Waiting For Nick
Page 43
He felt Reece's hands around his neck, choking off air. Ears buzzing, he pried at them, sucking in air and gathering strength to drive a short-armed punch. Reece's teeth tore his knuckles, but he continued to hammer, almost blindly now, until the stranglehold loosened.
There was an animal in him. It eyed Reece ferally, wrestled the bigger man over the floor. There was the sound of smashed glass, the sting of it pricking and biting at skin. Hate made him strong and wild and merciless.
He could smell the blood, and taste it. Even as Reece's eyes rolled back and his body sagged, Nick continued to pound.
"Enough." It took the bartenders and two others to drag Nick up. "I don't want nobody beat to death in my place. You done what you come to do, now get out."
Nick staggered once, wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. "You tell him when he comes to, if he raises his hand to a woman again, I'll finish the job."
Chapter Eleven
Freddie considered going home after delivering Maria and her family to the abuse shelter. God knew she was drained, as emotionally and physically exhausted as she'd ever been in her life. She'd gone no farther than the entryway of the shelter herself, but she'd been relieved that it didn't seem like an institution.
Nick had done his research well.
There'd been children's drawings tacked up on the wall, and a small sitting room off to the side, where the furnishings were spare, but comforting.
The woman who greeted them had seemed weary, yet her voice had been soothing. Freddie's last glimpse of Maria had been watching her being led up the stairs, with the woman murmuring to her.
So she didn't go home, despite Nick's insistence, but went back to wait for him.
"Figured you'd be back," Rio said when she stepped into the kitchen. "You got Maria and the kids away okay?"
"Yes." She sat, let her shoulders sag against the chair. "It seemed like a good place. A safe one. I don't think she even realized where she was. She just followed along, like the children."
"You've done all you can do." Rio set a plate in front of her. "You eat something now. No arguments."
"I won't give you any." Freddie picked up her fork and dipped into the chicken and rice. "Who is she, Rio?"
"A girl Nick used to know. He didn't see much of her for a while, after he got settled down here with Zack and Rachel. When she got pregnant with the boy, Carlo, her family booted her out."
"Heartless," Freddie murmured. "How can people be so heartless? What about the father?"
"Wasn't interested, I guess." Rio shrugged, caught himself and turned to her. "The boy isn't Nick's."
"You don't have to tell me that, Rio. He'd never have left them to fend for themselves." Setting her fork aside, she rubbed her hands over her face. "This man, the one who did this to her. He isn't Carlo's father?"
"Nope. She didn't get tangled up with him until about four years ago. He was doing time when the boy was born."
"A real prince."
"Oh, Reece is a royal bastard, all right." Rather than the coffee she'd expected, Rio set a cup of herbal tea in front of her. "I guess the name isn't ringing any bells with you."
"No." She frowned, sniffed the tea. Chamomile. It almost made her smile. "Should it?"
"He nearly killed Nick." Rio's dark eyes went grim. "A little over ten years ago, he broke in here with a couple of his Cobra slime buddies, juiced up and armed to the teeth. Figured on robbing the place. He was going to shoot Zack."
The blood drained out of her face. "I remember. Oh, God, I remember. Nick pushed Zack away."
"And took the bullet," Rio finished. "I thought we were going to lose him. But he's tough. Nick's always been tough."
Very slowly, as if her bones might shatter from the movement, she rose. "Where is he, Rio? Where's Nick?"
He could have lied to her. But he chose to tell her straight. "I gotta figure he went looking for Reece. And I gotta figure he found him."
She had to fight to get the air out of her lungs, to pull it back again. "We have to tell Zack. We have to—"
"Zack's out looking right now. So's Alex." He set a huge and gentle hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing to do but wait, honey."
So she waited, eventually going upstairs to pace Nick's apartment. Every sound on the street, from the bar below, had her holding her breath. Every wail of a siren had her trembling.
He's tough. Nick's always been tough.
She didn't give a damn how tough he was. She wanted him home, whole and safe.
Tormented by the images rolling through her brain, she kept her hands busy. She began to tidy the room, then to dust, then to scrub.
When she heard footsteps on the stairs, she was down on her knees washing the kitchen floor. She scrambled up, raced toward the door.
"Nick. Oh, God, Nick." All but shattered with relief, she threw her arms around him.
He let her cling for a moment, though the pressure had the aches in his body singing. When he found the energy, he peeled her away.
"I told you to go home, Fred."
"I don't care what you told me, I was—Oh, you're hurt."
Her eyes went huge as relief jerked into shock. His face was bloody, one eye nearly swollen shut. His clothes were torn and stained with more blood.
"You need to go to the hospital."
"I don't need a damn hospital." He lurched away from her, gave in to his weakened legs and sank into a chair. And prayed to any god that might be listening that he wouldn't be sick. "Don't start on me. I've already been through this with Zack. Go away, Fred."
Instead, she said nothing, walked into the bathroom and gathered up every first aid supply she could find. Armed with antiseptic, bandages and dampened cloths, she came back to find him sitting as she'd left him.
He took one look, would have scowled if his face hadn't felt as though it would crack open at the movement. "I don't want you nursing me."
"Just be quiet." Her hands were a great deal steadier than her voice when she dabbed at the blood. "I imagine I'm supposed to ask how the other guy looks. You had no business going after him."
"It is my business. She meant something to me once." He hissed, then settled, when she pressed the cool cloth to his swollen eye. "And even if I'd never seen her before, any man who knocks a woman around, tosses kids around, deserves a beating."
There was an animal in him. It eyed Reece ferally, wrestled the bigger man over the floor. There was the sound of smashed glass, the sting of it pricking and biting at skin. Hate made him strong and wild and merciless.
He could smell the blood, and taste it. Even as Reece's eyes rolled back and his body sagged, Nick continued to pound.
"Enough." It took the bartenders and two others to drag Nick up. "I don't want nobody beat to death in my place. You done what you come to do, now get out."
Nick staggered once, wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. "You tell him when he comes to, if he raises his hand to a woman again, I'll finish the job."
Chapter Eleven
Freddie considered going home after delivering Maria and her family to the abuse shelter. God knew she was drained, as emotionally and physically exhausted as she'd ever been in her life. She'd gone no farther than the entryway of the shelter herself, but she'd been relieved that it didn't seem like an institution.
Nick had done his research well.
There'd been children's drawings tacked up on the wall, and a small sitting room off to the side, where the furnishings were spare, but comforting.
The woman who greeted them had seemed weary, yet her voice had been soothing. Freddie's last glimpse of Maria had been watching her being led up the stairs, with the woman murmuring to her.
So she didn't go home, despite Nick's insistence, but went back to wait for him.
"Figured you'd be back," Rio said when she stepped into the kitchen. "You got Maria and the kids away okay?"
"Yes." She sat, let her shoulders sag against the chair. "It seemed like a good place. A safe one. I don't think she even realized where she was. She just followed along, like the children."
"You've done all you can do." Rio set a plate in front of her. "You eat something now. No arguments."
"I won't give you any." Freddie picked up her fork and dipped into the chicken and rice. "Who is she, Rio?"
"A girl Nick used to know. He didn't see much of her for a while, after he got settled down here with Zack and Rachel. When she got pregnant with the boy, Carlo, her family booted her out."
"Heartless," Freddie murmured. "How can people be so heartless? What about the father?"
"Wasn't interested, I guess." Rio shrugged, caught himself and turned to her. "The boy isn't Nick's."
"You don't have to tell me that, Rio. He'd never have left them to fend for themselves." Setting her fork aside, she rubbed her hands over her face. "This man, the one who did this to her. He isn't Carlo's father?"
"Nope. She didn't get tangled up with him until about four years ago. He was doing time when the boy was born."
"A real prince."
"Oh, Reece is a royal bastard, all right." Rather than the coffee she'd expected, Rio set a cup of herbal tea in front of her. "I guess the name isn't ringing any bells with you."
"No." She frowned, sniffed the tea. Chamomile. It almost made her smile. "Should it?"
"He nearly killed Nick." Rio's dark eyes went grim. "A little over ten years ago, he broke in here with a couple of his Cobra slime buddies, juiced up and armed to the teeth. Figured on robbing the place. He was going to shoot Zack."
The blood drained out of her face. "I remember. Oh, God, I remember. Nick pushed Zack away."
"And took the bullet," Rio finished. "I thought we were going to lose him. But he's tough. Nick's always been tough."
Very slowly, as if her bones might shatter from the movement, she rose. "Where is he, Rio? Where's Nick?"
He could have lied to her. But he chose to tell her straight. "I gotta figure he went looking for Reece. And I gotta figure he found him."
She had to fight to get the air out of her lungs, to pull it back again. "We have to tell Zack. We have to—"
"Zack's out looking right now. So's Alex." He set a huge and gentle hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing to do but wait, honey."
So she waited, eventually going upstairs to pace Nick's apartment. Every sound on the street, from the bar below, had her holding her breath. Every wail of a siren had her trembling.
He's tough. Nick's always been tough.
She didn't give a damn how tough he was. She wanted him home, whole and safe.
Tormented by the images rolling through her brain, she kept her hands busy. She began to tidy the room, then to dust, then to scrub.
When she heard footsteps on the stairs, she was down on her knees washing the kitchen floor. She scrambled up, raced toward the door.
"Nick. Oh, God, Nick." All but shattered with relief, she threw her arms around him.
He let her cling for a moment, though the pressure had the aches in his body singing. When he found the energy, he peeled her away.
"I told you to go home, Fred."
"I don't care what you told me, I was—Oh, you're hurt."
Her eyes went huge as relief jerked into shock. His face was bloody, one eye nearly swollen shut. His clothes were torn and stained with more blood.
"You need to go to the hospital."
"I don't need a damn hospital." He lurched away from her, gave in to his weakened legs and sank into a chair. And prayed to any god that might be listening that he wouldn't be sick. "Don't start on me. I've already been through this with Zack. Go away, Fred."
Instead, she said nothing, walked into the bathroom and gathered up every first aid supply she could find. Armed with antiseptic, bandages and dampened cloths, she came back to find him sitting as she'd left him.
He took one look, would have scowled if his face hadn't felt as though it would crack open at the movement. "I don't want you nursing me."
"Just be quiet." Her hands were a great deal steadier than her voice when she dabbed at the blood. "I imagine I'm supposed to ask how the other guy looks. You had no business going after him."
"It is my business. She meant something to me once." He hissed, then settled, when she pressed the cool cloth to his swollen eye. "And even if I'd never seen her before, any man who knocks a woman around, tosses kids around, deserves a beating."
