by Leigh, Tara
The line cut out and I glared at my phone, so mad I wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp on it. What did I need a mobile for, anyway? Almost all of my communication was exclusively through instant messages or email. This way I would never have to talk to Nash again.
Even stewing with anger, a twinge of sadness chipped away at my temper. Is that really what I wanted? To never see or speak to Nash again? With a frustrated sigh, I did the next best thing. I turned the phone to silent.
My mind was still at odds, two warring factions battling it out, when a knock sounded at my door. Pushing the home button on my phone to check the time, I was surprised to see that half an hour had passed. The screen also showed several missed calls from Nash. Calls I had no intention of returning.
I slid Kismet off my lap and jerked to my feet, intending to tell the locksmith to get lost. Not that I didn’t need a new lock, Nash had proved to me that I did. I just didn’t want one bought and paid for by someone else. I didn’t have much cash, but I’d find a way to pay for it myself, thank you very much. No way was I going to use Nash’s guy. Not when I had every reason to believe he’d wind up giving Nash his own key.
I yanked at the knob, bypassing my usual glance through the peephole. “Listen, I’m sorry about the confusion—” The sentence died in my throat, my phone falling to the floor.
The man at my door was no locksmith.
CHAPTER TEN
Nash
Back off.
That’s what Nixie wanted from me. My ego was bruised that she was so emphatic about her lack of interest, but I was a big boy. I would get over it. Back off and move on. That was exactly what I was going to do. For my own sake, as well as hers. Nixie was a distraction I didn’t need.
Just as soon as I made sure she was safe.
I quickly dialed the number of the locksmith I’d hired. “Nixie Rowland is at her apartment. Make sure you install the highest quality lock on the market, whatever the cost.”
“Okay, I’ll get over there within the hour.”
I hung up the phone, still feeling unsettled. Something Nixie said was bothering me. I hit redial and asked the questions circling my mind. “Did you try to get into Nixie Rowland’s apartment today? Or examine her lock in any way?”
“No. I never even went into the building.”
My stomach clenched. “You never went into the building?”
“No. You said she lived in 4G. I rang the buzzer several times, and no one answered. A guy that looked like he worked there said I just missed her. But I’m free now, I’ll—”
I didn’t wait for the man to finish his sentence. Running for the elevator, I barked to Katherine, “Tell Jay to pull the car up front. Now.”
The second the doors closed, I tried calling Nixie but she didn’t pick up. Something was wrong, I could feel it.
I could feel something else, too. A connection linking me to Nixie. It was tenuous and fragile, but it was there. When I got Nixie back in my arms—and there was no question that I would—I just wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Nixie
Taking in my slack-jawed expression, Derrick’s lips twisted in a bitter attempt at a grin. “It’s a little late for an apology, don’t you think?”
After a moment of stunned silence, I recovered my wits. “Yes, it is.” I went to slam the door closed but Derrick stuck out a booted foot and shouldered his way in.
Fear coiled around my intestines as I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could make a peep, Derrick’s palm covered my face and he kicked the door closed. Kismet jumped off the bed, whining anxiously at my feet.
“Stop it, Noelle. We need to talk.” I smelled vodka on his breath, cigarette smoke on his hand. My stomach turned at the thought, but I opened my mouth and bit his fingers.
“Ow!” Derrick pulled his hand away, although not far enough. It dropped to my neck, his thick fingers wrapping around my throat. “Knock it off, I’m here to talk.”
For a moment I stood still, too stunned to move. Derrick’s fingers curved inward as if he was trying to palm a basketball, a strange look coming over his face. It was only when I tried to take a breath and failed that I jumped back, rubbing my throat where I could still feel the pressure of his grip.
Derrick had never really hurt me before. He’d yelled, even grabbed me by the shoulders and shaken me. But he had never attempted to choke me. This wasn’t the Derrick I knew, and I was nervous. Trying not to show it, I took another step back and crossed my arms. “I heard everything I needed to hear from you a year ago.”
“What you heard—” Derrick shook his head and made a sound somewhere between and growl and a groan. “It’s not what you thought.”
I rolled my eyes, then glowered at him. Nerves had given way to a bristling indignation. “Do all of you get some sort of playbook when you go through puberty?”
Confusion slackened his jaw. “What? Who?”
“Men,” I spat, as if the word itself was an insult. I’d recently begun to believe that Nash and Derrick were out of my life and now, in the span of a few hours, they were back. Both of them. “It’s not what it looks like. It’s not what you heard. It’s not what you thought,” I mimicked, deepening my voice and reaching down to give my crotch an adjustment. “I mean, can’t you guys put a little more thought into it?”
A storm cloud rolled over Derrick’s face as my rant seeped into his inebriated mind. “Are you seeing someone, Noelle?”
My gaze fell to his hands, now clenched into stiff fists at his sides. I was too mad to back down, though, even though I knew I should. “You barge in here and think we can have a conversation? Are you kidding me?”
“I want to know. I deserve to know.”
Taking a quick breath, I forced myself to think rationally. Maybe he did deserve to know. But not now, not like this. “Fine. When you’re sober, we can talk.”
His flush deepened. “No. Now.”
Kismet put herself between my legs and growled, something I’d never heard her do before. I shook my head. “Derrick, if you really want to talk, and not lie or try to intimidate me, we’ll do it another time.”
“You’re just saying that. You’ll disappear again, I know it.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. Derrick’s eyes were bloodshot, but not as wild as they had been a minute ago. His shoulders dropped and I sensed he was about to capitulate.
Just then, my phone lit up on the floor, Nash’s name running across the screen. Derrick’s nostrils flared. “Who the fuck is Nash Knight?” he ground out, taking an aggressive step toward me.
Before I could say anything, Kismet launched herself at Derrick, her teeth sinking into his thigh and hanging on. He cursed, shaking his leg and batting at the dog.
“Stop it,” I screamed, reaching for her.
But I was too late, Derrick’s thick hand made contact and Kismet flew across the room. The saddest yelp I’d ever heard scissored through my eardrums, followed by a high-pitched, quivering whine. I picked up the trembling dog, holding her to my chest.
Derrick was already backing away from us, his hands raised, palms facing out. “Noelle, I didn’t mean—”
I turned fierce eyes on him. “Get out!”
With a last, regretful look, he bolted through the door and I immediately grabbed for my wallet and keys. The vet was just a few blocks away. Making soothing noises, I started slowly down the stairs, Derrick’s heavy footsteps vibrating through the soles of my feet. A flash of light lit up the stairway as the front door opened, followed by a grunt and then a “Watch it, buddy.”
I recognized the voice immediately. “Nash!”
At my yell, Nash’s shoes pounded the treads. He was by my side in seconds, looking from the shaking dog to my reddened neck. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“There’s no time. You’re taking me and Kismet to the vet.”
Nash
Nixie wouldn’t let go of the dog, so I swept her u
p into my arms and carried both of them down the remaining stairs. Relief and rage coursed through my veins as I put them gently into the back of the Navigator.
“Jay, can you drive about two blocks up and then make a right? The vet’s office has a navy awning with a white dog on it.” Nixie spoke quickly, her voice high and trembling.
Jay merged into traffic as I stroked the dog’s head. “The guy who came barreling down the stairs just as I was coming in—was he the one that hurt you?”
Nixie gnawed at her lower lip, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.”
I took in her glistening eyes and relented. “Fine. But we will talk about it.”
She held my gaze and huffed a disgruntled sigh. I didn’t care. From the very first time I laid eyes on Nixie, darting into that alley, it had been obvious that she was running from something. But after my unsettling conversation with Eva, I’d convinced myself to let the matter drop, to let Nixie drop.
I wasn’t exactly sure what Nixie and I were, if anything at all, but now I knew that the something was actually a someone. Someone who’d hurt her, and the damned dog. And now he was at the very top of my shit list.
The receptionist at the animal clinic looked from Nixie’s face to the trembling canine and immediately ushered us into a small examining room. I leaned against the wall as the veterinarian took Kismet from Nixie and set her down on the examining table, running her fingers along the dog’s sides. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked.
Nixie’s wiped her eyes. “I was having an argument and I think Kismet thought I was in danger.” She paused, gulping air like she’d just come up from the bottom of a deep pool. I reached out a hand to squeeze her shoulder and the doctor looked up at me, her eyes sliding back to Nixie and snagging on her reddened throat.
Her face hardened, and I knew she’d connected me with Nixie’s injury. “Sir, I only allow one adult per dog. Would you mind stepping out into the waiting room?”
Nixie frowned as she caught the lie. We’d walked past an exam room with an entire family jammed in around their Labrador. “He’s not the one I was having an argument with.”
The doctor’s face looked unconvinced, but I only cared about Nixie. “It’s fine. If you want me to go, I’ll—”
“No.” Nixie shook her head and reached for my hand, her fingers slipping through mine as she looked at the vet. “It was my ex. Kismet thought he was going to hurt me, so she bit him. He slapped at her and she went flying.” Her voice cracked on the final word and I bit down so hard, if there’d been an atom of carbon in my molar I would have spit out a diamond.
The vet blinked, her scowl easing. “I can’t feel any broken bones, but I’d like to take her in the back for a quick X-ray. Is that okay?”
Nixie nodded. “Of course.”
She picked the dog up gently and eased through the door. “Be right back.”
“So, your ex-boyfriend.” The word left a foul taste in my mouth. “Has he done this before?” I gestured at her neck.
Nixie pulled her hand away. “Nash, stop it.”
My eyes bugged out. “Me? I just want to set him straight. The bastard will never so much as touch a hair on your head ever again.”
“You need to knock it off,” she grumbled, wrapping her arms across her chest and staring at me morosely.
I met her aggravated expression with one of my own. “Knock what off?”
“Stop saving me, all right? I can take care of myself.”
“Really? Doesn’t look that way to me.” My hands balled into fists as I stared at the red marks—fucking fingerprints—around her neck.
“That’s because you act first and look later. I’m not some damsel in distress that needs your protection.”
I released a pent-up sigh. “Fine. You are not a damsel, in distress or otherwise. Got it. Doesn’t change the fact that there’s some dickhead walking around out there that hurt you. He’s not going to get away with that.”
She bristled, but had to swallow her response when the veterinarian came back in. “Well, the good news is there’s no lasting damage to Kismet as a result of her high-speed collision with the wall. She does have a loose tooth, which may or may not be a consequence, and there is bruising on her right side, especially at her shoulder and ribs. She’ll need to take it easy for a few days, but she should make a full recovery. If she’s having trouble eating, or still appears to be in pain by the end of the week, bring her back in and we’ll take another look.”
Nixie reached out for the dog, her expression relieved. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
I took care of the bill, quashing Nixie’s protests by pointing out that she’d have to let go of Kismet to sign the receipt, and helped her into the car. “So, my place or my place? Take your pick.”
She sniffed. “No thanks, you can bring me back home.”
“The apartment he grabbed you from? Not a smart idea.”
Nixie’s eyes slid to the window. “Take me home, Nash. I mean it.”
“Nuh uh.” I shook my head. “You have exactly two choices. My apartment or my hotel suite. Pick.”
“I don’t have any of my things with me, or Kismet’s either.”
“Details. I’ll have them taken care of.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not your next fling.”
“I didn’t ask you to be.”
She cocked her head to the side, the arch of her ginger brow saying it all.
“Fine.” I put my hand up in mock surrender. “I won’t ask you again. Satisfied?”
“No. Not in the least.”
“Good. That makes two of us. Now, apartment or hotel?”
A minute passed, then two. Nixie finally relented, an annoyed sigh rattling her chest. “Since Greta wasn’t exactly pleased with my visit last time, I’ll go with hotel.”
“Good.” I caught Jay’s eye in the mirror and he nodded.
For the remainder of the ride, I sent a flurry of texts and emails, most of them to my in-house investigator. By the time we pulled up outside of the Ritz-Carlton, Battery Park, my assistant was waiting for us outside, a shopping bag at her feet. I handed it to Nixie. “Leash and collar, dog food, bowls, and some toys and treats.”
Deliberately ignoring me, Nixie turned her attention on Katherine. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you.”
My eyes widened. “You know I—”
Nixie rounded on me, anger bristling from every pore. “You’re not a hero, remember? Stop saving me!”
Katherine pressed her lips together as she watched Nixie stalk off into the hotel lobby. “I like her.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “That’s my problem too.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nixie
I carried Kismet and the shopping bag up to the enormous hotel suite Nash apparently rented on a permanent basis, waiting for him to join me. Mostly so that I could yell at him some more.
As the minutes ticked by, I paced the oversized living room. Who keeps one apartment in a hotel and one in a luxury skyscraper, just blocks from each other?
Nash Knight.
A man so infuriating, so cocky, so damn smug—I could barely stand to look at him.
Okay, that wasn’t true. I could barely stand to look at him because every glance set my face on fire, and I was sure he could see my racing thoughts. Including all those devoted to imagining what it would be like to have sex with him. Good? No. Great? No. Mind-blowingly amazing? Yeah. That one. At least if the other night at my apartment was anything to go on.
My apartment. Crap. What was I going to do if my apartment wasn’t safe?
Wait—what was I thinking? Nash had me so scattered I wasn’t focused on the most important thing of all. Derrick found me.
I lifted a hand to my throat, pressing fingertips against the tender skin as I bent to drop a kiss on the top of Kismet’s head. “Sorry, girl,” I whispered, feeling guilty that she’d put herself in harm’s way trying to prote
ct me. I broke up with Derrick because he was controlling and obsessive, and I wasn’t in love with him anymore. I’d run from him because I found out about his plan to marry me for my inheritance. But until the moment his hand had wrapped around my throat, I’d never reacted to him out of fear.
When I got tired of pacing, I wandered around the sterile apartment. Setting out food and water for Kismet, opening cupboards and closets, slamming drawers. Words and arguments ping-ponged inside my skull as I counted the seconds until Nash came upstairs so I could hurl them all his way. Five minutes passed, then ten. One hour edged into two. By the time I heard a knock, I was practically steaming.
Flinging open the door, eager to vent my outrage, the words clogged in my throat when my eyes fell on Jay bearing two suitcases, Kismet’s crate and doggie bed, and the backpack I used for school. I stepped aside to let him in. “You went back to my apartment?”
“Yes. Boss thought you would want some of your own things.”
“How sweet of him,” I drawled, as Jay set down my bags in the middle of the living room.
“He’s good like that.” He either didn’t catch my sarcasm or was choosing not to comment on it.
I made a noncommittal sound and put a hand on my hip. “Speaking of, where exactly is this model of thoughtfulness?”
Jay shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe home. Or maybe out.”
I blinked. “That’s helpful.”
“Sorry.” Jay kept his expression neutral. “Unless he needs a ride, I don’t get the details on his social life.”
It was well past dinner time, and after showing Jay out, I realized I was hungry. I could take a walk, pick up takeout. But despite my rant at Nash, I was in no rush to go outside by myself. Instead, I picked up the phone, ordered room service, and changed into pajamas.
What I really needed to do was think. When I left Derrick, I had a simple goal: to stay off his radar until my twenty-fifth birthday. Then I would claim my inheritance and start fresh, somewhere far away. But now, after he’d showed up at my apartment, determination blazing from his dark eyes . . . now I wasn’t sure I would ever be free of him.