“He was close, Red.” Did she not understand what that meant for her? “I know you’re upset right now, but with him onto you, you can’t honestly think I’ll let you leave here.”
She settled back on her heel and crossed her arms. “No, of course not. Which makes sense, since the privilege to decide what I do is reserved for everyone but me.”
He ignored that and went over to once again block her only exit. He hated to do it, but there was no other option. She was not going to put herself in harm’s way because of what was going on between them. He would restrain her if he had to.
Let her hate him like she hated Nollan. But dammit, let her stay alive!
Maybe he should tell her about the prostitutes. Scare her into wanting to stay with him.
No. He didn’t want her feeling responsible for those girls.
He knew what it was like to have death on your conscience, and he wouldn’t do that to her when she was so close to crumbling under all she was dealing with already.
“Silent treatment?” She shook her head as if disgusted. “Fine. But if I have to stay with you, I want a weapon.”
Vincente reared back, surprised at her capitulation—and outlandish demand. “What?” he barked incredulously.
“I don’t trust you. I want to be armed.”
He ignored the unexpected pang at hearing she didn’t trust him and narrowed his eyes at how easy that had been. “Just like that.”
“No, not just like that,” she spat. “In case you missed the bulletin, Vincente, I’ve had the shit beaten out of me enough in my life to know when to snap to attention. So instead of volunteering for a black-and-blue makeover from you, I’m giving in.”
He went utterly still, astounded by her opinion of him. Of who she thought he was. Never in his life had he touched a woman in anger. Never. And he never would. For her to think that he could possibly do so with her?
Bile burned his throat, followed by an outrage the likes of which he’d never known. “I would never—”
“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, and heard it all before.” She waved her hand, dismissing him as she turned away with a flip of her hair to waltz into the main room. “Save it for someone who believes it,” she said over her shoulder. “Better yet, for someone desperate enough to listen to the bullshit guys like you actually believe when you spout it.”
He couldn’t move. Who the fuck was this chick bludgeoning his character? He stalked to her, turning her to face him with a gentle clamp on her slim wrist. Fuck, she was so breakable. How could she ever think he’d hurt her?
“Let’s get one thing straight right now. You can insult me, give me a shot on the chin, or kick me in the balls.” He came in close so he knew he had her undivided attention. “But I would never, under any circumstances, raise my hand to you.”
She yanked her wrist free and plunked down on the sofa. “Using your fists isn’t the only way to hurt someone, Vincente. Tell a girl she’s ugly or that her nose is too big, and she’ll never forget it. That hurts. Tell a guy he’s skinny rather than buff. He’s hurt. Tell someone they aren’t smart enough or good enough or that everything they do is wrong. They’re bleeding as you walk away. Most times a body will heal from a physical attack. A verbal one? Not so much.” She tapped her temple and glared up at him. “Our stupid brains don’t have to believe what the other person is saying wholeheartedly, but that doesn’t stop them from absorbing and tucking the damaging words away.” She stood and went over to look out the window, her back tense as she crossed her arms, the gesture defensive rather than aggressive. “And doesn’t the mind know just the right time to knock you back down with the memory just when you think you’re on steady ground? I want that gun I almost shot you with the other night. I put it back where Gabriel told me I could find it.”
She’d spoken as though she were giving a lesson, but it had been from the heart. Fucking Nollan. The physical damage he’d inflicted had been visible to every one of them. Fading now but visible.
What damage couldn’t they see?
“Nika—”
She held up a hand without turning. “Save it. I really don’t care to hear it.”
And she didn’t. The lack of interest was clear in her voice. “Wait here,” he said, trying not to make it an order. “I’ll get you your gun, and then we’ll go to the house to see Eva.” He’d feel better once they were there.
He made his way to the bedroom, Nollan’s note still clutched in his fist. He hit Maks’s number on his cell as he opened the safe to get the little SIG, back in its place as Nika had said. He’d have armed her himself had she not asked. If for some reason Nollan managed to put a bullet in Vincente’s neck, he had to give Nika the chance to take the fucker out before he could do any more damage to her than he’d already done.
Nollan had to die so Nika could be free. It was as simple as that.
Nika listened to Vincente’s footfalls and shook her head at the man’s naïveté, feeling nothing about obviously upsetting him with her assumption that he’d slap her around if given half the chance.
What man wouldn’t? she thought scathingly.
After quietly popping up from the couch, she tiptoed to the door, wincing as the lock snapped when she turned it. Without waiting to see if he’d heard, she grabbed her bag and sprinted down the hall, half expecting him to come after her. She jammed her finger on the elevator button over and over and practically dove in when the car dinged open.
She didn’t give a damn about Kevin. She didn’t give a damn about Vincente.
She didn’t give a damn at all. She just wanted out.
Surprised to find herself still alone when she reached street level, she didn’t hesitate to throw her arm out to hail a passing cab. Sliding in, she gave the driver Eva’s address and then sat back in the sticky seat, her heart steady and cold as ice. Sure, she was following the plan and going to Vincente’s house. But she was doing so on her terms, not his.
Eva and Gabriel had been the only ones to truly understand her desperate need for independence—had been the only two who’d really respected her wishes. Maybe they’d be able to keep Kevin—and Vincente—the hell away from her.
Vincente hit the gas, still unable to believe she’d fucked off on him. How stupid was he to have not realized that’s what she intended to do? Dammit. He might as well have paid for the fucking cab the doorman had said she’d gotten into.
He weaved around a sweet-looking Ferrari that might as well have been sitting still, the old fart inside was going so slow.
He hit the speed dial for Eva’s cell.
“Hello?”
“Squirt. Did Nika call you?”
“Just now. What happened? Is she okay? She sounded weird.”
“Did she say where she was heading?”
“She’s coming here.”
Thank fuck. “I’m on my way.”
He disconnected and got Caleb on the line next, telling him to come to the house. He filled him in on Nollan’s note and recent activities and was pretty sure he heard a bike start in the background before they even hung up.
Maks was home and on high alert, had probably filled Gabriel and the others in already. Once Nika passed through the front gate, she was not leaving again until Nollan was in the ground. Period.
The fact that she’d be protected in somewhat the same manner at the clubhouse was barely a passing thought. She would be, but not by him, and that was the only way he’d be able to concentrate on ending this, by having her behind the walls of Maks’s Fort Knox–level security system.
She hates you now, Fan Boy accused, the sledgehammer in his hands coming down once more, making Vincente’s head throb.
This wasn’t the way he wanted shit between them to go down. He should have kept his fucking distance.
His teeth ground together as he was stopped by yet another red light. She could hate
him all she wanted, but that wouldn’t change anything. Not now. Not when her ex had gotten close enough to touch her. The reminder had him screeching the tires when he stomped on the gas too hard as the light flashed green.
No matter what means he had to use, he was going to make things right and safe for that woman. If it was the last thing he ever did.
Anxiety rode him hard as he floored it down the freeway and was still on his ass when, thirty-eight minutes later, he stood with his shoulder leaning against the jamb in the opened bay of his garage. His stomach was killing him, the pit nothing but a grinding knot of nerves as he watched Eva pace the same circle she’d been doing for the past fifteen minutes.
“Gabriel’s gonna yell at you doin’ that nervous habit,” he commented idly, attempting to settle her when he couldn’t settle himself.
She stilled her clicking fingernails and looked over. “Nika called forever ago, Vincente. Where could she be?” She sat down on the edge of a large cement urn filled with summer flowers. “God, I feel sick,” she added, looking sick.
“She’ll be here any second,” he assured her. Fuck, he wanted to pace but wouldn’t. Didn’t want Eva and Caleb, who’d arrived a few minutes ago, to have a visual of his nerves. Where the fuck was the cab?
What if she’d changed her mind halfway here and decided to go somewhere else? He stiffened. Were they standing there like chumps while she headed . . . where? To Vex, maybe?
Fuck. If the biker touched her, he’d have to kill him. No matter what kind of war it would cause between their people. Vincente didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time two organized crime factions went head-to-head. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
You don’t have the right, asshole, Fan Boy reminded him. You gave it up when you crushed her under your heel two hours ago.
“Seriously. What the fuck is the cabbie doing? Circling a random block somewhere to crank up the meter?” Caleb ran a hand over his short hair in a fast swipe. He was perched on the front fender of Alek’s Range Rover.
“Where’s Vex?” Vincente couldn’t help it. Had to ask.
“Don’t know.” Caleb took out his phone and punched in a quick text. “He’s at Lucian Fane’s place,” he said when he got a response. “You need him for something?”
“Nope.” The biker would live another day, he thought around his relief.
Gabriel came out from the garage and ran his palm over Eva’s hair in a gentle caress before going over to the Range Rover and grabbing Nollan’s note, which Vincente had thrown onto the hood a few minutes ago. He read it for what had to be the tenth time. “Tell me how this prick keeps slipping through everyone’s fingers.”
Vincente cracked his jaw before answering. “No close connects here. If we were in Seattle, we’d know who to shake down. In New York, we don’t know who he knows or where he’s hanging.”
“Have you asked Nika about friends he might have around town?”
No, he hadn’t. He turned to Caleb. “Have you?”
“Fuck. No. I’ve been so worried about her—trying so hard not to bring that bastard up—I didn’t think to ask her,” the biker admitted, like a man. An embarrassed man but a man nonetheless.
Vincente ground his teeth and slugged him in the shoulder. “Join the idiot parade—my float’s not full. It didn’t cross my mind to question her either.” Shit. He’d been too distracted.
He filled them in on Lore’s text and made a mental note to get the footage from the security cameras placed around the apartment building. He wanted to know how close Nollan had been.
The front door to the house swung open to reveal Maks. He shaded his eyes against the August sunshine and called down, “Cab just dropped a lone female off at the end of the drive. At the rate she’s walking, her ETA is about twenty minutes. She looks like she can use a friend.”
Eva was on her feet and grabbing Gabriel’s hand before Maks even finished, yanking her husband toward his truck. “We’ll go.”
“I’ll come with.” Caleb stood but didn’t get the chance to take a step before Eva was hopping into the passenger seat and slamming the door.
“We’ll be right back, Paynne,” Gabriel reassured him as he climbed in and headed around the circle.
Never had Vincente been more jealous of the pecking order.
CHAPTER 15
Nika slowly walked alongside the paved drive leading to Eva’s house, the detachment that had settled over her at the apartment had faded bit by bit during the trip and was now almost gone. Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it in an effort to smother the emotion trying to rise in her chest.
She’d never been so exhausted in all her life. Who’d have thought simply surviving would be so trying, and for such little gain? The toe of her sandal caught on a chunk of raised asphalt and she stumbled, probably looking as if she were attempting to dance.
She glanced back to where she’d had the taxi drop her and then scanned the area. It was really lovely here. Peaceful. Quiet, with just the sound of the wind in the trees lining the drive and the odd bird chirping. With a ragged sigh, she veered to the side and flopped down onto the grass.
Was there something wrong with her that she couldn’t see?
She pulled some grass out and brought it to her nose. Inhaling the fresh scent of nature brought her back to Seattle. She was a young girl again, sitting on the picnic table in her backyard, playing with Barbie dolls while her dad mowed the lawn. Her whole life was ahead of her, but never in her dreams, or her worst nightmares, had she foreseen where she was today.
She looked up at the sound of an approaching vehicle. She didn’t panic since it was coming from the house and not the main road. The black Escalade stopped on the opposite side of where she sat and the passenger door opened. Eva hopped out, and Nika managed the barest of smiles as her best friend came over and dropped down beside her. They sat in silence for a while, Nika not sure what to say. Maybe “I’m overwhelmed and floundering and I don’t know how to get a grip on this”?
She didn’t want to admit that. Had tried so hard to deny it. She didn’t want to be broken.
But she was.
“I’m not doing so well,” she confessed quietly.
Eva joined their arms and snuggled up until they were hip to hip, the canary diamond from her ring twinkling in the sunlight coming through the trees. “Not many people in your position would be.” The empathy in her tone was just enough to make Nika feel understood but not pitied. “Do you think it might help to talk to someone about it? I know it helped me after the time I spent in that cabin with Stefano and Furio. I don’t mean a shrink,” she said quickly. “Unless that’s what you want. But I talked to Gabriel’s friend Michael. He’s the priest who married us. Really nice. Doesn’t act all self-righteous.”
“How did talking to him help?” Nika believed talking about it would do nothing more than bring all the bad feelings she’d experienced during the past year to the forefront again. Why would she volunteer for that?
“The best thing, I find, is that he listens. He doesn’t try to talk me out of feeling what I’m feeling.” She lowered her voice as if it might carry across the road. “I’d talk to Gabriel, but it just makes him furious, and I want him and Stefano to patch things up, not get into a fight the minute they see each other again.” She shrugged. “I know our situations are different. I mean, I was only taken for one night, whereas you . . .” She paused and swallowed audibly before saying, “I guess I do understand Gabriel’s anger, because if the chance ever presented itself, I would kill Kevin without a second thought.”
“Get in line, sista,” Nika murmured. She let her head fall to Eva’s shoulder. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m really sorry all of this is happening during what should be one of the best times of your life. First your wedding night, and now, weeks later, it’s still going on. You and Gabriel haven’t even gone on a proper hone
ymoon. Please tell me that isn’t because of my situation.”
Eva nudged her with her elbow. “It isn’t, but what if it was? Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
Without a doubt. She nodded.
“Of course you would,” Eva said. She straightened her tanned legs, which looked endless in the shorts she was wearing, and wriggled her toes in her sandals. Nika did the same, thinking idly that she had to change her polish.
“Before you guys drove up,” Nika said, “I was smelling the grass, and it reminded me of when I was little. Did you play with Barbies?”
“Barbies?”
Nika lifted her head. “Yeah. My favorite was the family set with the Volvo. Remember?”
Eva looked sheepish. “I wasn’t a Barbie fan.”
“No, you wouldn’t have been. You were more the fake broom, dustpan, and nonworking vacuum cleaner,” she teased.
“I totally had that whole set,” Eva admitted. “It was pink and turquoise.”
They laughed in a soft burst, but the humor didn’t last.
“So was it something that happened today that upset you?” Eva asked. “Or have you been feeling like this all along? When I called this morning, aside from your hangover, things seemed fine. Especially when you said you were in bed with Vincente . . . ?”
Nika sighed and felt no shame in talking about something so personal with her best friend. “I found out I’m not as messed up from Kevin as I thought. Sexually, I mean,” she clarified. “Vincente and I fooled around and, well, it was wonderful. Until he ended it because I wasn’t doing it for him.”
Eva seemed to freeze; she even stopped breathing for a few seconds. Her fingers clasped Nika’s knee. “He said that?”
“Not those exact words, but that was the gist of it.”
“I’m coming to love Vincente, but what a dick move. If you didn’t do it for him, then why did he come on to you? I think maybe he’s lying. Do you see the way he looks at you?” She nodded. “I’m pretty sure he totally lied to you today. But why?”
The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) Page 22