Waiting for Nick Read online

  In a flash, she was cradled in Alex’s arms. “The hospital,” he said again.

  “No, please. It’s not deep. It stings some, but it’s almost stopped bleeding. It just needs a bandage.”

  At the moment, he would have indulged her in anything. Still holding her, he looked up as two of his men carried out a limp and bleeding Jack.

  He couldn’t take her back upstairs, Alex thought. And he wanted her away from the perp and the crime scene. “Okay, honey. The bar’s close by. I’ll take you there, and we’ll have a look. If I don’t like what I see, your next stop’s the ER.”

  “All right.” She let her head rest on his shoulder, discovering that all she really wanted to do was sleep.

  “This creep needs a doctor,” one of the officers told Alex. “He needs one bad.”

  “Take him in, then, see that he gets fixed up. I want him in shape when I lock him in a cell.”

  All Freddie remembered from the short trip to Lower the Boom was Alex’s soothing voice. It reminded her of being rocked when she was a child and had the chicken pox.

  “I didn’t let him hurt me, Uncle Alex.”

  “No, baby, you took care of yourself. Just let me take over now.”

  Rio let out a shout of alarm when Alex pushed the kitchen door open. “Sit her down, sit her down right here! Who hurt my baby? Who hurt my sweetheart? Nick!” He bellowed it out before either Alex or Freddie could answer. “Get your ass down here, now!” Moving like a bulldozer, he shoved open the door between the kitchen and bar. “Muldoon, I want the good brandy in here, pronto. You just sit easy, honey,” he continued, in a voice that had lowered by several decibels and softened like silk.

  “I’m all right, Rio. Really.” Already soothed, she turned her face into the wide paw he’d laid on her cheek.

  “Looks shallow.” Alex sighed with relief. He’d expected the worst when he tugged Freddie’s blouse out of her waistband to examine the cut. “We’ll patch it up for you.”

  “What the hell’s all the commotion?” Obviously annoyed by the shouted orders, Zack came in, holding a bottle of brandy. One look at Freddie had him darting over and crouching in a position that mirrored Alex’s.

  “Give her room to breathe.” Though shaken, Rio snatched the bottle and poured a hefty two fingers into a tumbler. “Drink it down, Freddie.”

  She would have obeyed, if Nick hadn’t come stalking down the stairs. His injured eye was more open than closed now, but a rainbow of bruises and scrapes had bloomed on his face.

  When he saw her, the blood drained out of it.

  “What happened? Were you in an accident? Fred, are you hurt?”

  He snagged her free hand, nearly crushing the bones.

  “Give her a minute,” Alex ordered. “Drink the brandy, Freddie. Take your time.”

  “I’m okay.” But the jolt of brandy as it hit her system cleared the fog and brought on the trembling.

  “Is that blood?” Nick stared, horrified, at the stain on her blouse. “For God’s sake, she’s bleeding!”

  “We’re taking care of it.” Alex took the antiseptic Rio passed him and dabbed it on gently. “I want you to come home with me, Freddie. When you’re feeling better, I’ll take your statement.”

  “I can do it now. I’d rather do it now.”

  “What do you mean, statement? Were you mugged?” Nick demanded. “Damn it, Fred, how many times have I told you to be careful?”

  “She wasn’t mugged,” Alex snapped out. “Your old pal, Jack, wasn’t interested in her money.”

  As soon as he said it, Alex cursed himself. Pale as death, Nick dropped Freddie’s hand and stepped back.

  “Jack.” As fury filled the hole shock had dug, his eyes turned to hard green slits. “Where is he?”

  “In custody. What’s left of him.” Alex stroked a hand over Freddie’s hair before taking out a pad and switching into cop mode. “Tell me from the beginning, everything you remember.”

  “I was going home,” she began.

  Nick listened, the bitterness burning his throat, the impotence dragging at him.

  Because of him, he thought. All of it. Every instant of terror she’d been through was because of him. His need to settle debts, to handle a problem his own way, could have cost Freddie her life.

  “Then I called you,” Freddie finished. “I could see he was bleeding. His eyes…” She had to swallow.

  “Let me worry about him,” Alex told her. “I want you to put it all out of your mind for now. I’ll go back to your place and get some things for you. You can stay with us as long as you like.”

  “I appreciate that, really I do, but I need to go home.” She took his hand before he could protest. “I can’t be afraid to stay in my own home, Uncle Alex. He’d have gotten to me then, don’t you see? I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “Hardhead.” He kissed her gently. “If you change your mind, it only takes a call.” He rose then, skimmed his gaze over the three men standing by. “You look after her. I’ve got to get to the station and take care of this.” In a mute apology, he laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Make her rest. She’ll listen to you.”

  When he left, Freddie felt three pairs of eyes on her. “I’m not going to fall apart,” she said.

  Nick said nothing, simply stepped to her, scooped her off the chair.

  “I don’t need to be carried.”

  “Shut up. Just shut up. I’m taking her upstairs. She’s going to lie down.”

  “I can lie down at home.”

  Ignoring her, he started up the steps.

  “You don’t want me here.” As if to complete the day, tears began to burn her eyes. “Do you think I can’t tell you don’t want me here?”

  “Here’s where you’re staying.” He carried her inside and straight to the bedroom. “You’re going to rest until you get some color back in your face.”

  “I don’t want to be with you.”

  A quick stab in the heart made him wince. But he couldn’t blame her. “I’m going to leave you alone, don’t worry.” His voice was quiet, distant. “Don’t fight me on this, Fred. Please.”

  He drew the rumpled spread over her, neglecting to take off her shoes. “I’m going downstairs.” He stepped back, dipped his hands into his pockets. “Do you want anything? Want me to call Rachel, or one of the others?”

  “No.” She closed her eyes. Now that she was horizontal, she wasn’t sure she could get up again. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Try to sleep for a while.” He moved over to tug down the shades on the window and plunged the room into soft gloom. “If you need anything, just call down to the bar.”

  She kept her eyes closed, wishing him to leave, willing it. Even when she heard the soft click of the door closing, she didn’t open them again.

  He hadn’t offered the loving compassion Alex had, or the quick, forceful concern of Rio or Zack. Oh, he’d been angry, she thought, furious over what had nearly happened to her. She knew he cared. They’d been part of each other’s lives for too long for him not to.

  But he hadn’t held her. Not the way she so desperately needed him to.

  She wondered if he ever would.

  Chapter Twelve

  She hadn’t thought she would sleep. It was a surprise to wake, groggy, in the half-light. Freddie wasn’t certain if it was a good sign or a bad one that she remembered immediately, and clearly, what had happened and why she was alone in Nick’s bed in the middle of the day.

  Wincing a little as the bandage on her side pulled, she tossed the spread aside. She was unbearably thirsty, and the brandy she was only vaguely aware of having drunk had left her a head full of cotton.

  At the kitchen sink, she filled a glass of water to the rim and drank it down. It was odd, and annoying, she thought, that she still felt so shaky. Then it occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that hadn’t been much of a meal.

  Without much hope, she opened Nick’s refrigerator. She had her choic
e of a chocolate bar and an apple. Feeling greedy, she took them both. She was just pouring another glass of water when Nick walked in, carrying a tray.

  His heart lurched when he saw her standing there, so small, so delicate. And when he thought of what might have happened to her. In defense, he kept his voice neutral. “So, you’re up.”

  “It appears so,” she said in the same distant tone.

  “Rio thought you might want to eat something.” He set the tray on the table. “Your color’s back.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Like hell.”

  “I said I’m fine. You’re the one who looks like he’s been run over by a truck.”

  “I went looking for my fight,” he said evenly. “You didn’t. And we both know where the blame lands in this one.”

  “With Reece.”

  In an attempt to keep himself calm, he took out a cigarette. “Reece wouldn’t have given two damns about you if it hadn’t been for me. And if you hadn’t been with me in the first place, Jack wouldn’t have known where to find you.”

  She took a moment to steady herself. “So, I see, this is all about you. In your twisted logic, I was threatened with a knife and rape because I happened to have walked down the street with you one night.”

  The knife. Rape. It froze his blood. “There’s nothing twisted about the logic. Reece wanted to pay me back, and he found a way. I can’t do much about it, since Alex—”

  “Do?” she repeated, interrupting him. “What would you do, Nick? Go beat Reece up again, pound on Jack? Is that supposed to make it come out right?”

  “No. I can’t make it come out right.” And that was the worst of it. There was nothing he could do to change what had happened. Only what might happen next. He crushed out the cigarette he found he didn’t want. “You and I have to settle things, though. I think you should work at home, when you feel up to it again. I can send the music over to you.”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “Just what I said. I figure we’ve reached a point in the score where it’s just as constructive, maybe more so, to work separately.” His eyes shot to hers, hardened. “And I don’t want you around here.”

  “I see.” She needed her pride now, every ounce of it. “I take that to mean on both professional and personal levels.”

  “That’s the idea. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you? Isn’t that nice. ‘Sorry, Fred, time’s up.’” She whirled on him. “I’ve loved you all my life.”

  “I love you, too, and this is the best for both of us.”

  “I love you, too,” she repeated, snagging him by the shirtfront. “How dare you come back with some watered-down pat-on-the-head response when I tell you that!”

  Very slowly, very firmly, he pried her fingers from his shirt. “I made a mistake.” He’d convinced himself of it. “And now I’m trying to fix it. I understand that you might get emotions confused with sex.”

  She shocked them both by slapping him, and putting her weight behind it. For a motionless moment, there was only the sound of her unsteady breathing. Then she exploded. “Do you think it was just sex? That what happened between us was just heat and flash? Damn you, it wasn’t. You know it wasn’t. Maybe it was the only way I could get to you, the only way I could think of. But it mattered, it all mattered. I worked every step of the way to make you see it, see me. I planned it out, step by step, until—”

  “Planned?” He cut her off with one searing look. “You planned it? You came to New York, convinced me to work with you, had me take you to bed? And it was all part of some grand scheme?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it again. It sounded so cold, so calculated, that way. It hadn’t been, hadn’t been meant to be. Not when you added love.

  “I thought it through,” she began.

  “Oh, I bet you did.” The slip had given him the outlet he needed for his rage and distance. “I bet you figured it all out in that sharp little head of yours. You wanted something, and did whatever it took to get it.”

  “Yes.” She sat down now, weakened by shame. “I wanted you to love me.”

  “And what’s the rest of the plan, Fred? Tricking me into marriage, family, white picket fences?”

  “No. I wouldn’t trick you.”

  “You wouldn’t think of it that way, but that was the goal, wasn’t it?”

  “Close enough,” she murmured.

  “I can see it,” he snarled out as he stormed around the kitchen. “Freddie’s list of goals. Move to New York. Work with Nick. Sleep with Nick. Marry Nick. Raise a family. The perfect family,” he added, in a tone that made her wince. “It would have to be perfect, right? You always want everything neat and tidy. Sorry to disappoint you. Not interested.”

  “That’s clear enough.” She started to rise, but he pressed a hand to her shoulder and held her down.

  “You think it’s that easy? I want you to take a look, a good long one, at what you were fishing for. I’m two steps away from the guy who held a knife on you. I know it. The family knows it—the family you’re basing all these half-baked fantasies on. Isn’t that the way you saw it, Fred? Like the Stanislaskis?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she tossed back, humiliated that she was close to tears. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Because I’ve been around, and you haven’t. How many people do you think there are out there like them? You’re using top-grade for your yardstick.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. It works. It can work.”

  “For them. A few others. Is that what started cooking in your head when we were with the O’Hurleys? Another big, happy family?”

  She lifted her chin. “It should prove my point. It can work.”

  “For them.” He slapped his palms on the table, forcing her to stare into his face. “Take another look here. What’s happened in the last few days is my world, Fred. Battered women, frightened kids, drunks who brawl in bars. Men who think rape is an entertaining pastime. And you want to start a family on that? You need to be committed.”

  “You’re not responsible for what happened to Marla. Or to me.”

  “No?” His lip curled. “Look at the thread. I’m the thread. Maybe I’ve been pulled out of that whole world,” he said. “But it only happened because of the family. What do you think they’d say if they knew I’ve been sleeping with you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. They love you.”

  “Yeah, they do. And I owe them, plenty. Do you think I’m going to pay them back by shacking up with you over a bar? Do you think I’m crazy enough to think about marriage and kids. Kids, for God’s sake, where I come from? I don’t even know who my father was. But I know who I am, and I’m not passing it on. I care about you, sure I do—enough to get you the hell out.”

  “You care,” she said slowly, “so you’re breaking it off.”

  “That’s exactly right. I was out of my mind to let it get this far, and I nearly—” Now he broke off, remembering how close he’d come, only a few days before, to declaring himself. “What matters is, you worked on me, and I let things get temporarily out of hand. It ends here. For the sake of the family, we’ll try to forget any of it happened.”

  “Forget?”

  “All of it. I’m not going to risk hurting you any more, and I sure as hell don’t want to hurt the rest of the family. They’re all I’ve got—the only people who ever wanted me or cared about me.”

  “Poor, poor Nick,” she said, with ice. “Poor lost, unwanted Nick. You really think you’re the only one who’s faced that kind of rejection, or wondered just what lack might have been passed onto him. Well, it’s time you learned to live with it. I have.”

  “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “My mother never wanted me.”

  “That’s bull. Natasha’s—”

  “Not Mama,” she said coldly. “My biological mother.”

  That stopped him. It was so easy to forget Spence had been married before. “She died when you were a
kid, a baby. You don’t know how she felt.”

  “I know exactly.” There was no bitterness in her voice. That was what tugged at him. There was no emotion at all. “Dad would have kept it from me. I doubt he has a clue I ever overheard him talking to his sister. Or with Mama. I was nothing more than a mistake she’d made, then decided to forget. She left me when I was an infant, without a second thought. And her blood’s in me. That coldness, that callousness. But I’ve learned to live with it, and to overcome it.”

  He couldn’t imagine her harboring that kind of pain, that kind of doubt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. No one’s ever talked about her.” He wished he could have held her then, offered comfort, until her body lost that uncharacteristic rigidness. He didn’t dare offer her anything. “But that doesn’t change what’s here.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You won’t let anything change.” Freddie was crying now, but the tears were hot, more of anger than of grief. “You knew I was in love with you. And you knew, in the end, I would have made any compromise, any adjustment, to make you happy. But you don’t make compromises, Nick LeBeck.”

  “You’re too upset to handle this now. I’m going to get you a cab.”

  “You’re not going to get me a cab.” She shoved at him. “You’re not going to send me anywhere. I’ll go when I’m ready to go, and I can take care of myself. I proved that today, didn’t I? I don’t need you.”

  She let the words hang, closed her eyes on them a moment. When she opened them again, they were fierce. “I don’t need you. What a concept in my life. I can live without you, Nicholas, so you needn’t worry that I’ll come around mooning over you. I thought you could love me.”

  Her breath came out steady, strengthening her. “My mistake. You aren’t capable of loving that way. I wanted so pitifully little from you. So pitifully little, I’m ashamed.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out. “Fred.”

  “No, damn you, I’ll finish this. Not once did you ever tell me you loved me. Not the way a man tells a woman. And not once did you try to show me, except in bed. And that’s not enough. Not one soft word. Not one. You couldn’t even drum up the effort to pretend and tell me, even once, that you thought I was beautiful. No flowers, no music unless we made it for someone else. No candlelight dinners, except when I arranged them myself. I did all the courting, and that makes me pathetic. I was willing to settle for crumbs from you, and that’s exactly what I got.”