Fuck that. She agreed to stay at the house, but refuses to be trapped. “I don’t know how you stand him smothering you.”
Shae’s soft gaze meets hers, filled with concern rather than anger. Why should she expect anything different from someone so kind? God, she’s such a bitch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just meant--”
“It’s okay. I know it seems that way sometimes.” Sadness darkens her face as she lets out a deep breath. “Nick’s father abused him and his mother, and he was too little to do anything about it. He’s carried that guilt all his life. Now he worries about protecting us...” She rests her hand on her stomach, caressing the slight curve. “...maybe more than necessary. But, I give him what he needs to keep him from torturing himself about the past.”
Her heart pounds at the realization. Why Max loves Shae. Or thinks he does. He has to be a good friend to Nick to relieve his guilt at disappointing the people he loves. The same fierce loyalty that makes her love him. It’s always been about keeping all of them safe. Never about not loving her, not letting her into his heart.
“I need to go. I have to take care of something for Max…” She flinches at her voice catching. Breaking from emotion is difficult to get used to. But she refuses to be weak. Or sit around. She’ll be ready when he comes back. “I promised him.”
Shae’s lips part before she pauses and nods. Nick will go ballistic, but Shae understands. Knows when you have to break the rules to save the man you love. “Max trusts Cord to guard you, so take him and Leo with you. Jacks can drive you in the limo.”
“Really? You’re not going to try and stop me?”
“Would I be able to?”
The first genuine smile in a long time crosses her lips. “No.”
“If you’re going to do it, we’ll do everything Nick and Max would do to keep you safe. Then they can’t be too mad at us.”
Another reminder Shae’s stronger than she looks. Or that any of them give her credit for. “I like conspiring with you.”
“Me too. Please be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
Shae nods again, a faint smile lessening some of the worry lining her face. Sweet but resilient. No wonder Nick loves her so much. Shae rises from the bed. “I’ll let Oscar know you’re going out and have...” Her eyes sink shut as she wobbles, putting her hand out and grasping at nothing.
Shit! Fear burns through her body at Shae slumping against her as she grabs her friend’s waist. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I get light headed sometimes when I stand up. It’s been worse since I’ve been pregnant.” After blinking a few times, Shae meets her gaze and smiles again, faint pink brightening her cheeks. “Just low blood pressure.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I promise. Don’t worry.”
That’s all she can do. Nick’s going to go fucking crazy that she’s sneaking out and now his wife almost collapsed. She can’t do this. Shae needs her. “Maybe you should lie down. I’ll help you upstairs, and we can call Nathan and Carrie.”
“Now who’s being over-protective?” She shakes her head before striding toward the door. “I’m fine.”
No point arguing with Shae’s back. Okay. She’ll see Richard, drop off the signed papers, and come right back. She dismisses the swirling in her belly. It’s the perfect plan.
#####
The banging of locker doors muffles their footsteps on the concrete tiles. Cord remains as silent as the groggy-looking kids lugging their backpacks behind them. Probably still irritated that once again he’s defying orders because of a woman, his jaw clenching tight while he scans the corridor. Although this time Shae instigates the trouble, not her. She purses her lips to keep from smirking. With the boss unreachable in the air, none of the men are willing to challenge Mrs. DeMarco, even though they’ll suffer Nick’s wrath if this goes bad. But, it won’t. She can’t let it.
She pauses in the doorway. Richard sits with a student, nodding as she plays a hesitant version of Someone Like You on the piano. The girl’s shoulders fall along with her hands after she finishes, waiting for his verdict.
“Much better. I can tell you’ve been practicing. Pick up the tempo at the beginning, and you’ll be ready for Saturday.”
A huge smile lights her face as she stands up, scooping the sheet music from the black ledge “I will. I promise, Mr. Williams.” She stuffs the papers in her pink bag and races past Gina and Cord into the hallway to her waiting friends.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” Richard glances from her to Cord and back again. “What’s going on? You’ve never needed a bodyguard before.”
“Long story.” She shrugs at his frown. He questions, but doesn’t push, not really wanting to hear the details. At least that’s another lie she tells herself. To protect him from the part of her world he always hates. She steps closer, leaving Cord by the door. “Sorry about last night.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“I’m okay.” She pulls the envelope from her purse and slips out the thin stack of papers. “I just need you to sign these.”
He lets out a deep breath before he accepts them from her outstretched hand. A bell sounds from the hallway, maybe signaling the first class. But, he doesn’t react. No hurrying or checking the clock. Keeps his eyes on the papers and scrawls his signature. Her heart and head battle. She hurts both of them with her request, yet it’s the right thing to do. Even more for him than her. He can be free. Relieved. Happy. And, she’ll be...whatever happens with Max.
“I knew it wouldn’t last.” Richard nods his head, his voice small as if talking to himself more than her. “When we stood on that altar before God and our families and friends, I knew I was kidding myself when you said forever. But, I wanted you so much, I was willing to take whatever you gave me for however long you’d give it to me.”
Her stomach clenches at the defeat in his words, mimicking her own thoughts from that day. Deep down knowing she didn’t love him the way she should or he deserved. Their marriage only a temporary solution to her rebellion from everything she despises.
“I wanted it to be real. I really did. You gave me what I needed, when no one else could.” She shakes her head, shame filling the hollowness of her soul. “And you only got shit in return.”
“Why?” He finally looks up, his furrowed brow twitching as his gaze meets hers. “Of all the men you could have had, why did you pick me?”
“You weren’t part of my father’s world. You had this…” She waves her hand around the empty classroom. “A life that was real, a normal job working with the kids, going to church every Sunday, dinner with your parents on Tuesday nights. Normal. No guns or danger or threats.”
“Boring.”
A bittersweet smile crosses her lips. “No. Peaceful. Kind. Patient. I loved sitting with you while you worked at the kitchen table, grading papers and making practice schedules and worrying over your students. You were always so calm when parents called you all in a huff because their kid sucked, like it was your fault.”
His gentle laugh releases some of the tension gripping her muscles. At least they can still talk, maybe be friends.
“Yeah, I liked it when you kept me company, deep in thought with your sketching. After a while you’d wander off. I’d find you in your studio, just as content but not with me.” This laugh harsh with bitterness. “I knew I lost you when you stopped sitting with me at all.”
Hiding from him when she couldn’t stand the guilt of lying anymore. Of pretending she was happy and fulfilled. That she was the good wife who went to recitals and competitions, supporting her good-hearted husband and his passion. All the while really wanting to scream. Loud. And go skinny dipping. Dance on tables. Make cocktails she couldn’t pronounce but didn’t need to say, just to drink. Her true self she’d been keeping from him.
“Then when you told me you were pregnant, I thought we had a second chance. That maybe a child of our own would bring us togeth
er again. Instead, we drifted farther apart.”
Kind enough to sugar-coat the truth. Of how she really treated him. “Not because of her. Me. I did this.”
“Because I was never enough.”
“You were everything.”
The crack in her voice grates in her ears, so weak and vulnerable. She’s spent too long destroying him, instead of being strong and releasing him from her punishment he never deserves.
“No.” He folds the papers and taps them against the desk. “I’m just a dull, poor teacher trying to help a few kids find their talents.
“Yeah, and I’m just a bitch. I’m so sorry for pushing you away.” The speech she practiced in her head doesn’t flow as easy to her lips standing in front of him. “I blamed myself. I thought Lily died…”
“I know. I heard you.”
Her head flies up at his confession, the pain coiling through his voice. “What? When?”
“That night at the hospital. After you kicked me out.” He swallows hard, licking his lips before he can continue. “I sat outside your room. Right there on the floor, under the white lace angel hanging from the door.”
All the air in her compressing lungs swells into a suffocating sob at the reminder. A symbol of lost dreams floating to heaven, their hearts flying farther than their fingers can reach.
He meets her gaze, the watery shimmer in his eyes matching her own. “You told her everything you would never say to me. When the nurse took her from you for the last time, I was the one who carried her to the morgue. Held her until the people from the funeral home came. I told her…”
His voice drops to a strangled whisper at the details she never knew, thought she didn’t want to know. Her daughter was dead and nothing else mattered. But, relief fills her shattered heart that Lily was wrapped in love until the very end. Desperation claws at her throat. She has to know. More than everything or anything else she’s ever needed. “What?”
“I told her all the things I wanted to tell you, but you wouldn’t let me. That we both loved her more than she would ever understand. That I didn’t know what love really was until I learned that she was going to be my daughter. And how much it hurt…”
He sucks in a breath as she wipes the tears from his cheeks. He deserves more, better than her. “I’m sorry.”
His nod releases some of the turmoil squeezing her chest, accepting her apology. His long fingers glide around her waist, her sobs muffling against his sweater, unable to tell where her cries end and his begin. The pain they should have shared a year ago finally releases at the demise of their relationship.
He strokes her hair until the heaves subside. “Thank you for telling me. I always hated we could never talk.”
“Me too.”
“I love you. If you ever need anything, no matter what it is, I’ll help you.”
Her fingers uncurl from the scratchy fabric, and she leans back to meet his sad smile. “Same here. I’ll always--”
Chimes echo in the empty space again, interrupting her final promise and inviting in a stream of students. Two pre-teen girls pass by, wide-eyed and nudging each other. She forces a grin too, and then kisses his smooth cheek, his skin hot under her lips. “I’d better go.”
He nods and turns back to the kids. “Okay, let’s try and keep it down to a dull roar this morning. Bailey, please pass out the…”
Cord doesn’t speak as they walk down the hall, yet his scowl from earlier fades. Of course he heard, but too polite, or maybe scared to say anything. Probably for the best. If he reminds her of Max anymore, she won’t be able to hold back the grief threatening to swallow her.
She leans her head against the black leather, the hum of the road the only sound as they drive. The pendulum between relief and fear swings in her chest. Her divorce is final and strangely her relationship with her now officially ex-husband is the best it’s ever been. An underserved blessing she’s never been more grateful for. Yet, the unknown still curls fear in her belly. Hating being prisoner to the hours of waiting until they hear from Nick. Or, please God, Max himself.
After stepping out of the limo and thanking the guys, she pushes open the front door and walks through the foyer. Silence greets her except for Nick’s housekeeper in the kitchen, flipping egg-white omelets in a silver skillet.
“Hey, Marta.”
The older woman welcomes her with a quick smile before returning her focus to the over-sized pan. “Good morning. You eat too. Almost done.”
Uncertain if she can manage food with the knots in her stomach, she sits down anyway. Hopefully, talking with Marta and Shae will make the clock move faster. “Okay, thank you. It smells good.”
Glancing at her watch, Marta frowns. “Shae say come right back but she no here.”
The tangle in her stomach pulls tighter at Marta’s uncertainty. Maybe Nick called and Shae’s too upset to return for breakfast. She swallows down the terror stealing her voice. “I’ll get her.”
Once she reaches the stairs, she runs to the master suite and knocks on the door. What if they can’t find him? What if Max was taken someplace else?
Nothing.
Damn! With trembling fingers, she bangs on the wood again. What if he’s hurt? What if he’s…
No answer. Her impatience wins out and she yanks the knob, flying into the room. “I’m sorry, but I...”
Heat flames her shaking body as she drops to her knees next to Shae, lying in a halo of blood.
Chapter 14
Gina gently strokes Shae’s shoulder, the icy skin unmoving under her fingers. Just like her motionless friend. Please. Please. Please. Be okay. “Shae?”
A slight moan escapes her parted lips before a deep frown pinches her face. "Mom?"
Flames light her tense muscles at Shae’s breathless whisper. What the fuck? Isn't her mother dead? "No, it's Gina."
No response. The grimace lining her face fades away, along with her consciousness again. This is so fucking bad. “I’m going to get help. It’s going to be okay.”
The tremors in her voice betray her attempt to sound confident. To convince them both that everything will be all right. Lying to herself as well as her friend who can’t even hear her anyway. Who should be sitting in the kitchen enjoying Marta's amazing breakfast instead of collapsed and alone because her friend is such a selfish bitch.
She pushes off the floor and runs to the doorway, pausing in front of the security panel lining a quarter of the drywall. Trembling fingers skim over the buttons labeled with the locations of cameras positioned throughout the house and stab the blinking red circle. “I need...” Damn. The words choke in her throat, and she swallows hard. “I need help. Shae’s hurt.”
A sharp crackle erupts in the speaker before an unfamiliar voice fills the room. “We're coming. Stay with her."
Like what else the fuck is she going to do? She drops next to her again, and grasps Shae’s limp hand. No bruises or scratches. Just blood on her long hair and surrounding carpet. She must have hit her head. Maybe on the nightstand, where a toppled stack of books splays across the surface. Her heart throbs at the one on the floor. The Complete Book of Baby Names. Please God let them both--
Strong hands slide around her waist and jerk her backward before standing her on her feet. “What the fuck did you do to her?"
Oscar’s accusation burns her gut. “Nothing! I found her like this.”
He kneels down next to Shae. "Mrs. DeMarco? Can you hear me?"
Her stomach lurches from his two fingers sliding to the side of Shae’s throat. “She’s not dead.”
She can’t be.
His head whips in her direction. Anger boils in his gaze as it bores into her, his features tight with a rage she doesn’t understand. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?”
“I…”
Shae's wobbly voice breaks his punishing glare and both of them turn to her. Her friend’s eyes sink shut again, the exertion too much for her to keep going. Fuck! Unable to stop the tornado swirling in her c
hest, Gina steps closer, leaning next to the bodyguard. “She was dizzy earlier - before I left. I think she might have fallen and hit her head.”
His eyes widen and scarlet fans over his taut face. “Son of a bitch. You knew something was wrong with her and didn’t tell anyone? Great. Fucking great.”
“She said she was okay.”
A thick finger jabs in Shae’s direction. “Does she look fucking okay?”
Guilt crawls up her throat from the hardness of his tone, threatening to consume her. Oscar’s right. She fucked up, and this is all her fault. But, she can’t focus on that now. Shae needs her. “We don’t have time for this. She needs to go to the hospital.” She slides her phone from her pocket. Shaking fingers press nine and eight simultaneously. Damn it, she can't even fucking dial right. “Nick’s going to fucking kill me.”
Oscar steps back, shaking his head. The fury blazing his cheeks matches the fire in her stomach. A darkness fills his eyes that makes her shudder. “God, I hate that fucking bitch.”
His harsh swear barely registers over the pounding in her head and heart from the gun he pulls out of his side holster. “What are you doing?”
“He’s going to blame me.” He says words she can’t make out, can’t understand. Every ounce of focus remains on the shiny metal waving through the air before pointing at Shae sprawled across the crimson contrasting with the cream carpet. “Ever since he started fucking her, all this shit is my fault.”
Shit? What is he talking about? “No one blames you. It’s me. I left. He’ll be pissed at me.”
“Yeah, right. Fucking Enrique’s daughter is going to be in trouble.” A humorless laugh spits from his mouth as he smirks. “Just like when Carter kidnapped her. Or, she took off for the funeral. I tried to stop her, but I can’t fucking outrun an SUV. But, try telling Max and Nick that. They both think she’s so fucking perfect. She’s nothing but a stupid, trouble-making cunt.”
Agree. Disagree. What can she say to make this stop? What will force him to put the weapon down? He’s right. Nick will kill him. But, confirming his fear won’t fix this. Only one argument could work.
Truth About Tequila (Surviving Absolution #3) Page 11