by Kathryn Shay
He studied her for a long time, and she held his gaze unwaveringly. Then he drew away, walked to the door, opened it and left.
Stacey’s jaw dropped. She thought he’d give in. She glanced down at the books. He had tried with the books, with coming here. But he couldn’t finish the job.
And as she said, knowing him fully was a deal breaker.
That didn’t make her feel any better.
NICK STEPPED OUTSIDE into the early November air, hoping the crisp morning would make him feel better. It didn’t. He stopped at a bakery window two doors down from the bookstore and stared at the array of pastries, donuts and cupcakes on display. But he didn’t really see them. Instead, he saw Stacey standing before him demanding honesty. He saw that train barreling down the tracks, headed right for him and Ames. He saw the face of his sister and the man who’d debased her. Could he tell Stacey what he’d done?
Yet, how could he not? She was right. A relationship with her had potential. Would take them places. In his heart, he knew he couldn’t ask her to take a chance on him without knowing the truth. He’d have made the same demand of her if their roles were reversed.
More frightened than he’d been last night on the tracks, he pivoted, strode to the store, and went back inside. She was right where he’d left her only a few minutes ago, staring down at the books he hadn’t bought. When the bell tinkled, she looked up. Her eyes were glistening, but they filled with hope as soon as she saw him.
“All right. I’ll tell you.” He waved to encompass the store. “Somewhere private, though. Away from here.”
“Let’s go to my house.” She called back, “Cora, you can come out of hiding now.”
Her friend appeared. “Why, whatever are you talking about?”
“I’m taking the morning off.” She glanced at Nick. “Maybe the whole day. Can you and the others handle the store?”
“Gladly.” Her friend’s smile was broad.
She circled around the desk and Nick reached out his hand. She put hers in his and they left the store. Nick knew, deep in his heart, that one way or another, his life was about to change irrevocably.
NICK SAT ON Stacey’s glassed-in back porch, where an unusual November sun streamed in, warming them. He took the sunlight as a good omen. She curled onto the other end of the wicker couch, with her feet up under her; he angled his body to face her while he explained the awful thing he’d done. “I’ve never told anyone but Kelly and Will Rossettie this story. I want one thing from you.”
“Whatever you need, Nick.”
“That you won’t try to make this better. Say I didn’t do anything wrong. Because I did.”
“All right. I won’t. Tell me.”
Nick began the tale and it was as if he was back there on that cold December Christmas Eve…
A nasty fire had broken out in a part of New York City where drug dealers and pimps resided. More often than not, when calls came in from the neighborhood, the guys grumbled that they should let the damn buildings burn down and cleanse society of the scum of the earth. In his youth, Nick had never believed that. He’d believed everybody could be saved. And tonight, he was feeling better about Kelly, at least; he’d sent her to stay with friends out west right after Alban’s visit. They were both terrified he’d come after her again. Who knew what those animals would do to her then? It had been all over the television lately about the abuse, rape and torture human traffickers perpetrated on their victims. Her absence from Hidden Cove didn’t solve the problem of keeping her safe long-term, but it put his mind to rest during a very busy Christmas. The department always got a ton of calls during the season of yule logs and lights, both inside and out.
Nick was told to follow his captain—who was on point—into a five-story building. It was mega-hot inside and he perspired badly. An engine company slapped water on the fire on the first floor, and Nick’s group all split up to search the next four floors. Riley and his buddy were ordered straight up to the fifth because they were the youngest and would have to climb the stairs with sixty pounds of gear. As soon as he reached the top of the building, he knew something was different, because the hallway was carpeted in rich red and there was fancy wallpaper on the walls. And only one apartment door.
“Strange,” Nick called out to Pete.
“These fuckers probably got a lot of dough. And we don’t want to know how they got it. They should all burn in hell.”
Pete knocked on the door and called out, “Fire department. The building is on fire.” No answer. “Go ahead,” Pete told Nick.
Lifting his pry tool, he popped the door and it fell inward. Smoke billowed out from the interior. Though they could still see inside, a light curtain of gray obscured everything but shapes. “Go right and I’ll go left,” Pete said.
Pete went into the kitchen and Nick headed to closed double doors. He opened them and found…holy shit! This must be some sex penthouse because chains hung from the ceiling, straps dangled off the walls, and on one, there was a kind of wheel big enough to hold a person. Jesus, Nick was young; still, he knew these things existed, but he’d never seen them. He heard a moan from the bed and walked farther into the room. He found a young girl tied up—her hands and feet were each bound to a bedpost, and she was naked. Removing his glove, he put his fingers on her neck. Pulse was fairly strong.
Trying to ignore that she was the same age as Kelly had been when she was grabbed, he cut off the ropes with a knife. Then he found a quilt on the floor, wrapped it around her but not before he saw a pattern of ugly purple bruises. He picked her up. She was light enough to carry over his shoulder. They started out quickly because Nick knew smoke inhalation up here could be deadly. He was circling the bed when he caught sight of a body next to a dresser about five feet away on the floor. Shit. The body shifted. He knew he shouldn’t judge. But he was carrying a young girl who’d been bound, beaten. And the man on the floor was naked, wearing cowboy boots and had a riding crop in his hand.
Still, Nick set the girl back on the bed and turned the guy over. Then he looked into a face he’d never forget for the rest of his life. Mr. Alban. Fucking shit, how could this be? Sure, this was the neighborhood where the creeps of New York lived, but what were the chances of this happening? Alban opened his eyes. “Help me,” he barely got out. Then his head lolled to the side. Nick took his pulse.
Passed out. Not dead. Too bad.
Something inside him said, He’s not dead, but he could be. And your sister would be safe from him forever.
But Nick couldn’t leave a man to die. It went against everything he believed in. Then he remembered what had happened to Kelly when this animal had come to the house. She’d turned totally compliant. What had this guy done to make her that way? And would she ever get over it? Or worse yet, would the monster find a way to get her back and do the unspeakable to her again? And then go on to victimize others?
Ten minutes later, carrying the girl over his shoulder, he emerged from the building. Pete was ahead of him. There was no one else in the apartment he’d checked, though Pete had found two rooms behind the kitchen with cots in them.
Ambulance personnel ran up to him and took the girl. “Keep her covered,” he said taking off his helmet. “She’s naked.”
His captain looked over and gave him a thumbs-up. “Good save, Nicky.”
“Thanks.”
“Nobody with her?”
“Guess not. Some prick left her naked and tied to the bed.”
“Asshole…”
Nick was yanked from the very real memory by the sound of crying. He looked to his left to see Stacey, with tears coursing down her cheeks. “I left Alban there, Stace. And he died. I knew he’d die of smoke inhalation by the time he was found. Pete could have carried him out. Saved him.”
“I’m so sorry, Nick.”
“That’s the kind of person I am. I’d do something like that.”
“Was your sister still in jeopardy from him?”
“Uh-huh. I’d sent her to
friends in California after he showed up at the house. But these kinds of people have long reaches.”
She let his words hang between them.
“It didn’t end there.”
Her eyes widened. “Someone found out?”
“No, I went to the police.”
“Oh, Nick.”
“Will Rossettie was captain in the precinct where my dad had worked until he died; it was near the firehouse. This was before 9/11. There’d been a lot of negative publicity for firefighters in the city because somebody made public our salaries, our time off, those kinds of things. One night, we were on a routine call and gunshots were fired at us. Turns out it was a trap.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Rossettie was worried that revealing what I’d done would make things worse.”
“What did he tell you?”
“What you’re probably thinking—that Alban was the worst possible kind of scum, that he deserved to die. That I’d probably saved a lot of other girls from Kelly’s fate.”
“All that’s true, Nick.”
“I know that.”
“But?”
“But it was wrong. I came as close to committing murder as anyone can come and not actually do it. I’ll live with that the rest of my life.”
She swiped at her cheeks. “I understand. It must be very hard to deal with.”
He couldn’t read her mood. Did she see the real him and hate him? Was she pitying him? “So, now you know.”
“I do. Thank you for telling me. And I’m not going to try to make it all right, as you asked.”
He nodded.
“You did something morally wrong, Nick. You have to live with it. It seems to me you should spend your time giving back to society. Helping others to compensate for what you did, or didn’t do, in this case.”
He was confused by her comment. It took him a few seconds to get the message. He was a firefighter and saved lives and property almost every day. He worked at the Joshua House, had given them tons of money, too. And he volunteered every year at Hale’s Haven. Maybe unconsciously he’d been trying to atone for his sins for a long time now.
Her eyes were sparkling with tears, glistening in the sunlight. She looked so lovely it twisted in his gut to say the next words. “I have no right to ask you for a relationship, Stacey. You’re so—”
She lunged across the couch. Threw her arms around his neck. “So help me God, Nick, if you say one more time I’m wholesome, or I’m too good for you, I’ll slap you up but good.”
Startled, he let himself chuckle.
“And no, I haven’t done anything like you did. And I have lived a more innocent, uncomplicated life. But I know people have faults. People have done bad things. Look at Rick Ruscio, Faith’s husband. Hell, you said yourself he deserved a second chance.”
Nick watched the beautiful young woman before him understand him. Accept who he was. Insist he go on with his life. He was, simply, astounded by her. But maybe he shouldn’t be. Who else could be so generous but the kind of woman she was?
And he was sick of the years of heavy guilt, of the albatross he’d carried all this time, as Rossettie had called it. Could she help rid him of the burden?
“Give us a chance, Nick. Let me help you deal with what you’ve done. Help you see that you are a good man.”
He wanted that. He needed that. He closed his eyes, thinking. When he opened them and saw her staring at him expectantly, he knew what he was going to do.
WITH A STINGING heart, Stacey watched the man who’d lived much of his adult life in the darkest of shadows. When he finished his story, after they talked, she waited for him to decide. To make the next move. His face was a mask of pain, his body hunched over as if he couldn’t bear the weight of his confession.
Finally, he straightened. “All right. I’ll give us a chance.” He gave her a grateful expression. “I want to make love. If you do.”
“Oh, God, yes.”
He stood first, then she did. He surprised her by sliding his hands around her back and under her knees. Cuddling her close, he carried her to the bedroom. Turning her face into his chest, she breathed in his scent, felt the hardness of his chest against her cheek. She hurt unbelievably for him and only wanted to offer comfort. That her feelings were so deep frightened her, but right now, she didn’t care about self-protection.
He stopped at the entryway to her bedroom and scanned the area. “This is you.”
She saw it from his eyes. Pretty peach walls. Beautiful oak trim. An oak, queen-size bed. He’d probably think it was wholesome.
“I redecorated two years after Jess died.”
“As I said, it’s you.”
Crossing to the bed, he set her down on her feet, lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You are so lovely. Right now, you take my breath away.”
He was vulnerable. Raw. But she let his words into her heart, let them curl inside her like a kiss. “Thank you.”
He brushed his thumb across her lips then stepped back.
“So,” he said, kicking off his shoes. “What do you say? Shall I undress for you?”
Oh, wow, he was trying to lighten the pall his disclosure had cast over both of them; she was so glad he wasn’t going to treat her as if she was breakable. As if she had to be protected from him. “I’d like that, Captain.” She dropped down on the edge of her mattress and braced her arms on the bed, leaned back. “Do it.”
Slowly, he reached for the hem of his sweater and pulled it off along with the T-shirt he wore beneath.
“Hmm. Can I touch?”
He shook his head. The disrobing had mussed his hair, beautifully, and his green eyes deepened to jade. “Not until I’m done.”
“Then by all means, finish.”
The sun came out brighter and shone through the window, bathing him in its healing rays. His hands went to the snap on his jeans. He inched down the zipper. What was beneath bulged impressively. Sliding the denim and underwear off together, the bulge leapt out at her. “I’m not embarrassed by my obvious excitement. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
She smiled. “I’ve been dying to make love with you.”
He took a few steps toward her. “Okay, you can touch as much as you want for as long as I can take it. Stay clothed, though. It’s kinda cool.”
Stacey touched: she ran her palms up the hard flank of his thighs, flirted with his groin, placed her fingers flat on his abs.
His hand went to her head, ruffled her hair. “Um, I think you missed something down there.”
“I know what I’m doing.” And she did. She and Jess, her only lover, had been adventurous in bed.
Her hands went to his chest, she ran her fingers through the whorls of hair there, tweaked his nipples, which were puckered. His erection grew harder. She laughed. “Oh, I see he won’t wait much longer.” She took his penis in her hands and massaged—slowly, then quickly, slowly again…
He let her go on for a while. Then he stilled her. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Then I guess it’s your turn.”
“Finally. Take off your clothes, darlin’.”
Without hesitation, Stacey rose from the bed and he stepped back. It should have been ludicrous, how he looked naked, his erection jutting out with his arms folded over his chest, watching her. But he looked like a Greek God. In turn, Stacey did a sexy strip tease she didn’t know she was capable of. She actually threw her bra at him, dangled her panties in his face.
“Arrgh…” he moved in. “On the bed, woman.”
She stretched out. He sat beside her and began his own exploration. He cupped her breasts, and she closed her eyes at the sensation. “These are so full. Firm. I’m glad you’re not flat chested.”
He said her waist nipped in perfectly. He lowered his head and licked her navel.
Instead of teasing her as she had him, he went right for ground zero. He put his hand over her mound and pressed hard. She bucked off the bed. He slid one finger, then two, inside he
r making her jolt. “You’re wet. For me.”
“You could say that.” It came out on a laugh.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Oh, thank God.”
AFTER NICK RETRIEVED a condom, which he’d purposely brought from home in hopes that she’d forgive him for acting like an ass, he rolled it on and climbed onto the bed, in between her legs and braced himself on his elbows. “Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. I want to feel every inch of you.” To that end, he lifted her arms above her head and aligned their bodies.
“Stop talking Nick,” she said impatiently. “I don’t care how we do it, just do it.”
“How romantic.” He kissed her nose. Poised at her entrance. In the back of his mind, he knew there was no coming back from this; once he was inside her, they were irrevocably connected. So, with frank acceptance, he slid into her. She was tight. Really tight. Despite her slickness. “Oh, honey, no one since Jess?”
“Nope. Now keep going, sailor.”
He got the message. She didn’t want sentimentality, or talk of the past, either. They were forging a new future here and she wanted to go into it boldly, without reflection. He thrust to the hilt of her womb.
“Oh, wow, that feels good. So good…”
“Just wait, baby. Just wait.”
It took only three thrusts to send her spilling over into pleasure. At that point, the world went blank for Nick and he pounded into her. Light, clear and beautiful, burst before his eyes as he willingly gave her everything he had.
He came back to reality and lifted his head, stared down at her. “I don’t know what to say.”
She laughed of all things. “You know, you still haven’t kissed me today.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, let’s correct that right now,” and he lowered his mouth to hers.
STACEY CUDDLED INTO Nick, laying her head on his shoulder as he slowly ran his knuckles up and down her arm. The touch was feather light, making her shiver. He pulled up the sheet. She wasn’t sure what his mood would be. Apparently, she didn’t have to wait long to find out.