Savagely (The Italian Book 2)

by Krista Holt

  Cameron leans back in his chair, studying me from his elevated position. “Why are you here today, Mr. X? What possessed you to risk your life to talk to this body?”

  I lock eyes with Reagan. “She knows why, and that’s all that matters.”

  “There.” Garrett pushes his chair back and stands. “Members of the Oversight Committee, we appreciate your time, and we will leave you to your work.”

  I slowly rise to my feet, ignoring the way my ribs bark in pain, and try to get her attention.

  “We’ve got to go,” Garrett says under his breath. “I don’t want to wait for them to get pissed off. I want to leave on good terms. Nic…move.”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “No, you don’t. You need to keep breathing.”

  He herds me toward the aisle, and then to the door. I keep sneaking glances at Reagan, but she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at her hands, and she seems completely…wrecked. Her mind is probably spinning. She’s got to be piecing together everything I have ever told her the last couple of months, trying to figure it all out. But she doesn’t need to.

  If she’d just look at me, I’d tell her everything she needs to know. A foot from the door, I stop, even Garrett’s rough prompting won’t make me budge. I’m seconds away from shouting her name and getting her attention, when she lifts her head and meets my gaze.

  With a tilt of my chin, I gesture toward the other side of the door. Hoping my pleading expression will be enough to convince her to follow me.

  “Nic, move,” Garrett snaps, and because I’ve done everything I need to in this room, I leave.

  Once we’re safely out of the hearing room, O’Neil makes a sound of disgust. “I hate glad-handing a bunch of politicians like that. It makes me feel dirty.” He rolls his shoulders, trying to loosen some of the tension we’re all feeling. “We got to go, Nic,” he insists. “We’ve stayed in one place longer than we should have.”

  I stare at the closed door, sliding my hands in my pants pockets as I wait. “I know we do. But she’ll come. Give me a few more minutes.”

  “This is stupid, for the record. If you get shot here, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  I nod, not caring. If I get shot in the next few minutes while waiting for Reagan, it’ll have been worth it. A deep breath fills my lungs and then slowly leaks out as I exhale.

  “She’ll come. I know it.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Reagan

  “MORETTI? HE WAS THE ONE who sold us out?” Scott’s displeasure is obvious as he speaks with Cameron. “He was probably the one who handed over the intern, too. Don’t you think, Reagan?”

  I reluctantly peel my gaze away from the closed hearing door. “What? Sorry.”

  “Did you know about any of this?” Cameron asks.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t. I didn’t know…at all.”

  He nods slowly, thoughtfully. “I’m surprised he even bothered showing up at all. He didn’t need to. Obviously his immunity deal wasn’t contingent on it, and I would assume that

  when he took you both, he was trying to protect himself. He needed it to look like he was searching for the whistleblower, when in fact, he was the whistleblower.”

  “Seems like,” Scott interjects.

  They pause, waiting for me to contribute something. But I can’t. All I want right now is to be on the other side of that door. With Nic.

  The minutes it took Cameron to wrap up the hearing were excruciating. Even now, as I wait for him to go, to head to the next thing on his schedule, leaving me free to run after Nic, I’m dying on the inside. But as he starts to gather up his things, turning to us one more time, I know my wait is almost over.

  “Thank you both for being here. I appreciate your hard work, and now, thanks to Mr. X, or I guess, Mr. Selvaggio, we’re able to steer this investigation back toward the FBI and away from the mob. So let’s check into having the FBI director or at least the Head of the Organized Crime Taskforce come testify, that way we can focus on holding them accountable.”

  Cameron turns to me. “I understand if you want to head home, Reagan. I know you were planning on taking the day off.” His knowing gaze travels to the door Nic exited not long ago. “Let us know if you need more than one day.”

  I nod, not trusting myself to say anything else as Cameron and his security detail finally leave through the side door.

  After grabbing my purse and coat, I hurry down the steps of the committee bench, rushing toward the main door.

  “Hold on!” Scott calls, jogging after me. “You’re going after him? Reagan, nothing he said today makes up for what he did to us. You know that, right?”

  I ignore him, putting one foot in front of the other. Moving closer to the door. I don’t expect him to understand, to even comprehend everything that’s happened between Nic and me. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know. Not like I do.

  “Reagan, wait!” He grabs my arm, jerking me to a sudden halt halfway up the aisle. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Anger bursts inside me. I’m so sick and tired of people asking me that. Of assuming that they know better than I do, when they know next to nothing about me. And I’m so completely done with people hauling me around like they have the right to.

  “Let go of me,” I snap, glaring up at him.

  “Sorry, sorry.” He drops his hand. “I just want you to think about this, for a second at least. I mean, this guy stood by and let you be assaulted. By one of his own guys! And now, what? He does the right thing for once in his life and then none of it matters?”

  “I don’t expect you to get it, Scott. There’s no way you could. You haven’t been in my shoes, you haven’t been in his. You can’t possibly understand all of this.”

  “Then explain it to me!” The few lingering staffers turn at Scott’s outburst. I’m beyond embarrassment, though. I don’t care anymore.

  I glance at the closed door. I’m so close to being on the other side. I know he’s waiting, there’s something in the air, a strong current that tells me he’s still there.

  “I can’t explain it, Scott. What happens between two people is impossible for someone else to understand.”

  “You’re being stupid and reckless. You’re willing to throw everything you’ve worked for away, for him, for that scum?”

  “No!” I spin, thrusting a finger into his chest. “You know nothing about him! And why are you under the impression that I need your permission or approval? Because I don’t. We’re friends, Scott, nothing more. And we may not even be that if you keep this up. Now. Back. Off.”

  Apology flashes over his face briefly before his forehead furrows in a scowl. “Can’t you see this isn’t going to end well? Do what you want, but don’t come crying to me the next time you get beat up.”

  “That’s an ugly thing to say.”

  He sighs, gripping the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “It sounded like you did.”

  “Well, I didn’t. I’m just pissed off, and I think you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

  “Maybe I am. But that’s my choice, Scott.” I walk away. No part of me wants to keep having this conversation with him.

  My steps speed up the closer I get to the door. My heart, too, races ahead. Races to him.

  I pull the heavy door open, only to be greeted by an empty hallway. My stomach drops as I run onto the marble tile, looking everywhere.

  And then I see him, waiting next to a cluster of agents. His eyes light up when he spots me, and relief washes over his face.

  Something between laughter and a sob leaves my lips as I run toward him. “Nic!”

  He rushes forward, and I fling myself into his arms. We collide hard enough that he groans, and takes a few steps back.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I cry, over and over, wrapping my arms around his neck and hiding my face in his chest. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’
s okay. I know.” He holds me tight, whispering in my ear. “I know you didn’t, but I couldn’t tell you. Not until now.”

  Tears well up in my eyes, threatening to race down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart.” His hand cups the back of my head, and he kisses my cheek. “It’s fine. You know now.”

  I shake my head. “I thought the worst, I didn’t know what to do, and I felt awful. So completely awful. I’ve never hated myself more than after he told me. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Reagan, sweetheart, hold on.” He lowers me to the floor. “My rib is cracked and—”

  “You’re hurt?” I pull back, resting my hand on his side. “How?”

  “Long story, and I will tell you, every detail…” His hand covers mine, holding tight. “But first, what are you talking about?”

  My mouth drops open, shock nearly knocking me over. He doesn’t know.

  He doesn’t know what I did.

  His hands rest on either side of my face, tilting it up. With a heartbreaking smile tugging at his lips, he covers my face in gentle kisses. Forehead. Cheek. Temple. And they feel like blows. This expression of his love, his affection, feels so ugly and tainted. Because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what I’ve done.

  “I’m so sorry,” I cry. “I didn’t mean to…”

  Worry etches itself in the hard lines of his face as he frowns. Rough hands wipe away a few tears, but it’s no match for the fresh ones that keep falling from my eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s going on? You can tell me anything.”

  “Nic, believe me. If I had known, I wouldn’t have—”

  “So, this must be the mighty Nic Selvaggio, huh?” a voice I know all too well interrupts us. “Reagan, do you mind introducing me?”

  Nic glares at the intruder as he pulls me behind him, trying to shield me from Simmons. “Who are you?”

  This can’t be happening.

  I never wanted Nic to find out like this. My mouth is open, but the words won’t come out. They’re stuck. I’m stuck. It’s like watching a car crash happen in real time. This was the initial impact, and now I’m holding my breath, knowing it’ll only get worse.

  Simmons looks at me, waiting for me to explain. But I can’t. I can’t say anything, I can’t even move. I’m frozen.

  Nic’s brows pinch together. “How do you know Reagan?”

  “Nic, please.” I grab his hand, trying to drag him away. “I need to talk to you. I need to explain.”

  “Explain what?” Suspicion flares in his dark irises.

  I want to scream, to beg for forgiveness, to cry at the injustice of it all, but I don’t have the chance.

  Simmons clears his throat, and then announces, “I’m Jack Simmons. I work for the FBI. And Reagan here probably wants to explain how she’s been telling me all your secrets, going behind your back for, well, quite a while now. I mean, she was the one that got you arrested, after all.”

  “Shut up,” I shout at him, throwing myself between them. Desperately, I reach for Nic, but he just stands there. Stunned. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. I grab his hands, trying to hold on. “Please, Nic, let me explain. I can, I swear.”

  “See, your lovely girlfriend has been assisting me.” Simmons talks over me, using his words like the knife they are, slicing at Nic’s flesh. “She’s been helping me build a case…against you.”

  Nic’s jaw clenches as he frantically searches my face. Trying to find what he missed. For the briefest of seconds he looks wounded, and then he hides it. His eyes harden as he glares at me.

  “Is he telling the truth?”

  I stare up at him, silently pleading for him to understand. For him to see it from my side. “He is, but there’s more—”

  He jerks back. His expression cutting, it’s horror, and doubt, and pain. And most of all, it’s hurt.

  “You?” he shouts. “It was you?” He thrusts a hand in his hair and tugs at it, eyes wide as his face turns a dull red. “Of course it was you, it couldn’t have been anybody else. No one else would have had the nerve. I didn’t even see it coming. You turned me into such a goddamn lovesick fool that I didn’t even consider the possibility.”

  “Please!” I reach for him, but he takes another step back, retreating.

  He looks at me with new eyes, like he doesn’t even recognize me anymore. “I trusted you!”

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” I cry. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t have anything else to say, I just wanted to meet the man who circumvented the justice system,” Simmons interrupts, drawing Nic’s fury.

  “You!” He rounds on the FBI agent, shoulders tense and corded, like he’s tempted to hit him. “Get the hell away from me,” he thunders. “If I see your face ever again—”

  “Nic, stop!” I grab his hand, throwing myself between them again. “This is what he wants. Don’t give it to him.”

  “Stay out of this, Reagan.” He pulls his arm away and the disdain in his eyes physically hurts.

  Agent O’Neil joins us, quickly taking everything in. “Simmons, what are you doing here?”

  “Did you know about this?” Nic demands, before the man can answer.

  “Did I know about what?”

  “That he was using her,” he yells, pointing his judgment at me. “She’s the source. She’s the one that gave him access to my phone, to my car.”

  Surprise flashes over Agent O’Neil’s face.

  “No, I didn’t.” He frowns. “But, Agent Simmons, I think it’s time for you to leave. I’ll be contacting your supervisor to discuss this further.”

  Simmons shrugs. “I guess I’ll be going then. Thanks for the help, Reagan. Maybe we’ll get him next time.”

  I turn my back to him, not caring what he does. I have to make this right with Nic.

  “Please,” I beg, “let me—”

  “Stop talking! I can’t believe this,” he cuts me off. “It was you. You?”

  “Nic, wait. I can—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t.” He stares at me, eyes still wide, unbelieving. Beyond angry.

  “Please…?”

  “Weren’t you the one that said all the pleases in the world won’t change this? Didn’t you say that to me?”

  I wince, unable to hide how his words cut. Because I did say that, and I had said it to hurt him. Like he did, just now. Swallowing hard, I meet his gaze, accepting the ugly raw emotions I find there.

  “I didn’t know what you were doing. I didn’t know you were cooperating with the FBI. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you were supposed to trust me!” he thunders, chest heaving.

  “We were both wrong,” I whisper.

  “Were we? Were we?”

  He takes a menacing step forward, invading my personal space. But I don’t back down. I can’t. Not now. His face is inches from mine. He towers over me, unflinchingly meeting my gaze as he breathes heavily, fighting for control.

  “Because the way I see it, I took a damn sledgehammer to my life, to my family, to everything I’ve ever known so I could be with you. And what did you do? You betrayed me. Me. The man who was so in love with you there was nothing I wouldn’t have done for you. Nothing.”

  “Was?” I take a pained breath. “Was?”

  His eyes skim my face one more time. “God, I can’t even look at you.” Anguish is carved into his features as he closes his eyes. “Garrett, get me out of here. Now!”

  “Nic, wait,” I plead, ignoring the bodies approaching, the same ones that pull him from me seconds later. “Wait!”

  He shakes his head, refusing to look at me before he disappears behind a shield of FBI agents. They herd him down the hallway, and I shout his name a few more times, but he doesn’t turn around. His steps don’t falter as he leaves the building, stepping out into the bright sunlight.

  It isn’t until the door closes, separating us, that I close my eyes. Struggling to hold back my tears, I inhale slowly.
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  I can’t believe this happened.

  I can’t believe I let myself be used against him. Despite all my justifications for my actions, I now realize I acted like a coward. A complete and total coward. I had the chance to jump completely into what we had, the chance to choose to believe him, to love him, to not let myself be swayed by what others thought about him, and I failed. I drew back. I protected myself, above him, and Simmons simply provided the perfect excuse to justify my actions.

  I drop onto a cold bench in the now deserted hallway and hold my head in my hands. Trying to anchor myself to something, anything, because right now my world is spinning, way too fast, like it’s about to fall off its axis and go rolling away.

  And I only have myself to blame.

  CHAPTER 23

  “I—I…”

  I pace our living room, waiting for Becca to say something. Anything. She’s been stammering partial words for the past ten minutes, ever since I burst through the front door and spilled every ugly detail.

  All of it. Nic’s mafia connection. My working with Simmons. The kidnapping. How I planted a bug and unwittingly stole information from Nic’s phone. Information that got him arrested, or so I thought. How Nic had been the whistleblower all along. And finally, how he walked out of the Rayburn building and didn’t even look back.

  “You’ve been living a double life, all this time?” she finally shrieks.

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh…my…God.” She blinks slowly, absorbing the news, her face paler than I’ve ever seen it. “Is that why you’ve been wearing those stupid scarves lately, because you’re hurt?”

  “That’s not important right now.” My hand goes to my neck, trying to hide what she’s already noticed. “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’ve been keeping me in the dark for months.”