmed and he forced himself to sit up. He was in the kitchen, leaning over one of the tables, his body bent in two. And there was something on his head. He swatted it away.
“Sorry, apparently Kay thought you needed a hat. She made one out of a napkin and decorated you during breakfast this morning. I can’t believe you managed to sleep through that,” Damon explained. “Y
ou’re lucky I got in here before the lads did or I fear it could have been much worse. Can you stomach some tea?”
“Coffee, please.” He needed something strong. Super strong.
Who would get Hayley’s coffee? He hadn’t managed to get a coffeemaker delivered so she would wake up to bottled water and some energy drinks. She liked coffee in the morning. A shot of cream with two sugars. When he would pass the mug to her, she would wrap her hands around it and breathe in the scent, her whole face lighting up.
Had she come down here to get a cup and seen him laid out in all his misery? Had she found him so pathetic that she was happy he was leaving soon?
Was he leaving?
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Last night while he drank, he’d thought about all the ways his plan could go wrong. There were a million and one horrible scenarios, and in every case there was a simple solution.
Hayley could get free of all this nonsense. She could live out her life alone and never find love again.
Hayley could get free and she could marry an unworthy man, one who couldn’t love her the way Nick did. One who could abuse her, and she would have no family or friends to defend her because Nick would be dead in a back alley.
The case could go to hell and she would be stuck here. She would be stubborn and with no one to watch her, she would be careless and thrown in jail or taken by the men looking for her.
He could go on and on with the horrors that plagued him, but during the night he’d realized there was a simple solution that fixed them all.
He stayed with her and made sure nothing bad happened.
“I want to talk to Denisovitch. I need him to fix my situation.” The words felt heavy in his mouth, but he forced them out. “I’ll do what he asks of me, but I would like to know what he will want in advance.”
Not that it would change his mind. He simply wanted to be prepared for what would come. He was going to do this. He would do it for her. He would do it for them.
