Deep (Pagano Family #4)(62)

He stopped rubbing her tattoo and moved a hand over her hair, brushing it lightly back from her sore face. “I tell you that awful story when you have one so much worse because I trust you with it. That story comes from the deepest part of me. You and my uncle are the only people alive who know that it was me who taught my father that lesson. And I tell you because I am going to teach the men who hurt you, and the man who paid them to do it, their lesson. If I could do what I did to my own father, you know that the men who hurt you will pay dearly. And then the danger will be over. I promise you. No one will hurt you to get to me ever again. You’ll be safe. I’ll make you safe.”

Bev was losing her emotional numbness, and it terrified her. What had happened was too new, not even two days past. And now she had this story about Nick, which was twisted with pain and fear and love. She needed to be numb because she couldn’t contend with emotion while the pain in her body and her mind was so acute.

But Nick wasn’t finished. “I tell you for one other reason. I love you, bella. My life has been dark since I was fifteen. But you’re my light, my sun. I will do everything in my power to help you shine again. Anything you need, anything you want. If it’s in my power to make it so, it will be so. I love you. Ti amo. Sei il mio sole.”

Her emotions were rioting now, overrunning all her barriers, filling her head and heart with shards of broken glass. It was too much. She shook her head, irrationally trying to shake them away. She shook until she was dizzy, but they came on anyway. She was terrified and horrified. She was repulsed. She was sad and broken.

She loved him. She loved him so much. And somewhere in the deep of the morass in her mind, she wanted to comfort him.

“Nick, I can’t—” A shrieking pain was her reminder that she couldn’t speak. But she had to tell him. “I’m not—I don’t—”

He put his fingertips softly over her lips. “Don’t hurt yourself. I won’t push you. I’ll give you what you need. But if you believe me when I tell you how I feel, then don’t push me away. I will make this better. I promise. And you—you’re strong, Beverly. You stand up to me—nobody stands up to me. Even when you’re afraid, you fight for yourself. You’ll remember your feathers. You’ll find your light. I’ll help you. I’m here.”

Bev lost the last layer of numbness, and she dissolved into tears. Not even the pain her wracking sobs caused could stem them. Then Nick eased himself to her side on the bed and carefully pulled her close. She let him, and she cried into his t-shirt, his strong arms shielding her.





15



Sam let Chief Lumley into Ben’s house. Nick stood in the main hallway, waiting. He held out his hand. “Irv.”

The chief shook. “Nick. Sorry about this.”

“Just tell me what’s up.” Nick had neither the time nor the patience for bullshit today.

“I’ve got Chris Mills in my cruiser. He owns the bookshop?”

“I know who he is.” And he knew why he was in the cruiser. Why that cruiser was in his uncle’s driveway was the question.

“Right. And I’m sure you know what went on a while ago.”

Nick did. Mills had been at the condo, looking for Beverly and making a scene. The man Nick had watching the building had roughed him up some, and some old biddy resident had called the cops. Nick’s man had called him after Lumley had taken Mills off.

“I do. Why is he here?”

“He’s screaming that he wants to file a report against you for all manner of crap. Now, I can get in the way of that, but with the light that was on you with the bombing, I figure you don’t want him spouting his bullshit. I don’t want that, either.”

Jesus, the guy was stupid. What did he think he’d accomplish? But the last time Mills had made a scene, it had been clear to Nick that thinking was not his strong suit, at least not where Beverly was concerned. And the chief was right—they’d gotten the Feds off them, and cooled the media, fairly quickly after the bombing at Neon, but if they drew attention again, they’d be putting friends in difficult positions, and friends in difficult positions didn’t stay friendly long. “No, I don’t. But why aren’t you handling that? You know your solution has got to be gentler than mine.”

“He insists that if he doesn’t see Bev, he’s going to put some website reporter on you. I thought maybe you’d want to handle him—but Nick, with respect, this does need a gentle solution.”

He’d be the judge of that. But the guy was a Cove business owner. Disappearing him would leave a ripple. “Bring him in. Is he cuffed?”

“Yeah.”

“Uncuff him.”

The chief nodded and went out. A minute or so later, Chris Mills came through the front door, the chief right behind him.

Mills walked straight up to Nick and crossed his arms over his chest. His face showed no marks from his altercation with Nick’s man, so he assumed the point had wisely been made with body blows. “I should have known you’d have the f*cking police chief in your pocket.”

Nick smiled. “Hey, Irv—my aunt and my mother are out back in the yard. Why don’t you go pay your respects.”

Chief Lumley hesitated, looking back and forth between Nick and Mills, and then he nodded and walked down the hall toward the back of the house.