“Vinnie’s dead.”
She’d reared back, blinking quickly. Sorrow had slashed through her, deep and aching. Bree had never suspected she’d feel this way, not for a man who had become a stranger in the three years they’d been married, not for a man who had blackmailed her all that time with her own secret.
Then she’d realized the heavyheartedness she experienced related to Nick’s suffering for his beloved son not just for her own loss.
Now, Bree shook her head, sweeping aside the haunting memories as Nick soothed the rest of Sydney’s fears. But the lingering despair stayed. What would I ever do without Nick?
Dawning hit, cold and harsh; she could very well discover that horror someday. He was still a cop and might be gunned down, also.
Losing Vinnie left a well of guilt and a mountain of regrets. With startling clarity, Bree knew losing Nick would devastate her.
It would destroy Sydney and me and nothing could ever make us whole again.
Had she made a terrible mistake by marrying Nick and jeopardizing Sydney’s well-being once again? A ripping pain tore her heart in two.
Oh God, what have I done?
***
Forty minutes later, Bree leaned against a hospital corridor wall. The pale blue color reminded her of a robin’s egg. The glaring fluorescent light hurt her eyes, nudging the pain throbbing in her head.
The muted conversations at the end of the hallway jabbed at her eardrums. Heartache for what she’d done by marrying another cop, what she should have prevented her daughter from reliving, resided in every fiber of her being, terrorizing her.
In spite of her physical discomfort and emotional trauma, relief shot through Bree at the doctor’s diagnosis: Several minor lacerations and two deep ones that required stitches, but not long lasting damage.
Thank heavens she didn’t lose a lot of blood. A niggling fear, rooted in the past, prodded her conscience.
She squashed it down and centered her thoughts on how grateful she was for Sydney’s escape from worse harm.
She always comes first, remember that and I’ll never make a mistake again, not like when I married Vinnie. But I already have…
She willed away that nagging suspicion, that petrifying realization she’d put Sydney at risk.
Bree gulped in a breath. The antiseptic scent, sharp and persistent, made her queasy and light-headed. The death smell, Bree recalled the nickname she’d given that particular odor nearly eighteen years ago when her father had died.
Numerous trips to the hospital for her ill mother followed, imprinting images of suffering so indelibly on her mind that they rushed back every time she stepped foot in a hospital since. Losing Vinnie added to the horror and Nana’s death, so recent, had brought on the demon attacks once again.
Sydney had been right when she’d claimed that people don’t come home from these places. Thankfully, Nick had reminded them that some good did exist here.
“You look like you’re going to be sick on me.” Nick’s softly spoken words pulled Bree away from the haunting past.
She smiled weakly at him as he drew near, a hollow ache throbbing behind her rib cage. Inhaling, she detected his male scent and clung to that familiar fragrance, trying to expunge the sterile odor of the building and the careening doubts about him and his profession.
The heat of his body encompassed her and warmed the cold recesses in her middle. “I hate hos-pa-doodles, too.”
He grinned at the nickname, and then shuddered. “Me, three.”
“Is Sydney all right?” she asked, frowning.
Nick shook his head and dragged a hand down his face. “That bubbly nurse that took care of her is giving her a first rate tour. And your daughter is loving every minute of it. Sydney’s even considering adding being a nurse to her long list of careers when she grows up.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I swear. It’s the God’s honest truth.”
Throwing up her hands, Bree asked, “You think this miracle worker can do the same for us?”
Sobering, Nick said, “I don’t think anything can erase the horrific times we’ve both been through in hospitals.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Bree reached out automatically, yearning to be close to him. How much time do we have together? A week, a month, a year? Dread flooded her middle. It would be even less if he found out her secret.
Touching his wide solid chest, the soft springy hair tickled her palm and she longed to caress him freely, without restrictions, without guilt.
Will I ever feel comfortable expressing my desires to Nick? Realizing how intimate the gesture seemed, she yanked her hand back and fidgeted with her hair, combing her fingers through the short strands. “Um…your shirt is still undone.”
Nick glanced down, and then back at her as he redid the buttons. Heat crawled up her neck and she broke the stare. The air clogged with suppressed tension, setting her on edge.
We’re both probably thinking the same thing. If Sydney hadn’t have been hurt we’d be making love right now. The image flashed through her mind, sending a delicious buzz to her toes. The banked fire flared to life, shooting sparks of desire.
The magnetic pull of his gaze drew her eyes back to his, not allowing her to break the fragile link that connected them. “I’m not going to apologize for what happened, Bree.”
“I never expected it, since there’s no need for one.”
He stepped closer, crowding her. With his thumb, he traced her lips. The rough texture of his skin created a flurry of tingles. “They’re still swollen from our kisses.”
Daringly, she darted out her tongue and touched his skin, savoring the tangy taste of him. Will he taste the same all over or different in each and every spot? She wished to learn the answer.
He hissed and his eyes grew even darker. He pulled back slowly. “We’ll continue this later.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.
A tiny thrill of excitement raced down Bree’s spine. She swallowed hard, imagining what was to come.
Should I tell him now? Would he believe me if I did? Clearing her throat, she ventured, “About Vinnie…”
Straightening as if bracing himself, he asked, “Yeah, can you imagine what Sydney’s been carrying around with her all this time? It seems so logical for a kid to think that way now, but I had no idea, did you?”
She shook her head, failing to correct his misconception on what she’d wished to talk about. For just a little while longer she’d let him assume she’d led a normal life with his son. He’ll find out soon enough anyway.
Chapter 15
Nick witnessed the guarded look drop into place, like a shutter closing off the real Bree. Brick by brick, she erected a wall between them, keeping him firmly on the other side.
Bitterness filled his mouth. For every one thing she’d confided, he suspected she held back at least ten. Would she ever let him in? Would he ever learn all the mysteries?
She’d been open and honest these last few hours. Now, she’d shut down completely, holding him at bay.
How could he smash it to pieces? How could he draw out the warm, loving woman who he’d held in his arms? He wished to have that person back, the lady who bared her soul, the woman who eased his guilty conscience and set him free of the burdens he carried for so long.
I want to do the same for her, to ease all her troubles. But what is she hiding? She averted her eyes and a stab of age-old distrust poked him in the gut.
Would being vulnerable create the same in her? Nick sucked in a sharp breath, and then plunged forward, revealing a piece of himself he’d rarely ever done before. “I guess I only have myself to blame.”
Confusion chased across her features. “What do you mean?”
“Sydney. I was so caught up in how I felt, how much I hurt, that I figured she’d worked everything out.”
Bree squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and then focused on him. The haunted look in her troubled gaze nearly knocked him over. “I thought the same.
She doesn’t talk about him to me at all. I think she’s trying to protect me, at least that’s what the child psychologist said when we went to her right after he died.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “Maybe it’s because we don’t talk about Vinnie unless we’re angry or guilty or God knows what, but it’s not out of loving memories.”
She bit her lip and Nick yearned to nibble on it once again, to slowly draw out her hidden passionate nature. But he stomped down on that reaction and paid attention to her emotional needs.
“Oh, Bree, isn’t there anything I did right by you and her?”
She gasped, clearly stunned by his question. “Don’t do this, Nick, you’ve suffered enough as it is. Don’t heap anymore on your plate.”
“Maybe I deserve it.” Maybe it’s God’s way of saying I haven’t been punished enough.
“No.” A horror-filled expression transformed her face. “Don’t you dare do this to yourself. I won’t allow you to.”
Unable to look at her a moment longer, Nick turned his head away, seeing nurses and doctors at the end of the long corridor bustling to do their jobs. But the image of anger and empathy clouding Bree’s features stayed, branding itself in his mind.
Reluctantly, he twisted back to her. “When I got to Vinnie’s side I knew right then and there he was dead. It cut me in half and ripped out my heart.” He halted, drawing in great gulps of air as he relived the most horrific night of his life. “I could barely function. Then, after the numbness faded, these knife-like pains stabbed me all over.”
“Especially your heart,” she whispered brokenly.
Nick frowned, wondering how she knew. Had she felt the same way?
“I went through it with my father, Nick. He died so unexpectedly. For the longest time I’d have these little power surges of sorrow whenever I thought about him. Sometimes I still do.”
Stunned, Nick stared at her. She does know.
Bree took a tentative step forward. She hesitated. He held open his arms and she went into them.
Clutching her tightly to his chest, Nick savored the feel of her softness against his hard body. Her sweet perfume filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, welcoming the sensations flooding him.
A sense of kinship beamed brightest. They’d experienced so many things together, yet never really shared any. For the first time in his life, Nick felt truly close to someone. And I never want to give up this feeling.
Turning his head toward her, he brushed his cheek against the silky softness of her hair. A hint of green apple tickled his nose and he pressed his face fully into her neck.
Nick caressed her back, highly aware of the warmth and strength emitting from her to him. She cared.
“He loved you so much, Nick,” she whispered. “And he admired and respected you as a man.”
Tears pricked Nick’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. “It may not have been enough.”
Bree pulled back so she could look up at him. Still encircled in his arms, she scowled. “It was more than some of us get. You taught him right from wrong, values, principles, compassion and so much more. But he still couldn’t shake the link he had to Dorthea. He tried, but he couldn’t run away from that part of himself. He hated it. And he hated her.”
Stunned, Nick gawked at Bree. “He never said a word to me about it.”
“He didn’t want to hurt you by bringing up her name or the ugly past.”
Nick squeezed his eyes shut, deluged with new information to explain his son’s erratic behavior. “He tried to prove to me, himself, and everyone else he wasn’t like her.”
“But he was.”
Like a creaky old door being pushed open and allowing light to shed where only darkness once lived, Nick saw it all so clearly. An icy hand clenched his heart, squeezing it painfully at what Bree had had to endure.
Vinnie tried to prove he wasn’t like Dorthea by marrying you, by trying to be a family man. And you, dear Bree, suffered greatly for it. I should know; I endured the same terrible treatment, the same manipulative mind games at the hands of his mother.
Chapter 16
Nick dragged his feet up the cabin stairs. He’d stalled long enough.
A half hour ago, he’d carried Sydney upstairs with Bree right behind him. Then he’d retreated quickly to clean up the splintered glass fragments and little pools of blood on the kitchen floor. He’d scrubbed the speckles of rusty-colored spots until long after they disappeared, hoping to erase the horrible memory of finding Sydney hurt and crying.
Now, with the sharp, pungent cleaning fluid still filling his nostrils, he gained the top stair, rounded the corner, and then stood in the doorway.
Bree, cradling a sleepy Sydney in her arms, rocked her daughter gently, singing a lullaby. He sucked in his breath, awed by the touching sight. Mother and child.
The large rocking chair nearly swallowed them whole, but Bree displayed all the strength, courage, and love a mother bestowed on a child. A well of emotion choked Nick and he swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the huge lump in his throat.
Gratitude flowed through his veins for being allowed the chance to be a father figure to Sydney and, if truth be told, a husband to Bree. He realized he was more than adequate for the first job, but the second sent doubts chasing after one another.
Can I be the man Bree needs? Will she let me?
“Nick, I didn’t know you were there,” Bree said sheepishly. In the arch of the dim light, he noticed her cheeks pinken.
“I just got here.” He shrugged, hating that he’d been the cause of her to stop singing in that soft, lilting voice of hers, one that soothed the broken pieces in his heart. She obviously didn’t give herself enough credit when it came to carrying a tune.
“Poppa, will you say my prayers with me tonight?” Sydney blinked up at him, her big blue, heavy-lidded eyes tearing him apart.
He stiffened, afraid she’d ask this once again. She’d requested him to assist her every night since they were here. He’d skillfully dodged the bullet, but not tonight. His earlier resistance at coming to her room burst forth.
You should have stayed away, Carletti, and done everyone a favor.
“I’m not very good at it, Princess.” He stalled, looking to Bree for support.
“That’s s’okay, I’ll teach you how,” Sydney offered, and then yawned loudly.
Inwardly, he groaned. Now what?
Bree took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “Do you know you didn’t like hospitals because you thought they only hurt people?” Bree paused for her daughter to nod in understanding. “Well, your poppa feels the same way about God.”
Stunned, Nick could only stare at Bree. She’d summed up his lack of faith in two short sentences, putting words to the jumble in his soul, clarifying the chaos he’d lived with for months.
“Oooohhhh, now I get it.” Sydney turned to him, smiling that angelic way of hers. “It’s s’okay, Poppa, I was mad at Him too for a long time, but Mommy made it all better. We’ll do the same for you, too, won’t we, Mommy?” She faced Bree once again, scrubbing her eyes to dislodge the sleep in them.
“Only if he wants us to. What do you say, Nick, are you willing?”
A tangle of nerves churned in his middle. “You can always try.” Heavy skepticism filled his tone, the doubt of her success evident.
She smiled sadly at him. “That’s all we can ask, isn’t it?”
A minute later, Nick knelt beside Sydney as she murmured her prayers. Looking over the top of the little girl’s head, he encountered Bree’s warm gaze as she too prayed with her daughter. The appeal in those sparkling hazel eyes had his heart turning over in his chest.
Sydney twisted, looking up at him with one eye open, saying, “You gotta say this part with me, Poppa. But first you do this.” Her tiny hands fitted his palms together.
He grinned down at her. “What happens if I don’t hold my hands like this? Won’t He still be able to hear?”
She rolled her eyes at him. �
��Of course.” She leaned close and whispered, “He can hear everything.”
“Is that right?” He wished he believed the same, but knew He’d been deaf when it came to Nick’s pitiful pleas one night eighteen months ago. Nick had never forgiven Him since.
“Uh huh, but we do this to help things along. See you point your fingers upward like you’re sending them straight to heaven.”
Suppressing a belly laugh, Nick bit the inside of his cheek.
“Say the same thing I do. You, too, Mommy,” Sydney coached.
“Go ahead, honey,” Bree said softly.
“God bless Mommy and Poppa and Nana and me.”
Nick, along with Bree, repeated the prayer, touched that he’d been included in Sydney’s nightly blessings.
“And God, especially bless my daddy while he’s taking care of all the little boys and girls in heaven for their mommies and daddies.”
Nick blinked back tears, too choked up to continue. Where had she come up with that one? He chanced a peek at Bree and the answer dawned on him. Bree had made up this one. But why?
“Poppa…”
“It’s all right, sweetpea, your poppa can say that one in his heart and not out loud since it might hurt too much.” Bree copied the prayer word for word, and then explained to Nick, “Sydney and I talked it over and we decided that since Vinnie loved playing with kids that’s what God needed him for in heaven.”
She shrugged helplessly. Obviously she’d tried to find a purpose out of a senseless act and alleviate the unanswerable questions Sydney had surely asked.
Stunned, Nick stared at her. Vinnie had loved to play games with Sydney, sometimes to the exclusion of all else for hours on end. But being a playmate hardly qualified him for father of the year.
The discipline, hard work, daily chores, thankless duties, and endless lessons in how to behave fell onto Bree’s small, overtaxed shoulders.
Nick cleared his throat. “He couldn’t have gotten a better man for the job.”
“That’s funny, that’s what Mommy said, too.” Sydney beamed a megawatt smile at him, and then did the same to her mother. “Oops, we almost forgot to say Amen.” She smacked her hand against her forehead and shook her head, saying, “Oh, brother.”
Secrets Of The Heart (Book 1, The Heart Series) Page 11
