Mine: Black Sparks MC (9 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Later that night, after Liana retreated safely to bed in a guest room she told him was the size of her entire New York apartment, Nick stood by the picture window at Helena’s, holding an expensive Scotch, feeling like a supervillain, even though the only reason he was there was to protect Liana.

"Can you trust her?" Liana asked. Her voice sounded tired, unsure, almost defeated, the voice of someone who thought she'd won a victory, only to find herself back at the starting line.

It wasn't like she didn't have enough spare rooms. “Trust me, she could lodge an entire circus troupe in this house with room to spare,” he’d told Liana.

She’d stood alone in the center of humongous room, bathed in moonlight, half-undressed, looking lost. He’d wanted to kiss her forehead, to take her hand, to be a gentleman about it. To say “at your service, milady.” But there was too much between them already to be that flippant. In the end he’d shut the door gently, letting out the biggest breath he’d ever held once he was out in the hall. He wondered if there ever again would be that lightness, that honesty between them, without a million pounds of sorrow and recrimination weighing it down.

Helena, behind him, put her hands on her hips. "You need sleep, Nicholas," she scolded, snaking up behind him and linking her arm into his. Nick had told Helena the barest minimum of Liana's backstory. She'd agreed instantly, and Nick didn't have enough time to explain more, or doubt her sincerity. He knew he probably should have, but Liana was safe for tonight, and that was all that mattered.

"I shouldn't," he said with a yawn. "Sleep is when things go wrong. You let your guard down, that’s when they come for you." He was so tired he wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore.

"When who comes for you?" she asked.

He couldn't help but smile at his ridiculousness. "The Decepticons?"

"Too much TV is your problem,” she laughed.

"Maybe," he agreed.He resolved not to sleep; there was too much that could go wrong with Liana if he drifted off. He could get very comfortable here, he thought. And that was exactly why he should never get comfortable for even a second.

"Did you know Liana had a boyfriend in New York?" asked Helena.

"A cop," he said. "How do you know?"

"I told you. I don't let people into my house without knowing who they are. And he was a dirty cop."

“So what? There must be a million dirty cops in New York."

"What do you know about what she's been up to since she left Prudence?"

"I know she was an actress."

"What about boyfriends? Relationships?"

"You're starting to sound like Tryg."

"Nick, I'm looking out for you. You told me yourself she fucked you over once; what makes you think she won't do it again? She hasn't exactly been forthcoming with information, has she?"

"She told me more than you think. It hasn't exactly been easy for her."

"Yeah, going out clubbing every night with gorgeous theater people and being wined and dined by posh directors at Broadway after parties."

Somehow, Nick suspected that wasn't even close to what life had been like for Liana, but he didn't have the facts to allow him to argue.

"It must have been a tough life," Helena said sarcastically. "She doesn't understand that there's a price to pay. She'll sell herself to the highest bidder. She's done it before. Why do you think she threw you over back then? Because she knew if she didn’t, Daddy would cut the purse strings financing her fancy education." She paused, seeming to realize she was tugging on the right memories for Nick. "Am I wrong?"

"No, but--"

"Then what's the problem?"

"Helena, it's not what you think. She's paid the price. A bigger price than we can imagine--than I could imagine. She's apologized for that. She went through hell. She's spent the last six years trying to atone for it."

Helena wasn’t convinced. “She hasn't been where we've been, Nick. She didn't grow up the way we did."

"Her grandpa founded the Black Sparks, and her dad led it for ten years before he was killed. I'd say that gives her as much street cred as anybody."

"But she denied all of that. She grew up with Noel, with piano lessons and ballet."

"Didn't you?"

Helena laughed. "I grew up refereeing street races in a bikini,” she replied. “I know what it’s like to have nothing.”

Nick gestured around him. "Helena, if this is your definition of having nothing, then having everything must involve something
really
spectacular."

"Like what?"

Nick frowned, vaguely remembering a cartoon he'd seen when he was little, that made being rich seem like mythology, like Disneyland, like something that didn't exist in nature. Compared with how he'd grown up, it might as well have been. "Like swimming in a pool full of gold coins," he finished lamely.

Helena tipped back her head and laughed throatily. She touched his arm; the hair underneath the fabric of his shirt seemed to rise up like magnets. He thought of Liana asleep in the other room, and immediately grew disgusted with himself. Given what had happened earlier, she probably thought he had no self-control, and it was his onus to prove she was wrong. Allowing Helena to snake her way around his body wouldn't help much there.

She pursed her full lips. "I told you about this, Nicholas. None of it's mine. Here, I'm a princess. On paper, I'm a peasant…How do you know all of this isn't just an elaborate ruse?”

“What are you talking about?” He felt his fists clench, torn between his desire to defend Liana and his need to ensure she'd be safe here. “She told me everything. This guy is dangerous.”

“So she said. But what if she made up this stalker story to get you to feel sorry for her?” Helena proposed. “While all the while, she's planted herself here like a mole, burrowing deeper and deeper, trying to eat the Black Sparks from the inside? Is that something you want to have to explain to Tryg? How you fell for this girl's bullshit all over again, after you told him you were over her?"

"I am over her,” he insisted, and Helena's expression indicated she didn't believe him. Nick leaned down and grabbed her by the shoulders, his knuckles digging into the expensive fabric of her blouse. He could feel her breathing sharply, but still, she didn't look away. “But that's beside the point. This isn't personal. It's for Tryg, and for my brothers. The Black Sparks take care of our own. And Liana is one of our own. And I don't want to hear another word from you about it.” Nick watched the veins in Helena's almost-transclucent face clench and unclench as he waited for her response. He'd be failing Liana if he just stood here and listened to their hostess insult her—but he'd fail her even more if he lost control and got them kicked out into the street, where he wouldn't be able to protect her.

“I'm sorry, Nicholas,” Helena said, and Nick loosened his grip on her. “I trust you.” She didn't say she trusted
Liana
, but he would have to take what he could get. “But why does it have to be
you?”
Helena asked. “Why is Tryg making you do this when he knows your history with her?”

“It's none of your concern.”

Helena placed her glass down on the table and rose from her chair, beckoning with one finger. Nick stayed in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, trying his best to look skeptical. She had to learn she couldn't lead him around like this. The tight fabric of her skirt seemed to attract his eyes as her smooth, ample butt beckoned. “Nicholas.”

“It is my concern. And yours, too.” He straightened up, like a student when a teacher called his name. Helena could do that to him. “Like I said, prefer to know as much as I can about the people I allow in my home. So when you told me about Liana's situation, I did some digging.”

The room was silent except for the tick of the expensive clock over the mantelpiece.

“And?”

“And I found out the name of the guy in New York who's pulling strings behind the Vipers. He’s an undercover cop. Or he was."

“Who?”

"Jack Camus."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“I hope you don't mind me barging in here like this," said Helena.

At the sound of slight movement in the hallway, Liana sat upright. She must have just woken up. Liana blinked, her eyes blurry from sleep. Was this willowy blonde woman, leaning over her with a cup of coffee in a gaily-painted ceramic mug, some kind of angel? The light from the window filtered in, making the woman's skin seem to glow ethereally.

"We didn't really get a chance to talk last night. I got the feeling you needed your sleep."

"I haven't had a good night sleep in ages,” Liana admitted. “But this bed helped,” she said, stretching out her legs languidly. “By the way, I want to thank you again for letting me stay here," she added, remembering her manners. “I know I kind of just slunk up here the minute I arrived. That was rude of me. I'm sorry."

"Forget about it," said Helena. "You were scared, confused, and in danger. Nobody can be expected to make light conversation under those circumstances."

Liana forced a smile and reached up, rubbing some of the blurriness out of her eyes, though she couldn’t help wondering how much Nick had told her about the situation with Jack, and whether she had revealed too much to begin with.

The peace of the lofty room, with its blond wood and yellow floral country French curtains, was jarring considering the chaos under which she and Nick had left Kirrily’s house last night. For a while, she had dared hope it was all a dream. The whole situation was bizarre, and she did not relish the thought of having to explain herself--not to Helena, not to Kirrily, and especially not to Nick, whose willingness to spirit her away from Jack Camus had her owing him, big time. She may have apologized to him last night, in a move that was far overdue, but it didn't mean they were even.

"I know I owe you an explanation," said Liana hesitantly. "This must be a little strange to you, having the Vice President of the Black Sparks show up here in the middle of the night and dumping a scared girl on you."

"It wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened to me in my life. When I was your age, I'd already been kidnapped twice by rival clubs of my father's. The second time, it was my own boyfriend, who I trusted to protect me and take me away from that life.”

Liana squeezed the hem of the quilt nervously between her hands, dreading what the older woman was about to tell her.

“He stuck a switchblade in my ribs."

"This wasn't supposed to be my life," insisted Liana. "It was my dad's. My stepdad tried to keep me away from it, but he just ended up dictating to me in an entirely different way. I thought when I went to New York I was done with letting men control me. I wonder if there’s something about me that just attracts that. Something written on me. A sign.
This girl can’t think for herself. This girl won’t fight back.”

Liana didn't know why she was telling this strange woman so much. But Helena just nodded, and it felt nice, comforting, not to be judged, to be embraced by someone who knew the feeling. Kirrily tried to be the same way, but she was a Black Sparks lady through and through. By marrying Tryg, she'd chosen that life, and there was only so much she understood about Liana's need to separate herself, and her grief at being pulled back into the vortex.

"Where's Nick?" Liana ventured to ask.

"He rode out to meet Tryg.”

Liana bit her lip. She didn't know why Nick's absence would make her feel vulnerable. It should have been the opposite. Still, the fact remained that he may have been the only thing standing between her and Jack Camus. "I didn't want to put him in the position of having to protect me again," she said. "I didn't want to need protection. And he doesn't need to be responsible for saving my ass at every turn. God knows he has enough to deal with. He got
shot
the other day."

Helena nodded. She knew. "You've known Nick a lot longer than I have. But I've known a lot of Nicks in my time." She spoke with a world-weariness that could have easily sounded condescending, as if she were denouncing Liana's naïveté. But for Liana, it sounded comforting. "If anything's going to get Nick killed someday, it's his sense of loyalty," said Helena, facing her away from her as she opened the closet and started flipping through the hangers. The way she spoke made Liana start to wonder just how well they knew each other. "He got shot because he thought his friend was in danger. He lost the shipment trying to help him."

"That sounds like him," said Liana with rueful smile.

"Anyway, I think it's that same sense of duty that's driving him to offer you protection."

Liana frowned; she didn't like the sound of that. In fact, it sent a bit of a chill through her, the knowledge that, after all this time, she was no more than Nick's duty, his obligation. "So that's it then? He's only protecting me because he thinks he has to? For the club, I mean, not for me?"

"Of course not," she replied, yanking a black silk sleeveless romper off the hanger and holding it in front of her face. "This may fit you." She laid it on the bed. "You're more to him than just another club girl. Why?" Helena turned to her suddenly, and Liana squirmed under her scrutiny, not sure where to look. "Does that bother you? That he might see you that way? Or," she spun around thoughtfully, "that he may not see you as something more?"

"I--" Liana bit her tongue. "I don't know. I don't know how much he told you about what...happened before. About how far back we go." Not much, if Liana knew Nick. That wasn't exactly the kind of story he went around broadcasting to just anybody. But the way Helena talked suggested she may have been intimate with the Black Sparks Vice President in more ways than one. And that was disturbing enough; the fact that Nick might have revealed to them their early history was worse. The idea that Helena might be well aware of the liar, the sellout, monster that Liana had been back then--that she could pull back the curtains and reveal how little respect Liana was worthy of. It would make Liana vulnerable to this woman in a way she wasn’t sure she had the tools to counter.

"Not a lot,” said Helena, and Liana felt her breathing relax. “But I know he lived with you, and it didn’t end well.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“And I
was
a teenage girl once, and I remember what it would have been like to live with a boy like Nick in the room next door," she paused. "Torture.

And obviously I don't know it was like to grow up with Noel Richardson for a stepdad, but I do know what kind of man he was. My husband sat on a few of the same boards as him, and he always talked about what happened when somebody would object to something Noel said. There was a city council member who was once brave enough, or crazy enough, to cast the sole vote opposing Noel's plan to tear down a bunch of buildings in Cincinnati's historic districts and put up a shopping center."

"God help him," said Liana. "What happened?"

"He put a bullet in his mouth last year, so I heard. Noel ruined him. Got his wife fired from her job; she left him. His kids were kicked out the private schools. Nobody would talk to him on the street. He doesn't just disagree with people. He punishes them. Punishes their family, friends, and everyone they care about. I can't imagine what it would be like to live with him. But know this: I don't blame you for making any of the choices you made. My father was a man much the same. And you grow up with that kind of sickness in a household, you do what you have to do to survive. Full stop."

Helena's swirling green eyes looked earnest as she sat on the edge of the bed, and Liana felt her chest loosen a little. The knowledge that Helena wasn't about to jump in and start judging her for the choices she'd made was huge. It meant she could let her guard down--a little.

"And as for Nick--when you grow up with nothing the way we did, you turn to whatever gives you belonging, that makes you believe you matter. Acceptance is a powerful thing. And the Black Sparks give that to Nick. I don't fault him for that. He had nothing before, and he now he has a family – one that will have his back through anything, one that won't toss him out on the street just for speaking his mind or following his heart,” she finished. “And that’s what’s important to him now.”

"So that's what I am to him, you think? Just...an obligation?"

"Look, maybe I've already said more than I should have. If you want answers, you've got to talk to Nick. But we did spend some time talking last night. And he told me Tryg told him to keep an eye on you."

"I gathered that," said Liana. "I'm pretty sure the only reason he came over to dinner last night was because Tryg told him to."

Of course, that didn't account for what he'd done--or tried to do--in the living room, after Kirrily had left. That was not the behavior of a young man who had been ordered to do a tedious chore, who had only been counting the hours until he could leave. It was the behavior of a man who had been waiting a long time, years, even, wondering what this particular woman would feel like under his touch. It was curious, longing, even a little angry—but, above it all, it felt real, and she’d gotten swept up in it. But, perhaps, that was only her mistake, not his. They’d both waited so long; they both had unfinished business. That all made sense. But the idea that he had only done it satisfy his curiosity, and now had no further need of her, made even more sense. After all, he had moved on; picked up the shattered pieces of what she’d left him with. He knew better than to risk it all over again by getting involved with the girl who had wrecked his life the first time around.

She realized she'd been lost in thought, and that Helena was looking at her pointedly. She felt herself flush a little; knowing this wasn't anything she could, or would want to, explain to the other woman, sympathetic as she appeared to be, especially not when Liana wasn't yet sure what kind of stake Helena had in Nick.

"Anyway, he said you could be the key."

"The key to what?"

"He didn't say, and I didn't push him. But from what I gathered, he seemed to think you, or this cop boyfriend--"

“
Ex
-boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend of yours was involved with the Vipers somehow."

"
What?"

"Look, don't fly off the handle. It isn't Nick, I'm sure. Not his idea, I mean. He was just parroting what Tryg told him. Like I said, his loyalty, if anything, will be his downfall."

Liana drew her legs up underneath her, turning to face Helena. "Look, Jack is not a nice guy, and that's putting it lightly. But he's a cop. That's what he does. He's a law-and-order guy. He wouldn't have made sergeant if he were rolling with the biggest biker gang on the Eastern Seaboard. And if Nick has the balls to suggest that Jack planted me here as some kind of mole--" She threw off the covers, unable to continue.

So
that's
what Nick thought: that she was some kind of puppet, to be controlled at the whims of Jack Camus, or any other man who dangled a carrot in front of her, whether it be a scholarship, new clothes, or a steak dinner at the hottest restaurant in town. And it wouldn't have hurt so much if there wasn't that little bit of truth to it, festering somewhere inside of her – the knowledge that she was capable of selling her soul. The worst part was, she'd done it before. Noel had held out the ultimate carrot--her college career, her reputation--and she'd sold out Nick to get it. She didn't blame Nick for thinking she'd do it again--she'd never proven to him otherwise. She’d never tried. Well, that was one thing she could do right now.

"I should find him.”

Helena put her hand on her arm. “Relax, Liana, I'm sure that's not what he was suggesting. It was late, and we were all tired."

"I don't care."

"Anyway, like I said, he's across town somewhere, with Tryg."

"Some protector," Liana scoffed.

"Believe me when I say that the only thing between the inhabitants of this house and the big, bad world outside is definitely
not
a biker kid with a switchblade." Liana cracked a smile. "If that were true, my husband totally wasted his money," Helena said. "Besides the locked gate, we've got CCTV covering every inch, an armed guard on call 24/7. And if worse comes to worse, a panic room upstairs encased in three feet of bulletproof lead."