“Hi, Bright Eyes,” he whispered in a low, deep voice before pressing his lips to hers. It was a tender, chaste kiss, but as soon as she slid herself closer, he was in trouble. He couldn’t resist her, but considering their surroundings and circumstances, he had to. He pulled back, knowing her disapproving brother was only steps away.
“Kiss me,” she mumbled between kisses. “Kiss me, Nick.”
“Oh, baby,” he moaned, deepening the kiss.
“Oh, come on, man! I step away for a minute and you can’t help but attack her?” Bart said as he returned to the table.
Nick pulled away, trying to suppress the laugh he felt lodged in his throat. He would have said something, but he could see Kelsey was getting ready to eat her brother alive.
“I think you’ve got that backward, big brother,” Kelsey said, resting her hand firmly on the inside of Nick’s thigh, “and I haven’t even begun to attack him. I’ll wait to get him alone to do that.”
“Come on, Kels.” Bart squirmed.
Nick had to turn his head to avoid cracking up. The way she handled Bart was perfect—she knew just what to say to shut him up. When he looked towards the bar, he spotted the familiar man staring intently at the three of them. Anthony nodded to the bartender as he accepted the paper cup, and with his newspaper tucked under his arm, he glanced at Nick as he walked out of the side door. To any casual observer, it was simply a customer buying a cup of coffee. But to Nick, he was so much more.
“Uh, look, Kelsey, I gotta run. I only stopped in here for a minute. I have somewhere I need to be,” Nick said after forcing his eyes from the door Anthony had just exited.
“Oh, okay. Call me later?”
“I’m not sure how late I’ll be. If I don’t get a chance tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.” She smiled.
He gave her a quick kiss and nodded to Bart. “I’ll talk to you later, too, Bartholomew.”
Kelsey watched until the door had shut behind him and turned her attention to her disapproving brother.
“So?” he asked.
“So what?”
“You’ve got a date with him tomorrow?”
“Yes. He’s picking me up at seven.”
“I don’t like you with him.”
“And you expect me to stop seeing him because of that? Sorry, Bart. That’s not happening.”
“Kels…”
“Don’t,” she said shaking her head. “Okay, so he’s not the kind of guy I would normally date, but that’s what appeals to me the most. The guys I’ve dated before… They just didn’t do it for me.”
“Come on, sis, I don’t want to hear about that,” he said, turning his face away.
“I’m not talking about sex, Bart! Well, I’m not talking only about sex.” She giggled, expecting the squeamish look she got from him. “Seriously, Nick is different. He listens to me. He seems to know things about me that I didn’t know about myself. He brings those parts out of me. I like that. I like being with him. He makes me feel…like I’ve never felt before.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but I can see myself falling in love with him.”
“Yo! What’s up, man?” Nick called out as he hopped down the stairs, trying to catch up with the man who’d bought the coffee. It was the same slick henchman whom he’d seen at the gun range on Sunday.
Anthony Portella was as bad-ass as they came. As intimidating in stature as he was in appearance, he’d been a thorn in Nick’s side since they’d met. He stood a few inches taller than Nick, and outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. His dark black hair, slicked back with too much gel, only seemed to highlight the deep lines that had formed on his scowling face, aged prematurely beyond his forty years. His most distinct feature, however, were his eyes—one brown and the other blue.
Anthony turned on his heel, looking at him intensely when two large men jumped Nick, each holding one of his arms, rendering him defenceless.
“Vincent isn’t very happy with you, Jensen,” the man sneered as he tossed his coffee and paper aside.
“What else is new?” Nick grunted as he unsuccessfully tried to break loose.
“I’m afraid your focus isn’t exactly on your job. I don’t blame you, though. Is she as good as she looks?”
It took every ounce of his strength not to lash out at the man, but he didn’t want Anthony to know his true feelings for Kelsey. Instead, he smiled and stopped his struggles against the men holding him. “In my experience, there’s no such thing as bad.”
“Yeah, but this one,” Anthony said with a lick of his lips, “she looks pretty tasty.”
Nick’s breath quickened as he watched the man lust after Kelsey. “Leave her out of this, you son of a bitch,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Ah. Struck a nerve, have we?” He laughed before winding up and slamming his fist into Nick’s stomach, causing him to double over. “Vincent doesn’t like waiting, Nicky. It’s best you remember that.”
“Like I told him. I know what I’m doing,” Nick managed to huff as he tried to catch his breath.
“I couldn’t help but overhear something about her being Kapman’s sister?”
“Saturday.” Nick cleared his throat and stood back up, his arms still braced by the goons. “I’ll work on Kapman on Saturday. I’ll get him.”
“You'd better deliver. You have forty-eight hours. Vincent won’t wait any longer.”
Anthony threw another blow into Nick’s midsection before motioning to the two goons to release him. Dropping to the ground, Nick looked up in time to watch the three climb into a nearby car.
Gasping for breath and holding tightly to his stomach, he slowly ascended the outdoor steps to his apartment. “Damn it,” he grunted to himself. Not only had she turned out to be Bart’s sister, but now they knew about her. He’d inadvertently involved a woman he cared about very much in something incredibly dangerous. What should he do now?
He stumbled into his room and collapsed on the bed. He struggled to lie flat as he recovered from the blows, but his mind was squarely on the woman he’d left in the restaurant. As he stared at the barren ceiling, he couldn’t get their upcoming date out of his mind. Was she safer if he stayed away? Or was it better to keep her close by to protect her?
The answer could mean the difference between life and death.
Chapter Seventeen
After Nick exited his shower, he gave himself a thorough once-over in the mirror, twisting left and right to make sure there were no marks left on his body from the back-alley meeting with Anthony the night before. He had no idea how he was going to explain any bruises to Kelsey if the night ended up the way he expected it to, but other than just a hint of stiffness near his ribs, there was no evidence of a fight. “Guy hits like a girl,” he mumbled to himself as he prepared to shave.
He’d spent much of the night and the majority of the day debating what to do about Kelsey. Did he stay with her, and possibly put her at greater risk, or did he break it off and leave her to potentially defend herself against a threat she had little chance of defeating?
Telling Bart wasn’t an option. If Nick told him the truth it would fuck up everything, and he was far too invested to give up now. He could finally see light at the end of the tunnel, and if it fell apart, he’d just wasted the last twelve months of his life for nothing, not to mention the danger to everyone else involved.
In the end, he decided to stay close to her tonight and to try to make sure she stayed home from the barbecue on Saturday. In the event that something went wrong, he didn’t want her anywhere near Bart’s house. The ramifications could be deadly.
Nick dressed quickly and headed out of the door. Just to be safe, he wanted to keep her in tonight, although he did have an added incentive not to share her with the outside world. She’d pepper him with questions about his past at the police academy and his friendship with Bart, no doubt, but he was prepared for that. The line between what he would tell her and what he’d keep to himself was clear. He may approach it, but he’d never cross it.
He checked the time on his phone—three p.m.. Plenty of time to stop by the grocery store and get to her apartment to fix dinner before she arrived home from work. Leaning against his bike, he dialled her number to make sure they were set.
“Well, hello, stranger.”
“Hey, Bright Eyes. How’s my beautiful girlfriend?”
“Better now that my boyfriend called. I was hoping to hear from you last night. You’re not calling to cancel, are you?”
“Not a chance. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call last night. I got tied up. I’m sure I would have slept better after hearing your sexy voice.”
“My voice is sexy?”
“Gets my blood pumping. Listen, I just wanted to make sure you’re still on schedule. You get off at five, right?”
She was silent momentarily, but then he heard her soft giggle. “I was assuming I would be
getting off
a bit later.”
He laughed so hard it was difficult to keep the phone to his ear. “I think I’m corrupting you, Kelsey.”
“Well, if that’s what you want to call it,” she whispered softly. “I have a different description.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, how about I meet you at your place later and you can tell me about it,” he whispered, getting more and more turned on.
“I can’t wait. See you at seven?”
“See you at seven, baby.” He hung up the phone. “If not before.” He smiled at the thought of surprising her when she got home. More anxious than ever, he climbed on his bike and drove to the store.
Because of an unplanned trip to the florist, he arrived at her place later than he’d expected. Wanting fresh flowers to replace those dying on her kitchen counter, he’d had to stop at two different stores to find pink roses. It was just past four p.m. when he stepped off the elevator.
He set down the groceries, being careful to balance the bouquet on top, and knelt in front of her door. With a few small tools, he managed to pick her lock in less than a minute, making a mental note to upgrade her with a proper deadbolt as soon as he was able. He entered the loft and went straight to work. A short while later, he had the water boiling, the spaghetti sauce simmering and the wine breathing.
Once the food was cooking properly, his next task was setting a romantic table and creating the perfect atmosphere for a nice, quiet evening at home. He picked up his pace, noting it was already five p.m. She would be home soon. The last thing he wanted was for her to catch him before everything was perfect.
After the table was set and the fire was glowing in the fireplace, he returned to his duties in the kitchen. He began slicing bread while debating if he should add garlic.
Why not? We both eat it, and we’ll cancel each other out.
It’d been such a long time since he’d been able to cook in a proper kitchen that he lost track of time.
A knock on the door broke him from his reverie.
Why would Kelsey knock?
He stole a glance at the microwave clock before answering it. It was five forty-five p.m. She must be running late.
He slid the large metal door back to find a stern-looking Bart on the other side. “Well, Bartholomew. What a pleasant surprise,” Nick said sarcastically.
“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until seven,” Bart snapped as he slipped past Nick into the apartment. “Where’s Kels?”
“Nice to see you, too, dude. Kelsey’s not here. She hasn’t gotten home from work yet.”
Nick watched as Bart surveyed the romantic scene. “Then what the hell are you doing here? Do you have a key?”
“Not that I have to justify myself to you, but I thought I’d surprise your sister with a nice dinner. She works hard, you know? I thought she would like something special tonight.”
A hint of remorse flickered across Bart’s face before the stern expression returned. “When is she supposed to be home?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I expected her a while ago.” Nick pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialled and waited for her to pick up.
After four rings, he groaned when the voicemail kicked in. “Hey, baby, give me a call when you can. I just want to make sure you get home okay.” In case she was just running behind, he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.
“What time was she supposed to be home?”
“She was supposed to leave work at five,” Nick said, suddenly uneasy with her absence.
“Maybe she stopped somewhere?”
Nick shook his head. “Then why wouldn’t she have answered her phone?”
He looked at Bart, whose face revealed the same worry he felt. As if their thoughts were the same, both suddenly headed for the door. Nick returned to shut off the stove and hurried to catch up to Bart, who was already in the elevator.
“Man, I knew she shouldn’t have taken that job at the emergency clinic,” Bart growled and he slammed the elevator door shut behind Nick. “That area is nothing but trouble.”
Nick remained silent, leaning against the back wall while nervously bouncing his foot.
I don’t remember this elevator being so fucking slow.
Finally, the car stopped with a thud and they rushed out, heading for the parking area.
“We’ll take my car,” Bart said as they ran past Nick’s bike.
As soon as Bart squealed the tyres out of the lot, Nick pulled out his phone and tried calling her again. This time, the voicemail kicked in after the first ring. “Fuck! Step on it, man. Her phone is off.”
“Off?”
“The voicemail kicked in right away. Something’s wrong!”
The short drive took only minutes as Bart fishtailed around the corner of the parking lot, his police siren blaring. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Nick jumped from the passenger side and sprinted towards her parked car.
Seeing no sign of damage to the empty car, he turned and ran towards the door of the clinic, followed immediately by a frantic Bart. “Kelsey!” Nick screamed as he ran through the door, which sat propped open with a rock.
As soon as he’d entered, he stopped dead in his tracks, causing Bart to slam into him from behind.
“What the hell?” Bart grunted before stepping aside and looking around. “This place is trashed. I thought she was just about ready to open.”
“This isn’t how it was,” Nick said softly, now certain of foul play. “This place was spotless.” He looked to the waiting area, seeing the plastic-covered chairs tipped over and the various magazines scattered across the floor. The storage closet was open and items strewn about the room. His heart began pounding harder, terrified of what he may find as he carefully began to round the front desk and head to her office.