Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(27)
I’m worried about Sam. Has she cried yet?
Not that I’ve seen, Nick replied. I think she was holding it together in public.
She says she’s going back to work tomorrow. Is she ready for that?
I suppose we need to let her decide that.
Yeah, I guess. I’ll be there to keep an eye on her.
That’ll help. It meant so much to her that you came home to be with her.
I wouldn’t have missed it. What a day this was.
I know. It was amazing. He would’ve loved it.
Yes, very much so. Try to get some sleep.
You too.
Nick already knew that she hadn’t cried yet. He’d checked with her sisters as well as Scotty. Now Freddie had echoed his concerns.
Brant came out of the room the Secret Service used as an office, the bag he carried to and from work on his shoulder. “Mr. Vice President. I almost didn’t see you there in the dark.”
“Heading out?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Hey, Brant?”
“Sir?”
“Thank you for all you do. The last few days couldn’t have been easy for you or the others, but you made it easy on us. It’s very much appreciated.”
“Thank you, sir. Everyone on our team was fond of Deputy Chief Holland. We were honored to serve you and your family this week.” He paused, seeming to consider his next words. “But if you ever run away from your detail again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Understood?”
Nick laughed. “Sorry about that.”
“I understand why you did it, and I might’ve done the same thing myself under the circumstances. However…”
“Say no more. I got it.”
“Is Mrs. Cappuano doing all right?”
“She’s better now that she has a belly full of whiskey. Not sure how she’ll feel in the morning, though.”
“It’s a tough loss for her. It was obvious to everyone how close they were.”
Nick stood to shake the agent’s hand. “Thanks again for everything.”
Brant shook his hand. “It’s an honor to work with and for you. Tomorrow, we need to talk about the plan for the Armstrong children. I’ve been in touch with headquarters about providing them with security. You should be aware that the GOP minority leader has inquired about whether taxpayer dollars should be used to protect children you voluntarily brought into your family while in office.”
“I’m not surprised. I expected some backlash.”
“But since you and Mrs. Cappuano will be their legal, custodial guardians, they’re entitled to protection, and we recommend they have it.”
“Agreed.”
“If it meets with your approval, I’ll work with headquarters to coordinate their protection.”
“It does. Thank you.”
“Very good. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“You should take a day off one of these days.”
“And do what?”
“Get a life?”
Brant laughed—as hard as Nick had ever seen the always-serious agent laugh. “That’ll be the day. My life is protecting your life.”
“That doesn’t count as a life of your own. We need to see about getting you a girlfriend.”
“Good night, sir.”
Nick wished he could see if Brant was blushing. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Good night, Brant.” He finished his drink and went upstairs to join Sam in bed, even if he didn’t feel tired. He rarely did without some form of medication that made him groggy the next day.
Sliding into bed next to his beloved, he snuggled up to her and took comfort from her nearness, her scent, her heat, the silk of her hair and the softness of her skin.
Freddie would keep an eye on her at work. He would keep an eye on her at home. Together, they would get her through this. Whatever she needed, whatever it took. He would be there for her—always.
CHAPTER NINE
AFTER SAM AND Nick left O’Leary’s, Gonzo pointed to the door, letting Christina know he was ready to go too. Tomorrow morning, she would return him to the rehab in Baltimore. His parents had taken Alex for the day and night so they could tend to their friends. That gave him a night alone with Christina that he wasn’t about to waste.
He’d been thankful throughout the days of mourning that no one had asked him where he’d been for the last week or when he’d be back to work. He had been prepared to tell them he was dealing with some fallout from Arnold’s death, which was true, but it wasn’t the entire story, and he wasn’t comfortable blaming his late partner for the mess he’d made of his life all on his own.
The temptation to self-medicate his way through the relentless grief that followed Arnold’s death hadn’t gone away. Gonzo struggled through each unmedicated day full of raw emotions and painful memories. His counselor at rehab had told him there was no shortcut he could take to speed up the process of coping with tragedy. He had to experience each emotion, no matter how painful, and that muting those emotions would only extend the ordeal.
Intellectually, he agreed with the theory. Emotionally, he was drained, even more so after the funeral for Skip Holland, a man he’d loved and respected.