Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook (29 page)

“Human? God, Bree, you don’t have to be anything more than you are for Nicki, me, and Storm to love you. But don’t worry. I’m sure Storm hasn’t said anything to Nicki. He means well, you know. The only reason he told me was because you disappeared and I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine. What’s this about?”

Pete pulled his robe around him and shivered.

“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn up the thermostat?”

His hand on her knee stopped her from jumping. “No, I’m fine.” He shot her a tortured look, rubbed his forehead, and then slicked back his hair with a shaking hand.

“Calm down. I’m sure we can work out whatever it is.” She didn’t have a clue what was wrong, but it must have something to do with Storm.

“I see the way you and Storm dance around each other. I don’t pretend to know what happened between you two before Storm took off, but whatever it was hurt you both.”

Bree let out a relieved breath. “It was a long time ago. And we’re working through it, getting to know each other again. We’ve buried the hatchet and are seeing where to go from here.”

“It must have been one hell of a big hatchet. I’m not blind, Bree. It didn’t escape my notice that Storm went out of his way to avoid seeing you all these years.”

“He said he came home, but you never mentioned he visited.”

“Whenever he came home, you were away at school. Probably by design. He didn’t come home nearly often enough, and for whatever reason, he made me promise not to mention it to you.”

Bree didn’t say anything and didn’t bother pretending it didn’t hurt. If what Storm said last night was true, she wasn’t the only one afraid. She must have really scared the hell out of him.

“Storm said your date went well.”

“We did get a lot of things worked out.”

“You spent the night with him, Bree. I was hoping things went beyond burying the hatchet.”

“It did, but it’s confusing. You know how he feels about Red Hook. And Red Hook is my home.”

“It’s Nicki’s home too.”

“Of course it is.”

“So you spent the night together and didn’t talk about the future? For two people who have no problem communicating with everyone else, you sure do a crappy job with each other.”

Bree winced. Most of the fault for their lack of communication rested squarely on her shoulders—something else that she would have to change. “Tell me about it.”

Pete took her hand and squeezed. “Bree, it’s important that Storm stays here now. I hoped you’d tell me you think he’s back for good.”

“He said he’d stay until you were back on your feet and able to take care of Nicki by yourself. We haven’t talked about anything beyond that.”

“That’s the thing. Nicki should have more than just me taking care of her.”

Pete was beating around the bush again. She’d never seen him like this in all the years she’d known him. She
faced him and covered his shaking, cold hand in hers. “What are you not telling me?”

“I hope to God I’m doing the right thing telling you this. When I took Nicki in, I thought I had plenty of time—”

“Time for what?”

“Time to get things settled. But then I had the heart attack. I need to know Nicki will be taken care of should anything happen to me.”

“You don’t have to worry about Nicki. I’ll always be there for her.”

“I know you will.” Pete put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “And I love you for it, but Nicki needs at least one of her parents.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and contact her mother.” Rage she hadn’t known existed boiled to the surface. She had to move. She brushed off Pete’s arm and paced the room, trying to calm her temper before turning back to him. “Pete, the woman abandoned her. She left Nicki with a total stranger. She hasn’t even tried to contact her in the three months she’s been with us.”

“I’m not going after Marisa. Bree, I’m talking about Nicki’s father.”

Bree felt as if her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer, and her stomach ended up in her throat. She sank into the couch beside Pete. “You know who her father is?”

“I have an idea. A possibility. A few possibilities, actually. Marisa used to work as a waitress at the bar when the boys were all still home.”

Bree’s scalp tightened, and fear of whatever it was Pete was having such a hard time spitting out raced through her with every beat of her heart. It was something bad enough to shake the once-unshakable man
she’d known her whole life. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“I thought if Storm was planning to move back here, it would be easier to talk to him about this. Bree, when Marisa left Nicki with me, Nicki was hysterical. Marisa was halfway out the door when she said I was Nicki’s grandfather and that Nicki would be better off with me.”

“If you’re Nicki’s grandfather, who did she say Nicki’s father was?”

“She didn’t. She took off. It could be a lie for all I know, but then I suppose it could be any one of my boys.”

“And you think it’s Storm?” Bree hadn’t realized she’d said it aloud until Pete shook his head and ran his hand through what was left of his hair.

“I’m not sure. If I remember correctly, Logan had a girlfriend back then, and Slater had his head stuck so far into his computers, I don’t think he discovered women until after he went into the navy.”

Bree wrapped her arms around herself. “You think Storm is Nicki’s father?”

“I don’t know how to ask him.” Pete scrubbed his face with his hand. “Bree, when Storm left, he wasn’t supposed to have joined the merchant marines for another few months. He ran away. He left the hemisphere on the first ship he could get out on. I never would have thought he’d run out on his own child, but I think the idea of being a father could have scared the hell out of him.”

Bree looked into Pete’s pain-filled eyes. “Storm told me he left because of me.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I did. I had no reason not to.”

“Until I told you what Marisa said. Shit. This was a
mistake. I thought with you and Storm getting closer, you’d have a better handle on how he might react to this. I thought…Aw hell, I thought if Nicki was his, that you and Storm would finally get your shit together and—”

“Do what, Pete? Storm might be here now, and we’re seeing each other, but that doesn’t change the fact that everything—his life, his business—is in New Zealand.”

“His family, you, and Nicki are here.”

She was on the outside looking in again. Bree went back to pacing. “You can’t tell Nicki until you know for sure. You need to talk to Storm.”

Bree’s mind raced. Storm could be Nicki’s father. That couldn’t be bad, could it? Nicki loved him, and from everything she’d seen, Storm was falling hard for Nicki too. She looked into Pete’s rheumy eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Pete shook his head. “You probably don’t remember what Storm was like when he first came to me. Bree. You don’t know the kind of abuse Storm suffered.”

“Abuse? I thought his parents were dead and that you fostered him after you caught him stealing a boat.”

“I caught him, all right. I caught him and returned him to his parents.” Pete was quiet for a long time, seemingly lost in the painful memories. Regret and guilt rolled off him in waves. “After I’d left them, his father went after him with a tire iron. It was my fault. Storm begged me not to tell his parents. I knew he was scared; I thought it was because he’d been caught. His father almost killed him.”

“Oh, Pete. You had no way of knowing—” Bree wanted to comfort him. The pain in his eyes amplified the rawness of the regret in his voice.

“Sure I did. I should have taken him back to the precinct.
I should have gone by the book. If I had, I would have seen the history of domestic disturbances and emergency room visits. Broken ribs, a broken arm, black eyes, a bruised spleen…His medical file was the size of the New York phone book. When I saw it, I thought I was going to be sick. But I liked the kid. By taking him home, I thought I was doing him a favor. Kids make mistakes; I wanted to cut him a break. I heard the domestic disturbance call less than a half hour later. When I arrived, it was all I could do not to shoot the bastard who fathered him.”

“Pete—”

He waved away any platitudes she may have given him. Storm hadn’t been much older than Nicki when Pete took him in. Her heart broke for the little boy he’d been and the man she loved.

“I did the only thing I could do to make it right, to make up for failing him. After he got out of the hospital, I made sure he never had to go back to his parents again. I worked the system. I took him in. I was responsible for him.”

“You loved him.”

“How could I not? He didn’t have an easy time of it, Bree. He ran every chance he got. Every time he did something wrong, if I so much as raised my voice, he’d run. By the time he hit sixteen, I thought he’d stopped running all together. Until that night. He ran again, and I’m not sure why.

“If Marisa had told him she was pregnant, he may very well have run. Not for himself, but to protect the child from the monster he thought he might become. Even if he’s not Nicki’s father, the idea of fatherhood is going to bring up all kinds of painful memories for him.”

“Oh God. But since he ran, he’s grown up. He’s responsible, an adult; he’s made something of himself. He’s not that scared boy anymore.”

Bree blinked back tears. Bree loved Nicki and wanted to protect her from the hurt that gets buried so deep, there can be no digging it out. She wanted to protect Storm. She wanted a family with Storm and Nicki—she wanted it all.

She’d thought she’d had no illusions. She’d thought any illusions she once had were shattered years ago. She’d thought wrong—the ringing in her ears was the sound of her last illusion shattering. Bree cleared her throat, hoping she wouldn’t sound on the verge of falling apart. There would be time enough for that later. “Maybe Nicki’s not his. Have you talked to Logan? If anyone would know what happened back then, it would be him.”

“No, I haven’t said anything to any of the boys. None are in a position to take on Nicki right now. Well, maybe Storm—if he doesn’t rabbit again, but Logan and Slater aren’t, and I can’t hit them with this over the phone. Hell, they can’t leave work. Both their careers depend on their finishing their commitments.”

Pete stared at his hands. “Nicki comes off like a tough kid, but she’s fragile. I need to be the one to tell them, Bree. Nicki is my grandchild in my heart if nothing else. She’s my responsibility, my family.”

“Okay.” And once again, she was on the outside looking in.

“Then it’s decided. I’ll talk to Logan when he comes home. Maybe he’ll know if Storm and Marisa were together.”

“I don’t like it, but as you said, it’s your decision.” She didn’t like it at all, but this wasn’t her family. It was Pete’s.

 * * *

Storm helped Nicki set the table and looked up when Pop trudged through the door. “Where’s Bree? Dinner is almost ready.”

Pete looked like he’d aged a decade since leaving not twenty minutes ago. Storm pulled out his chair and helped lower Pop into it. “Are you okay?” he asked under his breath.

“Would you stop asking me that? Damn, you’d think I have one foot in the grave. I’m fine.”

Storm put his arm around Nicki, who seemed to shrink into herself. “It’s okay, Nicki. Why don’t you wash up? Bree will be here in a minute.” Storm waited until he heard the bathroom door close. “Give it a break, Pop. You look like shit.”

“Yeah, well, what the hell do you expect? I just got out of the hospital. You look like shit too, and all you have to complain about is missing a good night’s sleep.”

Storm held on to the end of the table and bent to eye level. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass today, but you’d better cut it out. You’re scaring Nicki, and so help me, if you do anything to screw up what Bree and I have going, I’ll kill you myself.”

Pop raised an eyebrow and looked pleased.

“Are you pulling that reverse-psychology crap again? It didn’t work when I was a kid. It’s not going to work now.”

“Really? It seems to be working just fine. But if you want to keep Bree, you had better tell her things have changed.”

“I don’t want to scare her away. Hell, I’ve been home less than a week. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“No, but it burned in one. She still thinks you’re going to leave as soon as you can.”

Storm shrugged and went into the kitchen to check on the salmon; he had to step over D.O.G., who was sprawled out on the linoleum floor, in the way of everything. Storm was stirring the rice when Bree came into the kitchen looking a little pale, and skirted the dog. He gave Bree a quick kiss. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The flat tone of her voice had Storm doing a double take.

“What can I do to help?”

He shrugged, hoping he was imagining things, and handed her the pot of rice. “Just put this in a bowl. I have everything else covered.” He took the asparagus out of the microwave and tossed it on the platter next to the salmon. It wasn’t pretty, but it was definitely edible.

Bree stared at him, holding the spoon. She looked as if she were a million miles away.

“Do you need some help with that?”

“What?” She looked at her hand as if she’d never seen a spoon before. “Oh no. It’s fine.”

Something was definitely up. He took everything out to the table and served Pop and Nicki—who wore identical faces of discontent.

Nicki took her fork and pushed a piece of fish away. “What is it?”

Storm laughed. “If you’d helped with dinner, you’d know. It’s salmon.”

“It’s fish?”

Bree brought the rice to the table, and Storm held her chair for her. “Yes, Nicki. Salmon is fish.”

“I don’t like fish. Neither does Pop.”

Bree scooped some rice onto her plate and then
served Nicki before handing it to Pop. “Lox is fish, and you like that.”

It was obviously news to Nicki.

“Take an adventure bite. You know the rules.”

Storm shot Bree a sideways glance. “An adventure bite?”

“Yes, everyone has to taste everything on their plate. They don’t have to eat it, but they do have to try it.” She shot Pop a pointed look. “Isn’t that right, Pete?”