Cato’s Heart

by Daniels, Phoenix

  The doctor was good, but he didn’t realize Nick had seen Rebecca in his office before she was attacked.

  “Look, Doc, I’m working a case. For Rebecca’s sake, I need to know what’s going on with her.”

  The doctor crossed one leg over the other and grinned at him as if he’d just fucked up. “Rebecca? Is that what you call her?” He reached for his pen and notepad and then slid his glasses on his nose. “How is the baby holding up?”

  The subject change was enough to shut Nick completely down. He sighed and sat back in his seat, the same seat where Dr. Thantos had dissected him more than once. It was clear he was no match for the shrink. All thoughts of Rebecca and her secrets dissolved at the mention of his unborn.

  “He’s well.” Nick’s chest swelled with pride when he spoke of his child.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes. His heartbeat is strong and he’s kicking like Jet Li.”

  “Him? You’ve really bonded with your child, identifying it as a son. What if the baby is a girl? Will you have the same bond?”

  Nick smiled. His heart squeezed at the thought of having a living, breathing reminder of his beautiful wife. He could just picture a bright-eyed, dark-haired beauty with a heart of gold.

  “Absolutely,” he answered honestly. “She would be the love of my life.”

  Dr. Thantos smiled and placed his notepad on the table next to him. “Do you think your baby, being the reminder of the wife you loved and lost would be too much for you to handle?”

  Nick smiled and shook his head. “I would think of my little reminder as a gift from God. If I could’ve kept Vera forever, I would have. But she’ll live on in our child.”

  “That’s a wonderfully hopeful rationalization.”

  “It is what it is,” Nick responded with a shrug. “Not many are fortunate enough to gain a loved one from the loss of a loved one.”

  “This is true,” Dr. Thantos agreed. He retrieved his notepad from the table. Without looking up, he asked, “How does Miss King fit into this equation?”

  Again, Nick was taken aback by the change in subject. He’d been sure that all conversation about Rebecca was done and he didn’t know how to respond to the curveball the doctor had thrown his way.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Rebecca King.”

  Nick shook his head emphatically. “I-I… she doesn’t. I told you I’m working on a case that she’s involved in.”

  Dr. Thantos looked at him suspiciously. “Nick, I was in that room. I saw the way you looked at her and the way she looked at you. The chemistry between the two of you is suffocating. Now, do you wanna talk about it?”

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  The doctor scribbled something on his notepad then asked, “Why not?”

  Nick blew out a frustrated breath. “There’s nothing to talk about. It’s nothing.”

  “Hmm…”

  Nick looked at his watch. The indifference in his response was becoming a source of irritation.

  “You have twenty minutes left, so we might as well talk about it.”

  A groan rumbled from Nick’s chest. “Talk about what, Doc? There’s nothing to talk about where Rebecca King is concerned.”

  He realized his tone was gruff, and his irritation was evident. On the other hand, Dr. Thantos’ demeanor remained calm and professional.

  “Let’s talk about the feelings of guilt you have because of your attraction to her.”

  Well, so much for getting info from the doctor. Nick realized all he’d done was set himself up to get “shrunk.”

  KING

  “So, the armed Adonis is picking you up again, huh?” Jessica teased.

  Rebecca ignored her friend’s ribbing and used the dry Rajasthani brush to sweep dust from the priceless Monet.

  “He’s been picking you up for the last two weeks. It’s a sort of coupling type of thing, right?”

  Rebecca looked up at Jessica with a frown and shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  “Um-hmm. So, I am curious. What kind of house guest is he?”

  “A very quiet one.” Rebecca chuckled. “Sometimes, I forget he’s even there.”

  “I doubt that,” Jessica scoffed. “That man is temptation for every sin ever invented, tucked into a pair of jeans. Hell, even my bad girl parts clench every time he’s in the room.”

  Jessica pushed her knees together and dropped her head. Thick red hair fell into her pretty face. Rebecca laughed at her animated display and slid the brush into its allotted slot in a canvas holder. After rolling the canvas and tucking it into a cabinet, she turned to her friend and placed a hand on her hip.

  “Are you done?”

  “A few more moments alone in my head with your cop and I will be,” she teased.

  Rebecca grabbed her purse from a smaller drafting table and pulled her phone from the charger. It was 6:45 and Nick would be pulling up any minute. She stuffed her phone in her purse and grabbed her backpack from a chair.

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” Jessica asked.

  “I have none. Tonight, I’m cooking dinner for my friend, Paula, and the rest of the weekend will be spent in a hot bath and a bottomless wineglass.”

  Jessica stood and ran her fingers through her thick locks. She finally appeared to get the hint that it was time to go.

  “By the way, why are you still here? No big plans for you?”

  “Nah, I’m babysitting my nieces for the weekend. We got a whole pamper party planned.”

  The smile on Jessica’s face was proof that she loved every minute she spent with her sister’s children.

  “And… I’m still here because we have acquired one of Leonardo DaVinci’s self-depictions,” she proudly announced.

  And she had every reason to be proud. Not many people would have the chance to enjoy the creativity and innovation of the likes of Leonardo DaVinci, but Jessica was about to become intimate with the genius.

  “Wow! I’d love to see that. Where did it come from?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t even been told which self-portrait it is.”

  Rebecca walked to her office door and held it open for Jessica. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s DaVinci.”

  “Exactly,” Jessica agreed as she walked out. “Have a good weekend. Stay safe.”

  “Wait,” Rebecca called out, seizing her arm.

  Something she had never seen from Jessica flickered in her mossy glaze. It was fear. She could swear she saw fear. Maybe she was still traumatized by the attack. Had Boogie’s friend hurt her more than she’d let on?

  Rebecca frowned, studying her longer than she’d intended. Apparently, it was long enough to make her friend feel uncomfortable.

  “What?” she flustered.

  Rebecca turned her around so they were eye to eye. “I know you said you were okay after… well, I just—”

  Jessica’s vulnerability disappeared with a blink. “OMG, Becky! I told you, I’m fine. You just worry about that muscular chunk of man meat who’s living under your roof.”

  The fact that Jessica was addressing her with a title she’d forbidden when they first met let her know it was a defense mechanism. It was her way of avoiding all discussion about the trauma she’d suffered at the hands of her enemies.

  “Jess…” Her friend’s name came out in a whisper.

  Jessica grabbed her upper arms and smiled. “What happened was terrifying, but you got the worst of it. And now, it’s over. Honestly, I’m fine. I worry about you.”

  Jessica squeezed her arms and put on a cheeky grin. “But now that Khal Drogo is living with you, I’m a little less worried.”

  Rebecca laughed and gave Jessica a friendly shove. She knew the night they were attacked had affected her more than she was willing to admit, but she was clearly going to jest her way out of dealing with it.

  “I’m gone. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Enjoy your weekend,” Jessica said after blowing a kiss.

 
; She watched as her friend clacked down the marble hall in 5-inch heels like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  Rebecca locked her office and made her way to the service exit. She walked out, and like clockwork, Nick’s unmarked squad car was right outside. He climbed out of the driver’s seat and a smile she couldn’t suppress spread wide at the very sight of him. As always, he pressed his large hand to the small of her back and led her to the passenger’s side.

  “Hey, lady. How was your day?”

  “Pretty good. Anything on Boogie?”

  Nick grabbed her backpack and opened the passenger’s door. He waited for her to sit before he kneeled.

  “Not yet, but we’re getting closer. Please don’t worry. We’ll catch him. Until then, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She placed her purse on the floor between her legs and relaxed against the seat. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he repeated softly. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat. He hopped in and looked over at her with mesmerizing eyes. The crooked smile he wore almost made her melt into the leather seat.

  “Where to? Straight home?” His question came out in a deep, masculine rumble that tickled her core.

  “I need to stop at the store to pick up a few things for dinner tonight. What time do you have to be back at work?”

  He raised a brow. “Wait. Dinner? You cook?”

  Rebecca recoiled and placed her hand on her imaginary pearls. “Of course, I cook. What do you mean?”

  Nick shook his head and shifted into drive. “I’ve been in your house for about two weeks now and I ain’t ever seen you prepare nothing but coffee.”

  Rebecca gasped. “I resent that. I made you lunch the other day.’

  “Ramen,” he refuted. “Ramen is not lunch, young lady. What are you cooking tonight, Pop Tarts?”

  “Shut up!” she blurted out, playfully slapping his arm. “I cook!”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so! And… I asked you a question. What time do you have to be back?”

  Nick smiled and placed his hand over hers as it rested on her thigh. “I’m all yours. I’m off tonight, which is perfect. I wouldn’t give up a chance to see you cook.”

  * * *

  Rebecca poured a cup of coconut milk in the saucepan and covered it to simmer. She looked over and checked on Nick whose sole job was to chop carrots. He’d been at a job that normally took 5 minutes, for about 35 long minutes. But she wouldn’t dare complain. After all, the longer he fumbled with his task, the more she enjoyed watching the contracting and flexing of the muscles in his arms.

  “At some point, those carrots will have to make it to this pot.”

  “Look here, lady, I never said I could cook. Now, leave me alone to my chopping.”

  Rebecca grabbed a cutting board from the rack and pulled a knife from the block. “I would like to have dinner before breakfast,” she teased.

  She joined him at the counter and grabbed a carrot. As discreetly as possible, her eyes roamed his strong torso and muscles that had no chance of being concealed by the T-shirt covering him.

  “I’ve never had oxtails,” he confessed.

  Rebecca gasped. “Whaaaat? I am shocked,” she mocked. “Never had an oxtail?”

  Nick frowned in feigned offense. “Don’t judge me, woman. This is not common food.”

  “It’s common, Nick.” She chuckled. “Especially where Paula is from.”

  “And that is?”

  “A small parish on the island of Jamaica.”

  “Oh. So, oxtail is a Caribbean dish.”

  “The way I’m preparing it, yes.” Rebecca swept the carrots from the cutting board into a colander and collected Nick’s carrots. “This is enough.”

  As she took them to the sink to wash, she thoughtfully contemplated the discussion she wanted to have. After following him to the hospital room of a dark-haired woman and seeing the way he behaved when Dr. Thantos entered her hospital room, she needed to know what haunted him.

  She turned and rested against the sink. Nick was busy wiping the counter with a dishcloth. He looked up as if he could feel the questions burning in her.

  “This I can do,” he said with the sexiest of boyish grins.

  “I’m proud of you,” she quipped.

  “Ha-ha. What’s on your mind? I can see the wheels turning.”

  Rebecca walked over and joined him at the counter.

  His face was etched in concern. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Dr. Thantos,” she said softly.

  His expression changed immediately. Her face warmed from the sadness that clouded his blue gaze. The sad look in his eyes disappeared as quickly as it came. He avoided her scrutiny by looking away.

  “That smells delicious,” he muttered, moving to the sink. “I can’t wait to try your oxtails.”

  “Nick? Dr. Thantos,” she pressed.

  “What about Dr. Thantos? I would think you knew everything you needed to know about the doctor. After all, it was you he paid a visit.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Yes. I am acquainted with the doctor, but I want to know why you’re acquainted with him.”

  He turned his back to fold the washcloth and hung it from the sink.

  “Nick? We met in his office, I know what he specializes in, and I’ve seen you with the woman.”

  He turned quickly and glared pointedly at her. “What woman?” His tone warned that he was losing patience, but Rebecca needed to know what caused the sadness that often consumed him.

  “The woman you visited in the hospital, the woman with the long, dark hair.”

  “How did you—”

  “I followed you,” she admitted in a whisper. Her chin lowered in shame.

  “What?” He gasped as if disgusted.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He turned his back to her again and clutched the sink tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. “That’s not creepy at all,” he muttered under his breath.

  “It was unintentional,” she lied. “We happened to be headed in the same direction.”

  Nick turned to her, searing her with an accusatory glare. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a whisper. She’d admitted her lie without voicing it. But if she wanted honesty from him, she needed to reciprocate.

  Nick sighed and walked around the island. He took a seat on one of the stools. “Hand me a beer, please.”

  Rebecca complied. She walked over to the fridge, opened it, and felt for the coldest bottle. Once she found it, she closed the fridge and walked it over to him.

  “Thank you.”

  After a nod, she walked around and took the stool next to him.

  After seconds of uncomfortable silence, he spoke, “I-I’m… She was… She’s my wife,” he admitted with a sigh.

  He’s married. The words he spoke hurt like a knife to the gut. “Wife?” she asked more pathetic than she’d intended.

  Nick looked at her through eyes filled with melancholy and compassion. “Yes. She’s my wife… Vera. And she’s pregnant.”

  Rebecca’s heart sank as if something of extreme importance had been taken away from her. She was speechless. There was nothing to say. She’d asked for the truth and he was giving it to her, painful or not.

  “What’s wrong with her? Why is she in the hospital?”

  Nick rested his elbows on the counter and blew out a breath. “Car accident.” He breathed, “It left her brain dead.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened. Her lips parted to console, but she couldn’t find the words.

  “The baby… the baby is strong. So, a machine is keeping her alive long enough to carry our child to term.”

  “Oh, my God,” Rebecca gasped. She reached for his hand and clutched it inside her own. “Oh, my God, Nick. I am so sorry.”

  He nodded but remained silent. Rebecca was speechless, but what was there to say? She had no great words that could ease his pai
n. As uncomfortable as it was, she sat quietly consoling him with his hand in hers. She wondered what was worse, dying or denying the imminent death of the one you love so that she may serve as an incubator.

  “And you?” he asked, slicing through the silence. “Why are you seeing Dr. Thantos?”

  Rebecca pulled her hand from his. As she often did when she was nervous, she tucked her hair behind her ear. Her heart raced at the thought of explaining her heart condition and pending fate to him. She’d only ever spoken of it to Paula and Dr. Thantos and had no intention of telling anyone else. But now that her father was in her life and Nick had bared his soul, she figured she owed them the truth.

  “My heart…” Her words were raspy. She cleared her throat and continued. “I have a condition called—”

  Her words were cut short by the doorbell. Rebecca cupped his chiseled jaw and ran her thumb over the stubble. “That’s Paula. We’ll talk later.”

  He nodded, but she could see impatience and disappointment in his eyes.

  11

  Cato

  “Hit it,” Nick calmly ordered.

  Jimmy Gaston slammed the battering ram against the door’s hinge, splintering wood and sending the deadbolt flying. When the door flew open, he and his team ran into the drug house.

  “Police! Search warrant!” Nick called out.

  He crept through the quiet, dark hall with his weapon aimed and ready to fire. Since it was only 5AM, they may have caught their targets off guard. It was possible that they’d slept through the sound of the wood splintering as the door was torn from the hinges.

  He and his team swept through the low-income duplex under the guise of a narcotics search, when in fact, what they were truly in search of was Boogie. Nick had gotten a tip that Boogie might have been convalescing under the roof of his friend, Kane.

  Over the last couple of weeks, Nick and his team had been following several leads. They’d performed surveillance on his known hangouts and conducted five search warrants, but still no Boogie. Now, they were on search warrant number six in hopes of getting lucky.