Along Came a Spider (18 page)

Seriously. Please don’t worry about it. . . .

“No, I owe you an apology,” he went on, shaking his head a little. “You were vulnerable and I took advantage of that.”

“No, no, Nicky,” I said quickly. “Really, I—”

“Hell, I’m just sorry, Trish,” he said on a sigh. “It was an asshole thing to do. Won’t happen again.”

My shoulders sagged, wondering if we’d be having a different conversation about what had taken place if I hadn’t just compared him to his wife’s murderer. “Right.”

He shook his head again as if he was completely disgusted with his behavior. “I just . . . I think I’ve been getting in your head for so long, I feel like I know you.”

“I know the feeling,” I muttered.

“The thing is,” he continued, “I’ve been coming on to you since that night in your apartment, and I had no right. Not when I’m getting the hell outta town as soon as this shit is over. It’s not fair to you. I wasn’t good enough for you the day I met you, Trish—and I’m sure as hell not good enough for you now.”

I shook my head, confused. “On the day you met me?”

He nodded. “That day we came over. I saw you lying there in that field and there was something . . . I don’t know. I felt a connection when you looked at me, doll. It was like nothin’ I’d ever felt before or since. Hell, you probably don’t even remember.”

Was he kidding?

“I remember,” I breathed.

His brows lifted and a smile teased at the corners of his mouth, but he quickly shoved it away, resuming his scowl. “Yeah, well, I wanted you so bad at that moment, wanted to keep feelin’ that way, I didn’t even think before I asked you to come with me. I just . . . I just wanted to hang on to that. But when you refused so damned politely, I realized you deserved a helluva lot more than some two-bit thief could offer. You still do. ’Cause when you get down to it, Trish, I’m still the same guy I was that day.”

“Good,” I said, my heart hammering at his confession.

His brows flinched together. “What?”

I closed the distance between us in a few quick steps and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to me and pressing a hard, hungry kiss to his mouth. When he abruptly broke the kiss and looked down at me, he was panting, his pupils dilated with desire and wide with disbelief at the same time.

“Trish,” he stammered, “I—”

“Shut up, Nicky,” I interrupted. “And kiss me again.”

He didn’t need any urging. And soon we were easing down onto the kitchen floor. I remember that the terra-cotta tile was cold against my back, but then all other thoughts ceased except for the feel of Nicky’s hands skimming across my skin, the warmth of his body as it pressed against mine, the pleasure he brought me as we made love there on the kitchen floor. As rough as the sex had been earlier, I was surprised at how gentle he now was, how tender and loving was each caress.

At some point we ended up back in the bedroom and when we finally collapsed into each other’s arms, I still found myself wondering if I was trapped in some wonderful, blissful dream and if any moment I would wake up and realize that I was still alone, cold and lonely, in my own little bed in my apartment.

Nicky pressed a kiss to my shoulder and then peered down at me, his brow furrowed. I reached up and cupped his cheek, smoothing my thumb across his skin.

“Hey there,” he said. “Welcome back.”

“Sorry?”

“You drifted away from me there for a minute,” he explained. “Where’d you go?”

I sighed. “Got lost in my thoughts, I guess.” I ran my fingertips along the tattoo at his shoulder, then, suddenly seeing the picture in the design, I blinked at him in dismay. “This is a spider.”

He nodded. “Took a helluva long time to get the damn thing to stay. My Tale body kept trying to heal it before the guy could finish.”

“So, why a spider?” I asked. “You’re not taking the nickname the Agency has given you that seriously, are you?”

Nicky grinned. “They didn’t give me that nickname. That’s what I told them to call me.”

I shook my head, confused. “Sorry—what?”

“When I figured out that they were on to me, I decided to leave them a little calling card and signed it The Spider.”

“But why?”

“I guess I’ve thought of myself that way for a while now,” he sighed, lying back against his pillow with his arm behind his head. “I mean, I frightened Miss Muffet away on my first day in the Here and Now, didn’t I?”

My heart hopped up into my throat, making it hard for me to get my voice past it to ask, “So the tattoo, it was . . .”

“It was a reminder,” Nicky finished. “A reminder of everything I wanted and didn’t deserve.”

“Oh, Nicky,” I breathed. “You don’t understand. I didn’t say no to you that day because I thought I was too good for you or because I was afraid of you. I—”

The doorbell suddenly sounded, cutting me off.

“Who the hell got past my gates?” Nicky mumbled. He pressed a kiss to my lips, then threw back the covers. “Stay here, doll. I’m going to go see who it is.”

I grinned as he strolled, naked, toward the bedroom door. “You might want some pants, lover.”

He gave me a wink. “Don’t think the Bible thumpers want to get a good look at this?” he asked, sweeping his arm down his torso.

I giggled and lobbed one of the pillows at him. “Put some clothes on and see who’s at the door. Then you’d better get that fine ass back in here. I’m not done with you yet.”

His brows shot up as the doorbell rang again. “Well, that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

I was still grinning when I heard the thunderous pounding on the front door. “Damn,” I muttered. “Insistent little bastards.”

I heard Nicky open the front door and then male voices. I sat up, listening intently, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Then there was a loud crash and a chorus of shouts.

“What the hell?” I muttered, throwing off the covers and grabbing a shirt and pair of pajama pants from my suitcase. I raced down the stairs, not giving a shit what might be waiting for me. My only concern was for Nicky’s safety.

When I reached the bottom of the steps, I slid to a halt, quickly assessing the situation. Four FMA agents were laid out on the ground, two of them apparently unconscious. Another three were pinning Nicky against the wall, while another tried to put handcuffs on him.

My God—they’d sent eight agents? What the fuck?

I raced forward, grabbing one of them by the scruff of the collar and jerking him away. “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

The guy I’d grabbed pivoted and took a swing at me, but I ducked his arm and came up swiftly, pinching each side of his trachea with my fingers, cutting off his air just enough to quiet him down. “Somebody explain this shit right fucking now!”

The guy who’d been putting handcuffs on Nicky took him roughly by the upper arm and turned to face me.

“McCain?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back, his tone condemning. “Married to the job, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it, Trish,” Nicky said around a split lip that was already swelling. “I’ve gotten out of worse.”

“Worse?” I repeated. “What the hell is happening here? Why are you guys taking him in?”

“Apparently, he roughed up one of the guys from the Agency,” McCain explained as the other agents helped their comrades who were coming around and trying to get to their feet.

“What?” I shrieked. “That’s bullshit! Nicky was protecting me. That asshole Spalding and his boys took out Halloran’s girlfriend and her bodyguards and then got rough with me when I showed up.”

McCain shrugged. “Sorry, Trish, that’s not the story they told Al. He ordered us to bring Nicky in.”

I blinked at him in disbelief, my chest constricting with that particular brand of pain that went along with betrayal. “Al did this?”

McCain nodded. “You’ll have to take it up with him. In the meantime, I gotta take in your—what?—boyfriend?”

When I pressed my lips together in an angry line, McCain shoved Nicky toward the open door.

“Wait!” I snapped. “You could at least let him put on some shoes and a shirt, you jackass! It’s February, for God’s sake.”

McCain pegged me with an irritated glare, but said, “Fine. You have two minutes to get him something to put on.”

I raced back up the stairs and grabbed one of Nicky’s black turtleneck sweaters from the shelf in his closet and a pair of socks and combat boots.

“You wanna take these handcuffs off, pal?” Nicky asked when I returned. “I don’t mind Trish undressing me, but dressing me’s a different story.” When McCain looked like he was going to tell him to fuck off, Nicky added, “I promise to be a good boy. There’s a lady present and all that.”

McCain huffed, but took out his key and unlocked the handcuffs. The instant he did, the other agents pulled their guns and trained them on Nicky as a further reminder that he needed to behave. Nicky quickly pulled his sweater over his head and ran his hands through his dark hair. Then he sat down on the stairs to put his shoes on. I sat down next to him, watching his face intently, but never once did he look concerned until he glanced my way. Then his brow furrowed and he paused to put an arm around me and draw me close.

“Everything will be okay,” he murmured against my hair. “I promise. This is nothing, Trish. I’ve been through it before.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” I assured him. “I’ll talk to Al and get this straightened out.”

“Come on, Blue,” McCain snapped. “Time’s up.”

Nicky stood and pulled me up with him, then took my face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “I’ll see ya soon, doll.”

I nodded. “You’d better.”

Nicky turned and put his hands behind his back for McCain to put the cuffs back on, and kissed me again as they clicked into place. Then he gave me a grin and a playful wink before McCain led him out the door. They all loaded into the SUVs and slammed the door on Nicky, blocking him from my view. McCain was opening the door to get in when he saw me standing in the doorway and paused. I heard him curse under his breath and then he was striding toward me.

I spread my legs in an attack stance in case he’d decided to try to take me in, too, but he shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets and ducked his head a little. “Be careful, Trish,” he said quietly. “Spalding’s gunning for Nicky big-time after what happened. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle.”

“Gee, McCain,” I spat, “I didn’t know you cared.”

He gave me an apologetic look. “I do care,” he muttered. “A lot. I’m sorry things had to go down this way.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Me, too.”

He heaved a sigh. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”

The guy looked genuinely sorry for what he’d been sent to do, but that did little to help dampen the anger that was boiling up inside me. Without a word, I slammed the door in his face and made my way upstairs to get dressed, my mind churning with the facts that I knew.

Spalding had it out for Nicky because of me, and Al had rolled over to take it up the ass from the Agency. I couldn’t believe that he’d give up one of his own with so little resistance, but if he thought I wasn’t going to have a thing to say about it, he could think again. I had so much to say, in fact, I hoped I still had a job when I was done.

Chapter Fourteen

“This is bullshit!”

Al Addin looked up from the paperwork on his desk and regarded me calmly. “I remember the days when you used to knock.”

“I remember the days when you used to have a pair,” I shot back.

His eyes flashed with mild anger, but he gestured toward the chair across from him. “Have a seat, Trish.”

I slammed the door and stormed over to the chair but didn’t sit. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared down at him. “Nicky didn’t do anything wrong. Spalding’s just pissed because Nicky cleaned his clock in front of his men.”

“Yes, he is,” Al agreed. “And if it’d been you who’d done it, we’d be having a very different conversation. But Nicky Blue is a known crime lord. I can’t protect him the same way I can protect you.”

“Protect him?” I echoed, incredulous. “You call sending eight men barging into Nicky’s house to rough him up and bring him in protecting him?”

“Roughing him up wasn’t part of the plan,” Al assured me, leaning back in his chair and giving me that look of his that made me a little jumpy. He only used it when he was righteously pissed off—and it was generally the only indication that he was. “I’m afraid things weren’t fully explained before one of the Enforcers decided to act. I believe he’s still recovering from the broken jaw Nicky Blue gave him, but the doctors tell me he’ll be fine.”

“So, what was supposed to happen?” I demanded.