Their breathing seesawed back and forth. He slid one hand up and down her back and wove the other into her hair. He told her every imaginable thing he could think of. It wasn’t the first time that’d happened. When they came together, it was like truth serum. But every word he could think to say came out as, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And all was right in his world. They laid there forever. She might’ve fallen asleep. He might not have cared. Never had he ever thought something could feel as perfect as she did.
Nicola took a deep breath, resting her chin on his chest. “We have to tell him. Tonight. No more waiting.”
He nodded. No more waiting was right. “Tonight. We’ll all go grab a beer. It’ll be okay.”
“I don’t care if it’s not. I’ll text him.” She rolled off him and reached for her clothes. She looked down at him. “But you’re right. It’ll be fine. Maybe.”
“Roman’s my best friend, but you’re my life. Everything will work out. Promise.” He hugged her tight. “Believe me?”
“Absolutely.”
He got up, trashed the condom, and pulled on his pants. Nicola groaned with her phone pressed to her ear.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Voicemail from work.” She rolled her eyes. “They didn’t know that I was there earlier and left. They want me to come in early tomorrow.” She ended the call and began texting. Roman probably. “I can’t keep up.”
“So quit. You don’t need them.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“What?”
“I hate to fail, hate to fall behind. The whole thing’s occupying my thoughts.”
He tossed a pillow at her. “Well, you can’t go to work early. You have class. Besides, something freaked you out earlier.”
Chewing her lip, she was thinking way too hard about that internship. “I completely overreacted. Like, big time. I’ll go back today. Knock some stuff out. It’ll keep me occupied before we tell Roman.”
He chuckled. “Roman’s not going to be that bad.”
“Ha. Yes he will. He’s the most overprotective brother I’ve ever seen.”
Cash tilted his head. “True.”
“I love him like crazy though. It never really bothered me until—” She pointed her finger at him and her, back and forth. “Until this.”
“Really, you’re over thinking this.”
She buttoned her black pants. “I’ll focus on work.”
“Work is what’s working you up. In addition to Roman.”
“I’ve just got odd ideas in my head. It’s my overactive imagination. I’ve been poking around, and really, I’m a self-fulfilling prophecy. I keep thinking things are true because I’m looking for corroborating evidence that’d fit.”
“Corroborating evidence?” He laughed and grabbed another pillow to toss at her.
Her phone rang, and she held it up. “Roman.”
His stomach jumped. “Answer it.”
“Hi.” She nodded. “Well, how about you meet me and Cash at High View at nine tonight?”
Still nodding, she agreed to something and hung up.
“Nine tonight?” he asked.
Her eyes were wide, and her lip rolled into her mouth. “Yup. Oh my God. I’m nervous.”
“Nah.”
“I am. Oh God. Okay, I’m going to work. That’ll occupy me.”
And I’m going out too. “Sounds good. Pick you up beforehand.” He nodded. His nerves were going a million miles an hour but not for any reason she could probably guess. With a quick kiss, he jumped up before he could slow down and think tonight through. “Love you.”
And he was out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Parked and heart pumping, Cash drummed on the steering wheel with his thumbs and thought about the wad of cash in his wallet. He jumped out, slammed the truck shut, and pushed through the store’s heavy door. A woman in a black suit and megawatt smile greeted him. Behind her, a very large man in a dark suit hovered.
“Hi, can I help you?” She didn’t do a once-over of his jeans nor his wildly out of place cowboy hat.
“I need a ring.”
She smiled bigger, if that was possible. “A ring?”
“The ring.”
“Congratulations.”
They exchanged names, went through the cursory details of how he met Nicola. Then he recounted their story and the plan to talk to Roman later that night. The woman looked like she’d turned into a puddle of goo. Honestly, he’d been expecting a bit of a lecture or for her to salivate over the easy sale. But he got neither.
She sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a story like that before.”
He shrugged. “I’m not saying I’m going to give her the ring today. Or even this month. But I like the idea of having it. When the right moment comes along, I’ll be ready. Boy Scout’s motto or whatever.”
“When you know, you know.” She sighed again. “Let’s get started.”
Cash looked at case after case of rings. They were pretty but not right. Worry etched in the back of his mind. What if the right one didn’t jump at him?
“I have an idea,” the woman said.
Minutes later, a dizzying display of loose diamonds and random bands lay on a black velvet pad.
“What do you think?” She had tweezers in her hand, and every time she moved something, she used them. The whole thing seemed odd. Actually, the last hour had just been surreal.
Working his jaw back and forth, Cash saw that the options were more than he’d expected. Now, he could see why there were all those commercials about building her the perfect ring. He took a deep breath. This process was complicated… But Nic wasn’t complicated. She was classic and to the point except when he had her alone. Then she was near shy and insanely sweet. The perfect combination. How to translate that into a piece of jewelry?
Closing his eyes, he ignored everything that wasn’t important. When he opened, he pointed. “No, no. No. No and no.”
There. That was easy.
The woman smiled and tweezed away the bands and diamonds, leaving a classic solitaire and band. She picked up the band, tweezed the diamond in place, and held it out. His stomach jumped. Perfect. “Done.”
“Really?”
“It’s perfect.”
She folded her hands together, looking pleased with his selection. “That’s a memorable ring.”
Memorable. Unable to wipe the grin off his face, he knew that was exactly what he wanted. Like he’d gained some kind of super powers, he felt invincible, bigger, stronger, more of a man than he had his entire life, and all because of moving forward on a very easy decision. One day, Nicola Hart would be Nicola Garrison.
He walked out the door with a ring in a bag and pulled out his phone. He hit the number on speed dial. It was picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, it’s Cash.”
“Hey, buddy.” Nicola’s dad had been just like his dad his whole life except Rick insisted on a first name, and his dad generally responded to Dad. “Nic and Roman aren’t here. I heard you’re not coming for dinner this weekend?”
“Nope. But I do need to come see you.”
“Sure. Come on over whenever.”
“Can we keep this between you, me, and Janet?”
Rick paused. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just wanted to run something by you.”
“Sounds good, Cash. Swing by whenever. No big deal.”
“Right. See ya.” No big deal. I’m only going to ask if I can marry your daughter one day. That’s all.
***
Nicola parked next to the same dark vehicles and marched straight to the front door. No amount of odd noises or weird vibes would slow her down. On a mission to do right by her job, to catch up and do what was needed of her, she shelved all apprehensions and pulled on the front door. It opened, and thank God, because in her need-a-distraction-from-Roman focus, she’d forgotten that the door had be
en locked earlier.
Some lights were out. Some were on. No one was around. “Aleena?”
Nicola flipped a couple switches and heard nothing. Cars in the lot but no people milling around? She walked into Aleena’s office. There was the next folder of papers she was supposed to work on, and more work was her distraction goal. She grabbed it, uncovering a pink notepad. Nicola, underlined several times, stared back. And under her name—her heart stopped. Underneath her name was a list:
Janet- mother
Rick- father
Roman- brother
Cash- family friend?
Hannah- roommate
Brandy- roommate
What. The. Fuck? What was this? A background check? It was a little late for that. And her roommates and Cash?
Nicola sunk into the chair, staring at the paper. Apprehension choked her thoughts. What did that all mean? She jumped up, looked out the door. The office was still silent. She shook. A protective anxiety pulsed in her veins, and turning back to the desk, she moved fast, checking drawer after drawer. For what, she had no idea. She tried to wake up her computer. That didn’t matter. She didn’t know the password. Didn’t know—
She thought about Aleena’s life mantra, thought about that favorite phrase as she stared at it on a motivational paperweight. Nicola’s fingers trembled as she typed in GetItDone.
The screen came to life. With unorganized movements, she scrolled through the emails, did a quick search for her name. Several emails popped up, all with the same last name. Gianori.
Noise filtered down the hall from the warehouse. She quickly closed the screen and shut down the questions at the back of her mind.
Voices echoed down the hall, and maybe Aleena was in there. Maybe Nicola should march up to her and demand to know why that list had her loved ones’ names on it. She walked around a row of stacked pallets and saw several men in suits. A garage door rolled open, and a small group walked in. Wait. Were those children? And they were upset? What the hell was happening?
A woman’s voice pulled her attention back to the men in suits, and Nicola pressed up against the pallets, spying through a small space.
The woman shook her head. “No! Why do they have to be here? Not my babies. No!”
Oh my God. What was happening?
A large man took a menacing step toward the mother. “Shut up!”
The children were pushed toward the woman. She wrapped them in her arms. Nicola saw a man tied to a folding chair and straining to get away. He shouted at the men that he didn’t know or hadn’t done something. They ignored him, and the tied man used his head to direct his family away.
Nausea tore her stomach to shreds, and doom weighted her in place, unable to run away. Nicola couldn’t make her body leave. Amid the screams and pleadings, Nicola wanted to make the scene stop. But her eyes were glued and her mouth sealed.
The men looked angrier. More agitated. Aleena walked into the warehouse. Nicola watched her carry ugly green folders, identical to the ones she’d been working on, and hand them to one of the men. He paged through the files then threw one at the tied man. The mother screamed and lunged. Men held her back. Shouts volleyed. Accusations and promises escalated.
Then the man who’d received the folder walked away. The mother, still held back, yelled to the kids, “Look at me. Watch me. Look at me!”
Oh no. This couldn’t be happening—
Bam!
The gunshot blast echoed throughout the warehouse. The man in the chair was gruesomely dead. The woman sobbed, the children cried, and Nicola gasped, falling backward, clattering back on her butt.
“What was that?”
Fast footfalls came her way, and she ran. Out the warehouse door. Into the office.
The name Gianori popped back into her head. It all became clear. That name fit in with the likes of Gambino and Capone. That was it. Gianori was a mob name that made the news. The Gianoris were famous. But they weren’t in nowhere, Virginia. Except they were.
She rounded the corner toward the glass door. Two similar-looking men were strolling toward the front door, coffee cups in hand like there hadn’t just been a bam and people screaming. She slowed to a walk, tried not to hyperventilate, but she was crying, so what did it matter? She wiped her face, looked at the ground, and tried to walk by unnoticed.
“Hey,” one of them called.
“Goddamn it,” came from another man flinging open the office door. “Get her.”
Running as fast she could, gunfire pinged out a taillight and her trunk. She dove behind the car, crawling into the passenger door and over the center console. Not bothering to look up, she turned the ignition and blindly screeched through the lot. Gunfire blasted into the side of her car. A tire exploded. She screamed, barely able to see through her tears. Her car went uneven as she rounded the bend onto a wooded road. The building’s view was obscured from the main road—
She screamed again. A black SUV with flashing lights swerved in front of her. She hit the brakes. Other SUVs sped by. Two men dressed out of an action movie—black tactical gear with big, huge guns—ran at her. Nicola screamed and cried and threw her hands in the air because who the hell knew what was happening?
They opened her door, grabbed her like a rag doll, and half-carried, half-ran her to the SUV’s backseat with a hand slapped over her mouth. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. Finally, the gloved hand moved off her mouth, and she gasped for breath.
The action figure peeled back his hat. “Nicola Hart?”
Still gasping for breath, she nodded.
“I’m FBI Special Agent Hamilton. You have one minute. Listen carefully.”
She choked on a breath. “Okay.”
“You’ve been working for the Gianori family.”
She nodded. “I just found out.” She had to tell them about her family. About the list. About the murder she just saw. Her stomach lurched. She pointed, still unable to catch her breath. “They—”
“We thought we’d get there in time.”
She shook her head. Somehow, that made it even worse. She could barely breathe for all the sobs.
The man’s face pinched, and he looked toward another agent in the driver’s seat. After their silent conversation, he turned back to her. “You are the only person who knows details on their network. We need your help.”
“Help?” She wiped her face.
“Nicola. Listen to me.” The agent’s firm stare bore down. “We need your help to make sure that never happens again. We need to learn what—”
“But I don’t know anything.”
“You know more than you realize.”
“They just murdered a guy in front of his children.” She sobbed again. Then panicked. “They have my family’s names.”
“I know.”
What? She struck the man’s chest. “You know? You know!”
“The Gianori crime family is…” He braced her, sitting her back in her seat. “I’m sorry you were sucked into this.”
Maybe she was in shock, because that violent execution repeated in her head over and over. “They killed—”
“They will kill you too.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“And your family. Loved ones. It’s what they do.”
Nicola pushed away from him and slapped on the door for the handle. “No.”
“Do you know what witness protection is?”
“What?” She pushed back again. “No! I’m not doing witness protection. You have to—” She choked. “Leave everyone.”
“They’ve got your family pegged. Your boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend?” No one even knew…
“There’s a hit order on all of them if you—”
“What?” She couldn’t process any of this.
“You have one minute to decide. Help us out, you will be safe. Your loved ones will be safe. The Gianoris will think you’re dead.”
“Dead?”
He nodded. “Easiest thing would b
e car accident—explosion —given how you tore out of that parking lot.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then they get away with murder. Again. The murders that you helped cover up. You’ll forever wonder when they’re coming for you. Your family. And they will.”
“No.” She cried. “Why didn’t you find me sooner? Why didn’t you stop this?”
“No one expected this today. But it happened. Take a deep breath, and think. You walk away, but your family lives. You will protect them. You’ll save them.” He paused. “No one wanted this to happen the way it did. But it’s done. We have a plan. We can make this work, but decide now.”
“Now?” She sucked in a deep breath, mopping at her eyes, her nose. “I need to call—”
He shook his head. “You can’t.”
“But—”
“Not if this is what you decide. Save your family. Help prosecute those fucks.”
Her mind froze. The pink post-it note with the names listed floated in her memory. As if she needed additional prodding, the agent handed her pictures and papers. Cold, hard proof that the Gianoris were evil, evil people. Dead bodies. Crying families. Newspaper articles.
“Don’t let this happen to your family.”
The next photograph was of her parents. Her jaw shook. Tears ran freely. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
“Last chance.”
“This isn’t fair,” she moaned, but the man said nothing.
Finally, he nodded. “It’s not. But the Gianoris have to think you died. Your family too. Save their lives.”
Falling into a blubbering heap, she nodded.
“It’s the right thing to do. The only thing.” He turned from her, speaking toward the front seat. “Let’s go.”
Their SUV began to drive away, and she pulled away from him, staring out the window. Her car, without her in it, rushed around them.
“Wait. My purse. My phone.”
The man shook his head, and whatever else he had to say turned to white noise. She was dead inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Laid out on the couch and housing a sleeve of crackers, Cash concentrated on ignoring that stupid-awesome smile that kept creeping up on his face. Twice, Roman asked him why he grinned like a fairy. Twice, Cash had realized he smiled like a lunatic. The guy hadn’t connected Cash’s over-the-top mood to drinks with Nicola tonight. T-minus two hours, and everything would be in the open.
Sweet Girl (Titan) Page 15