Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)

by Nikki Belaire

  Fire rages through him. At them. At himself. He swallows down the bile crawling up his throat. “Fucking wait! I have to make sure she’s all right.”

  “Sir, when you pointed a loaded weapon at a law enforcement officer, you ran out of time. The faster you cooperate, the faster I can check on her.”

  “Shae, please wake up.”

  Her eyelids flutter before flying open, her eyes wide with fear just as he’s yanked up. Handcuffs dig into his skin, and he’s dragged backwards. Away from her. Too far to alleviate her panic or his guilt.

  “Nick?” Her raspy voice muffles in her gasps for air. She arches her back off the blanket, as if opening her lungs as far as possible, before rolling on her side and clutching the front of her dress.

  He forces himself to sound calm, for her as much as himself. “I’m here, sweetness. You just got the wind knocked out of you. Everything’s—”

  “Do you have a permit for the gun?”

  He ignores the sheriff’s question as the man pats him down and removes his wallet. “Everything’s okay, Shae. Let me get this—”

  Pulling out Nick’s driver’s license, the officer taps it on the back of his gloved hand. “Mr. DeMarco, I said, do you have a permit for this weapon?”

  “Yeah, it’s in there.” Nick never takes his eyes off of her. Yet again, she suffers because of him, and he can’t do a thing to help her.

  After a few seconds her, breathing calms, and she sits up. Tendrils of hair fall loose around her delicate shoulders, hunched in uncertainty as she looks around.

  The other sheriff kneels down next to her. “Are you okay, miss?”

  She gives a slow nod before her groggy gaze meets Nick’s, relief filling her eyes as they lock with his. The tightness in his chest loosens. She’s okay, and inexplicably, finds comfort in his presence.

  “Did he hurt you? Was he holding you here against your will?”

  “Of course not…” Her voice falters, and she clears her throat. “We were having a picnic.”

  “You realize it’s against the law to trespass on private property?” Even and soft, the deputy’s voice implies sympathy, yet an accusation simmers under the surface, already building his case against them. Leading her into his trap.

  “We’re here for a wine tasting.”

  “This winery has been closed for years.”

  Nick’s jaw clenches at the interrogation. No one is more innocent than her. “Fucking ask Mr. Altmeyer. He’s the one who served us.”

  Squeezing the radio clipped on his shoulder, the deputy requests a check on Nick’s license and assistance with a female victim. Shae stands up and smoothes her dress. “I am not a victim.”

  The officer tips his head down to hers, curling over her shoulder to create a barrier between her and Nick. “He pulled out a gun and threw you to the ground. It would be reasonable and appropriate to file assault charges against him.”

  She turns back, her eyes meeting Nick’s again, and shakes her head. “My fiancé isn’t that kind of man. He was protecting me.”

  Nick releases a long breath. Her words and smile signal her forgiveness of his overreaction, defending him regardless of his mistakes. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

  “From what?”

  “Sometimes, I have problems with overzealous fans and paparazzi.”

  The sheriff looks closer, studying her features. “Are you…Shae Armstrong?”

  “Yes, I’m Shae.”

  “Well, Miss Armstrong, you and your entourage have caused quite a bit of trouble today.” The man’s voice drips with disgust. “Neighbors reported a huge convoy of vehicles racing back here and a crowd of people overrunning the place.”

  She holds up her fingers, signifying the truth of their situation. “Two vehicles, five people, zero reckless driving.” Her voice conveys poise and self-confidence as she meets the sheriff’s scowl.

  Now is the sexiest he has ever seen her. He’s rubbing off on her in more ways than one.

  “That’s what I’ve got.” The officer holding Nick’s arm nods down the hill toward the tasting room. “Three men and two SUVs in the parking lot.”

  The other man shakes his head and reaches for his radio. “Let’s see if Mr. Altmeyer corroborates your story.”

  * * * *

  Shae squeezes Nick’s hand after he helps her from the limo, trying to pull him out of the guilt immersing him, attempting to end the blame he inflicts upon himself for only doing what makes her love him.

  He shakes his head, his face drawn and dark under the lights lining the entryway. Max gives her a sympathetic frown as they walk inside. He too knows the battle she faces in trying to relieve Nick of his misguided torture.

  Carter sprawls across the sofa, his soft snore greeting them in the otherwise empty house. Nick nudges Carter’s leg with his foot. “Wake up, pretty boy. We’re home.”

  The most Nick’s said since they left the winery. Engulfing her as soon as the restraints were removed, he murmured his apologies into her hair as he held her. On the plane, he flinched at her touch against his wrist, rubbed raw from the tight metal, not allowing her to comfort him. Only kissing her forehead and drawing her closer when she tried to assure him she’s okay.

  His cousin yawns and stretches before sitting up. “Fuck you. I’ve been waiting here for hours. What else did you expect me to do?”

  “Yeah, sounds like you had a real rough night. Unlike some of us, who’ve enjoyed being handcuffed for four hours.”

  “You owe me. If Luther hadn’t been able to sweet-talk the district attorney with a whole song and dance about your right to protect yourself, you’d be sitting on your ass in jail right now. Lucky for you, Shae didn’t press charges either. They were really gunning for that too.” A smirk plays on Carter’s lips, and he winks at her. “Don’t worry though. It’s not too late to change your mind. Charges can be pressed for years after an assault.”

  Nick’s grip tightens on her hand as his body stiffens. Carter pushes it too far, and she must extinguish the fire he flames, smother the fury that can only lead to more violence between the men. “Can you give us a minute, please? I’d like to talk to Nick before you guys hole up in his office.”

  Carter stands up and rolls his eyes. “Come on, Max. I’ll let you tell me all about your sob story too.”

  Once they’re alone, she wraps her arms around Nick’s waist, meeting his searing gaze. It’s her turn to soothe his fears. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just trying to be funny.”

  He cups her face, his eyes scanning hers, long fingers curling around her hair. “At the vineyard, I thought he was going to…” His mouth twists as he shakes his head, his voice falling to a pained whisper. “Shoot you. I would never push you down for any other reason. I would never put my hands on you.”

  She wraps her fingers around his. So lost in his anguish, he can’t accept what she knows, what she sees in him. Never concerned with himself, not worried about the accusations against him or the possible punishment. Only scared for her safety, afraid she doubts his intentions. “You don’t have to worry about me thinking anything else. I know you were trying to protect me.”

  With his forehead pressed against hers, he conveys an exhausted relief. “I love you, sweetness.”

  “I know, fiancé.”

  His eyes darken and shivers trail over her bare shoulders at his lips on her ear, “Wait up for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  They walk hand-in-hand to the steps, her racing heart slowing at his calmer demeanor. He’s come back to her. As he kisses her cheek, his office door opens and Max steps out. “Nick, we need to talk to Shae.”

  Nick’s head flies up. “What are you doing, Max?”

  “There’s no way this was a coincidence. The story about the neighbors doesn’t make any sense. Someone tipped off the sheriff with fake information, trying to set us up. I need to know who she told about going to the winery so we can figure out who it was.”

  “It was a surprise
. She couldn’t have told anyone.”

  Max shakes his head, lines squeezing his forehead. “Then you and I were the only people who knew the entire itinerary. I can’t figure out who else could have known about your plans.”

  The second time someone’s been spying on them, listening to their private conversations. Her stomach clenches. For the past two days she thought keeping the truth about Spencer from him was the best thing do to. Telling him now is going to be so much worse.

  “I know who it was.” She grasps Nick’s arm, her legs shaking from his body stiffening. “I think it was Spencer.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He said a few strange things to me. I tried to ignore him…”

  Her voice falters at the redness racing up his cheeks, matching the anger flaming in his eyes. "Tell me, Shae. I have to know."

  “He threatened to blackmail me. He knew things, private things only you and I know. He’s been eavesdropping on us.”

  Max swears as Nick’s eyes widen. Nick nods to him. “Go!”

  He races to Nick's office, barking out orders into his phone. Cold chills race through her at Nick’s blank expression. She would rather see fury than the deadness staring back at her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  She rubs her arms, trying to calm the trembling. The hardness in his voice strangles hers, and she can only whisper, “I was scared. I thought if you knew what he did, you would kill him. I couldn’t be responsible for his death.”

  His jaw ticks with rage. He closes his eyes and kneads his forehead with his fingertips. “What did he do?”

  “He climbed into bed with me when I was sleeping. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth.” She purses her lips to keep them from quivering. All of her insecurities blowing up to hurt him even more. “He said if I told you, he would say I seduced him. That you would believe him, because I…”

  The words stall on her lips. She’s never told him before, and now, only because of the threat. Not in the way she should. Not the way she wants. Not how he deserves.

  “What?”

  “I never tell you I love you.”

  “That god damn fucking bastard.” His head droops forward as he shakes it, pressing his fists against his eyes. “He was in our bed? Did he…”

  Covering her mouth, she tries to stop a sob from escaping. “No, I swear. He just talked and asked me weird questions.”

  “Fucking shit, Shae! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. We promised no secrets.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “The right thing?” His head jerks up, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. “I trusted this man and let him into my home. While he was here, he threatened you and listened to our conversations, and you kept it from me?”

  She steps toward him. She can fix this, make him understand, beg his forgiveness. “Nick, I—”

  He puts his hand up. “You’d better stay with Carrie tonight.”

  Turning on his heel, he stalks into his office, still shaking his head, and slams the door behind him. Her stomach rolls. Now she knows what it feels like to be pushed away. How painful it is to be rejected by the person you love.

  She runs through the house and down the breezeway. Shivering as she knocks on the door of the guest house, she wraps her arms around herself. The last time she was here, she didn’t listen to Carrie, and it backfired. She can’t make the same mistake.

  Nathan opens the door, still wearing his scrubs, stifling a yawn. “Hey.”

  “Hi. Is Carrie awake?”

  “Yeah, but she’s in the shower. Do you need something?”

  Unable to seek her best friend’s advice with Nathan here, she shakes her head. The truth about Spencer would be his breaking point, and he’d want Carrie to leave. She refuses to make Carrie choose between her and Nathan, to have her know the pain of being put in the middle. “No, it’s okay. Just tell her good night for me.”

  “Are you sure? You can come in if you want.”

  She gives him her posed smile, grateful he’s too tired to notice the difference. “No, it’s late. I’ll just talk to her in the morning. Good night.”

  At the kitchen door, she pauses. Max directs men to different areas of the house while one runs some kind of tool around the baseboards in the living room. Nick comes out of his office driving his hand through his hair, his face lined with worry. He motions to Max, and they head upstairs.

  Tightness fills her chest. She’s messed up and has nowhere to go. Her life is not her own anymore. She doesn’t even know where her car keys are.

  “Shae?”

  She jumps at Marta’s soft voice behind her.

  “Oh, Marta. I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”

  “Is okay. Come sit with me. We talk the girl talk.”

  Shae accepts her outstretched hand, grateful for a friendly face. They walk through the pantry to the steps leading to Marta’s apartment over the garage. Once inside, she pats the navy and white checked sofa in the sitting area. “You sit. I make tea. Is favorite kind.”

  As Shae snuggles into the afghan draped across the back, a bit of her anxiety releases at Marta’s confident hands effortlessly performing the timeless ritual for generating warm comfort. She fills a small kettle and places it on the stove before scooping loose tea into the infuser. A hint of vanilla wafts through the open space from the African solstice canister sitting next to two over-sized white mugs on the spotless countertop. Waiting for the water to boil, Marta sits on the other end of the sofa. “What happen?”

  “I kept something from Nick I shouldn’t have. It’s really bad. I just didn’t realize at the time what it meant.”

  “Nick love you. It be okay.”

  “I don’t know. He told me to stay with Carrie tonight.” She shakes her head, trying to ignore the fear coiling around her heart at the thought of their new sleeping arrangements becoming permanent. “He’s never been angry with me before.”

  “He mad at me sometimes.” Marta extends her arms in front of her as if encompassing the room. “I still here.”

  She smiles at Marta’s confidence. “You’re right, you are. I’m glad.”

  “I glad you here too. Nick need you.”

  “I’m not sure if he thinks so after tonight.”

  The whistling steam shrieks from the kitchenette, and Marta shakes her head before standing. “No give up too easy.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.” She accepts the steaming mug, the sweet scent of honey mingling with the tart berry flavor. "Will you tell me more stories about Nick? I like hearing about him when he was little.”

  Marta’s soothing voice weaves a relaxing atmosphere around them, easing some of the uncertainty from the commotion from downstairs. She enjoys a second cup until an insistent buzz from Marta’s bedside table makes her bolt up from the couch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was up here for so long. I’ve kept you up all night.”

  “I have fun girl talking with you. I nap later. Now, I get ready for church.”

  She welcomes the strength of Marta’s arms around her shoulders, holding Shae tight against her petite frame. “Thank you for being such a good friend to me.”

  “You come see me all times.”

  The warmth from Marta’s embrace quickly fades walking through the silent house. Her cold chill returns from the normal peacefulness missing. Everything neat and orderly as Marta likes it, yet slightly off. Noticeable things have been gone through. Moved and put back in place.

  Inside the bedroom, his clothes are strewn across the chair. A used glass sits next to the empty bottle of whiskey. The hiss of the shower fills the hollowness of the room.

  Tears prick her eyes. Fear strangles them both, old demons controlling them, interfering with their ability to completely give themselves to each other. Even though she wants to, more than she’s ever needed anything, to let go of all the doubt she holds onto so she can love him. Help him understand why she said
yes amidst her mother’s disappointed voice whispering in her conscience.

  She strips down and steps onto the tiled floor. Her heart aches at Nick resting his head on his forearm against the shower wall, oblivious to the water pouring down his back.

  Taking a shaky breath, she steps closer to him. “Can I come in?”

  * * * *

  Shae’s soft voice pierces his thoughts and his heart as she takes a hesitant step toward him. Her fingers twist around each other, short, pink nails pressing into her palms. In the steamy enclave, wisps of hair curl around her face, sprinkled with beads of water splashing against her and trickling down her creamy, smooth skin.

  She pauses, biting her lip. Tentative. Vulnerable. Insecure. Because of him. Because he’s nothing but a fucking, selfish bastard who frightens the woman he loves and makes her doubt his feelings. He has to make her understand how sorry he is. How much he needs her.

  “Always.” He holds out his hand, his chest constricting from the fear she might not accept, may not welcome his touch. “You never have to ask.”

  Her fingers grasp his, her once bright eyes drowning in an ocean of tears. “I’m so sorry. I should never have—”

  Fuck this. She deserves so much better than the hell he puts her through.

  He sweeps her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressing his mouth against hers, halting her needless words. Water ricochets off their bodies crushed together under the dual waterfalls, and she relaxes in his arms, parting her lips to let him delve deeper. Slippery hands glide up his back, soothing his anguish from pushing her away.

  All he can see is her, all he knows is her touch, blazing over his skin, insistent on building their connection again. His fingers drive through her tumbling hair, holding her head in place as he pulls back and meets her tortured gaze. “I need you, and you’re here. Nothing else matters.”

  Ragged breaths heave in her chest as her fingertips clutch his shoulders. “I need you more.”

  “Promise you’ll never leave me.”

  “I swear.”

  He presses her against the wall and thrusts inside her. Unable to hold back from driving into her softness, shuddering at the feel of her around him. Her arms encircle his neck, and she nuzzles his cheek, whispering his name into his hair while he grasps her hips, not allowing any space between them. “Do you know how much you mean to me?”