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My chest tightens as Rico’s warning echoes my mother’s.
“And he gets paid handsomely for his discretion,” Nicky calmly replies. “He has no hard evidence about the inner workings of the business.”
“He sure as shit knows the money we rake in isn’t the result of investments alone. And, let’s be honest, we aren’t fresh out of high school anymore. Those whispers about us are taken a lot more seriously today than they were seven years ago. You couple that with the components of Mav’s operation he has a hand in and the federal agencies currently breathing down our necks, it wouldn’t take much for him to start problems should he feel inclined to do so. Safe to say, rearranging his son’s face may have him feeling a certain type of way.”
Two words take root in my brain. Federal agencies. Shit, are they being investigated? That’s not possible. Nicky’s supposed to be untouchable. He’s always two steps ahead. Is my mother right? Have I really been so enamored with the image of Nicky I’ve built in my brain that I’ve failed to notice the real-life consequences that accompany a life such as his?
“I don’t understand you, Rico. All my life, you’ve pushed me to behave more human. To let my emotions in. I didn’t see you reeling me in when we tracked down those fuckers who hurt J.”
A chill shudders through me at the memory of Jonsie in the hospital after the rape. I blamed myself for years, some of the guilt still residing somewhere deep inside me. I was supposed to be with her that night, but my mother forced me to attend some dinner party with her and my father at the home of one of his business associates last-minute. It was one of the random times they needed to paint the picture that we were somehow the quintessential American family. I agreed to go because I didn’t have it in me to fight her that night.
I should’ve fought. If I’d threatened to misbehave, they wouldn’t have risked taking me. Dad ignores me like it’s an Olympic sport, so adding one more disappointment to my resume wouldn’t have fazed our relationship. Sure, I would’ve had to swallow my mother’s shit for a few weeks after, but Jonsie wouldn’t have been alone that night. I could’ve kept her safe.
“We did that quietly, Nick. You didn’t string them up in the town square and teach an intro class on torture tactics. Had you tried, I would’ve intervened.”
“Nobody’s saying Devoreaux didn’t deserve what you did to him, bro,” JP hops in, attempting to mediate. “Between you and me? I hope you made it hurt. But you gotta remember what you’ve always told us. Rash decisions will get you killed in this business.”
“I don’t understand how the two of you are able to discuss this so calmly as she’s upstairs with half her face painted purple.”
“Because we’re not in love with her, Nick.” The silence that stretches on following Rico’s statement is deafening beyond compare. The air catches in my lungs, the action threatening to suffocate me as I forget how to physically draw a breath.
Does he mean me? He couldn’t possibly mean me, could he?
“I’m not in love with Daphne.” Nicky’s response is like a kick to the gut, stomping out any seeds of hope Rico’s words had attempted to plant.
“You sure about that?” Rico doubles down, and though every cell in my body screams for me to flee so I’m not subjected to another blow, I find myself rooted in place, my heart heavy with anticipation.
“Listen, it’s no secret I care for her.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach as I wait for him to go on. “She’s J’s best friend. And I guess it just always bothered me how she got dealt such a shitty hand at life. If I can do something to make it a bit easier, then I feel that’s the least I owe her for her years of loyalty and friendship to my sister. But that’s the extent of it. I don’t love Daphne Burke.” Nicky’s words cinch around my heart like a fist. “I pity her.” And those last three just ripped it from my chest.
I’ve heard enough.
I quietly make my way back to his room, where I quickly locate my phone and sneakers. It’s just after one in the morning. Visiting hours won’t even begin at the hospital until at least eight. That gives me more than enough time to get home and get some rest before I need to be presentable. Maybe if I ice my face, I can get the majority of the swelling down. Between that and my full-coverage foundation, it shouldn’t give me too much of a hassle.
“What are you doing?” Nicky’s words draw my attention to where he’s positioned in the doorway.
He eyes me curiously, gaze zeroed in on my shoes I’m finishing tying as he slowly advances into the room. With each approaching step, I’m able to make out the details documenting the night’s events.
The small split at his eyebrow from where he must’ve hit his head.
The splatters of blood that speckle his pinstripe collared button-down.
All evidence that could be used against him.
Lucian’s claiming a mugging now, but that could change on a whim. At least if I go back, I can ensure his story remains the same. I’ll make it a condition of my return. He’d go along with it to save face.
“I’m going home.” I rise to stand, pulling my hair from the confines of my messy bun and letting it fall down my back as I finger comb the tangled strands.
“What do you mean?” He huffs out a weary chortle, the smile he’s bearing more one of confusion than anything else. “Why would you go to your parents’ house?”
“Not my parents’ house, Nick.” I make my way to the side of his bed, quickly straightening the covers before scooping my keys from the nightstand. “Home. To my apartment.”
I spin toward the door, only to collide with the six-foot-four wall of lean, but solid, muscle that is his body. Nicky’s palms grip hold of my shoulders, preventing my retreat.
“Let me go, Nicky.” I stare straight on into the center of his chest, refusing to glance up at him.
“No. You’re talking crazy. Do you hear yourself? You’re not going back there.”
“Ni—”
