The deadliest sin series.., p.103
The Deadliest Sin Series Complete Collection, page 103
She huffs out a sigh and crosses her arms over her ample chest, pressing her already high, perfect breasts even higher in the low V-neck tank top. “I was told I couldn't leave until we were sure you were going to survive. Well, there you go.” She waves a hand toward me. “You're alive, so”—she points to the door—“am I free to go? Or are you going to have your goons physically restrain me…again?”
I scowl at her and turn my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Fuck.” I run my good hand over my face and pinch at the ache forming between my eyes. “Can you give me five fucking seconds to wake up?”
Nicki lets out a huff but doesn't say anything else. Even through the silence, her annoyance rolls off her in waves.
“What time is it?” It feels like I’ve been asleep for days, the heavy fog of painkillers still lingering in my brain.
She gives me another long sigh and huffs again, like she isn't going to respond. I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her. That seems to be a motivation because she glances at her watch.
“Four o'clock in the morning.”
“Shit. I was out a long time, huh?”
“Yeah, a while, but that was probably a good thing.”
The memory of her digging in my shoulder to look for that fucking bullet makes my stomach churn. No amount of narcotics could completely numb that, but it was necessary.
“I don't remember what happened after you finished…”
“You passed the fuck out after I dug the bullet out of your shoulder.”
“What about the shot in my arm?”
“That one went through.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yes. Now, will you answer my question?”
Irritation tightens my chest. I was just fucking shot and don’t need to be dealing with this shit the second I wake up. “No, you can't fucking leave.”
Bits and pieces of a conversation start to tickle at the back of my mind. Words. Phrases. Enough to make unease settle over me.
Rowan…
Felipe…
The church…
Eyeing her, I lick my dry lips and try to get comfortable. “Did I say anything to you while I was out?”
She shifts on her feet and averts her gaze to her feet, clad in pink slippers I hadn’t noticed before. “What do you mean?”
I grit my teeth and push myself up into a sitting position with a little more effort than I care to admit. If I stay lying down, I’m liable to fall asleep again, and I can’t afford to do that right now. “I mean, I need to know what I fucking told you while I was unconscious and drugged up. You already saw too much the other night.”
“Shit.” She mutters it under her breath, but it’s still loud enough that I can hear her. “Look…” She returns her gaze to mine, her blue eyes pleading. “I'm not going to say anything about any of this, okay? I just want to go back to my simple life before I ever set foot in this goddamn place.”
That’s a sentiment I can understand. Things were so simple before the explosion, before that bomb ripped my family apart. Before Nessa was ripped away from me.
“How did you end up here, anyway, Nicki?”
I had asked Connor to find a new bartender, but I didn’t have any say in the hiring. That’s what I pay people for. But if I had seen Nicki, I would have told him no fucking way. The girl just looks like trouble—the kind that comes in a blond-haired, blue-eyed, girl-next-door-looking package. He likely only hired her because he wanted some eye candy behind the bar with him…and look where that fucking got us.
Nicki glares at me, her hands propped on her hips now. “I must have royally pissed off God or karma or something. A friend of mine lives not far from here. She said it was a decent neighborhood bar where I could make some money and that she heard you were looking to hire somebody. I just moved to town, and I needed a job, so…of course, I'd have to pick a fucking bar owned by the mob.”
I snort out a laugh, then wince at the anguish it sends through my body, pressing my good hand over my injured arm that’s strapped to my chest by a make-shift sling made from a belt.
“But I don't want any trouble.” She holds up her hands, palms out, doing her best to look innocent and unthreatening. “Please, just let me go. I won't say a fucking word. You'll never see me or hear from me again.”
Her plea might as well be falling on deaf ears. It isn’t that simple, and she doesn’t strike me as being naïve or dumb, so she has to know that.
“I can't do that.”
“Why the hell not? We made a deal. You said I could go once I helped you.”
“Because I need to know what you know.”
“I don't know anything. Nothing.”
Against my better judgment and my ability to fight it, a smile tugs at my lips. “I get your point, but I know I said something—”
“Really, you didn't say anything—”
Luke steps into the door. “You're awake.”
“Sure fucking looks like it.”
The goon points a finger at me. “And she's full of shit. You were muttering and talking the entire time you were out.”
I turn back to her and glower. “Really? Did you hear what I said, Luke?”
Luke shakes his head. “No, I was mostly keeping a watch out here.”
Perfect. Fucking perfect.
My eyelids get heavy again, and every muscle in my body screams for me to let them close. But I force myself to look at Nicki to try to convey how serious this really is. “You and I are going to have a little chat, and only when I'm comfortable will I even consider letting you go home.”
Her beautiful pale-pink lips part incredulously. “So, I save your life, and now, you're holding me hostage?”
“I didn't say it was forever.”
“Yeah, fucking brilliant.” She flails her arms as she turns away and throws herself back onto the chair in the corner with enough force to send it skidding with a thud against the wall behind her.
I let my eyes drift closed and drop my head against the headboard.
Well, that went well.
“Fuck you, Galen McGinnis!”
Her words linger in the air, heavy with her wrath and tainted with something else I can’t quite place.
Forcing my eyes open again, I meet her heated gaze. “Get out of here. I need to talk with him.”
She scowls. “Where the hell am I supposed to go?”
“The kitchen just down the hall.”
No way I’m letting this woman out of the sight of my men.
She shoves herself off the chair and storms away from it, with fury blazing in the blue eyes she keeps locked on me until she disappears out the door.
Luke steps into the room. “What do you need, boss?”
“I need you to tell me what the fuck happened. Who shot up the church? Is Rowan okay? Who got hit? Who's dead, and who's alive? Where the fuck do we stand?”
What the hell is going on?
That’s the main question, the one I can’t seem to get a handle on because everything happened so fast.
Luke sighs and glances over his shoulder, likely to ensure our female visitor isn’t within earshot. “We've been trying to figure out what we can, boss. Grady never made it back from the church. So, we have to assume he's dead.”
“Shit.” Not that it’s unexpected.
He was waiting at the rear of the church for me, and that’s where the assailants entered from. They likely took out everyone standing there on their way in.
“What about everyone else? The rest of the five families. Injuries? Did anyone die? I need to know about my sister.”
“We're not sure, sir. The shooting made the news, and the cops are swarming that place, but there hasn't been any information yet about casualties that we’ve seen.”
Fuck.
The thought that Rowan might not have made it out of there makes bile climb up my throat. I swallow it back and try to get my head to focus on the numerous threats we need to be watching out for.
“What about the other situation? We stirred up a lot of shit.”
He glances over his shoulder into the hallway again and takes another step in. “That is a little tenuous, as well. Definitely made us targets.”
“Who isn't trying to fucking kill us?”
“They’ve been scrambling ever since we hit them the other night.”
The very reason I was left here basically alone to defend against Felipe when he came for Rowan. Any other night, my best men would have helped me defend this place, defend her, ensure he couldn’t have gotten in here or left with her. But it had to be that night. The night I made my big move, earned another enemy, and left myself exposed.
“Well, keep your eyes and ears open. I don't want to be surprised the way I was tonight.”
“We've got eyes on them, boss. It wasn’t them at the church.”
“Good. Did you ever locate Doc?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Shit.”
“Do you think it's possible someone else got to him?”
I hadn't considered that possibility. He's been working for this family since before I was even part of it. The chances of him going to another group can't be very good…but still, it's a possibility.
“It’s possible. If we figure out who got hit, we may find him. See what you can find out about Rowan, Felipe, Rose, Kat, and Cutter. And bring me my phone. I'm calling Valerian.”
Luke’s brow furrows. “You said Felipe and Rose. I thought Felipe was Rose?"
Shit.
With all that happened and the shape I was in, I haven’t even been able to explain the big reveal that happened last night with the twins.
“That’s complicated. Twins. Rose is with Kat; Felipe is with Rowan.” I hold up my good hand before he can even ask. “Don’t ask more right now. Just find out how everyone came out of that and where they are.”
Considering the carnage at that church, I need to know who got hit and where things stand because this could mean an all-out fucking war on all five fronts.
NICKI
I scan the dingy, old kitchen in the tiny apartment above Bottom O’ the Well for the hundredth time and release a heavy sigh, dropping my head into my hands. My knee bounces violently under the ragged, chipped table no matter how much I try to keep it still.
Being sent away felt like I was a child again being scolded. Not that I wanted to stay in there and potentially hear even more that would give him reason not to let me go, but sitting here, just doing nothing except considering all the horrible things that man could decide to do with me, is making me antsy.
Not to mention the fact that I haven't slept or eaten since those goons dragged me out of my place yesterday. Almost as if in response, my stomach rumbles and acid churns.
What are the chances they actually have any food in here?
I shove to my feet and walk over to the ancient fridge that looks older than me. My hand sticks to something on the handle, and I cringe as I tug it open.
Shit. Empty.
It seems no one actually uses the apartment up here.
Other than when someone gets shot and needs to get patched up…
I roll my eyes and slam the fridge door shut, then lean back against the counter and stare at the door to the hallway.
Come on, Galen. Come tell me I can leave…
It’s a pipe dream. I’m not naïve enough to believe that infuriating man is going to let me walk away now. He may have promised I could leave before I started digging in his damn arm, but if he has any inkling of what he told me while he was delirious, there's no way I'm getting out of here alive.
I've been around the block enough to know that. But he'll also know I'm lying if I try to claim he didn't tell me anything.
I chew on my bottom lip and contemplate the possibilities. None of the options seem even remotely good. I need to find a line to walk—one that lies safely between revealing too much—enough that I'll put another target on my back—or too little that will ensure he knows I know too much.
Good God. How the hell did I get into this?
My exasperated sigh fills the small kitchen, and I return to my seat, drumming my nails on the table.
One of his men walks past, then stops and comes back, eyebrow raised. “What are you doing sitting in here?”
“Galen told me to come in here while he talked to that other guy.”
He glances around. “So, you're just sitting here unsupervised?”
I smirk at him. “Why? You worried I'm gonna bite you again?” I snap my teeth. “Come over and try me.”
He scowls at me and points his finger. “You’re trouble. I'm going to make sure Galen knows that.”
Oh, hell. There goes my big mouth again.
Shaking out his hand as if he can still feel the sting of my bite, he wanders away, mumbling under his breath. Likely some unkind words about me.
I continue to drum my nails on the table for what feels like an hour until my stomach hurts so much and I’m too fidgety to sit any longer. “Fuck this. If Galen is going to kill me, he better do it now instead of keeping me waiting.”
My temper has gotten me into trouble before, but this may take the cake.
I shove away from the table, stomp out into the hallway, and back toward Galen’s room. The man I bit stands in the doorway, his back to the hall, and I shove him to the side so I can enter.
His jaw drops open. “Whoa, where the hell do you think you're going?”
“The shipment—” Galen stops mid-sentence and raises an eyebrow in my direction. “What?”
I wave a hand back. “I can't just sit in there forever. You know, I've been awake for almost twenty hours. I haven't eaten. I'm fucking exhausted, and I just want to go home and go to bed. For the love of God, can I please just leave?”
Galen presses his lips together in a thin line, his annoyance mixing with the pain he’s undoubtedly in to put him in a mood where it likely isn’t wise to cross him. “No, we need to have our talk first.” He looks to his men. “You guys know what to do.”
They both incline their heads toward him and walk past me, casting dirty looks in my direction as they step out into the hall again.
“Shut the door.”
I glance at it, then back at Galen. “Really?”
He wants to be alone with me?
There was a time in my life when being alone in a bedroom with a man as handsome as Galen McGinnis would make my heart race for a whole different reason than it is now.
He nods, and I reach back and close it, then slowly walk over to the bed, twisting my hands in front of me.
Galen watches me with cool green eyes, the one on the left bisected by that nasty scar I’ve tried so hard not to stare at. He motions toward the chair.
“I've been sitting for hours. I'll stand, thank you very much.”
He snorts and shakes his head, his lips twitching with humor. “Christ, you're difficult.”
“Only with people who kidnap me.”
“I didn't kidnap you.”
“Oh, really? Your men broke into my apartment, dragged me from it in the middle of the night in my pajamas, blindfolded me, and basically told me they were going to kill me if I didn’t cooperate. What does that sound like to you other than kidnapping?”
Galen tenses, a flash of something almost resembling sympathy in his gaze. “My apologies. I didn’t think they’d be that rough.”
“Well, they were.”
“They lack some social graces, but they get the job done.”
I wave a hand at his prone form on the bed and his arm in the sling I managed to form using one of his men’s belts after I dug the bullet fragments out of him. “Oh, yeah, it looks like they did a bang-up job protecting you.”
He motions toward his injured arm and shoulder. “This was beyond their control.” He narrows his eyes, making the scar look even more sinister. “Which I think you know. I remember enough to know I told you some things you shouldn't have heard. Like where I was when I got shot and who I was with.”
I press my lips together and attempt to look unaffected by the fact that I'm in a no-win situation.
“You're better off just coming clean with me, Nicki. Once I know what you know, I can decide where we go from here.”
“Yeah, where's that?” I huff. “Me out of here in a body bag?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “What makes you think we use body bags?”
I glare at him, my arms crossed defensively over my chest. “Oh, you think this is funny? The fact that you kill people is funny?”
“No.” He shakes his head, his face sobering. “It isn't funny. It's just…you remind me of someone.”
“Your sister?”
He stills, his hand fisting on his lap. “What do you know about that?”
This is it. This is where I walk that fine line.
Choose your words carefully, Nick.
“I know she was kidnapped as a child and you feel responsible for it, and that when she came here the other day, it was the first time you'd seen each other in twenty years. And you shot her.”
He winces, though it clearly has nothing to do with the pain he’s in physically. “That was an accident. A case of mistaken identity.”
“I would fucking hope so. But really, that's all you said. I was curious because I had met Rowan, or Nessa, whatever you want to call her.” I hold up my hands. “But that's it. I swear.”
The scar over his left eye twitches. “So…I didn't tell you where I was last night?”
Come on, Nicki. Poker face.
“Nope.”
He narrows his gaze on me again, like he’s trying to see through the thin veil of lies I’m hiding behind. “Why are you in Chicago?”
“What? Why?”
“You said you had just moved here and that you needed a job. Where did you move from? And why are you in Chicago?”
“It's a very long, very complicated story I do not want to get into right now.”
“If you want me to make the decision that’s going to let you walk out of here, then I need to know everything. I need to know I can trust you not to reveal anything you saw here or anything I said last night. I need to know who you are and what you’re doing here before you do anything else.”
Shit. Well, that isn’t happening.
