Until Series: Box set (115 page)

“Sorry, babe.” I hear the regret in my own voice. I hate not being able to go with her, but after this job, I’ll be taking some time off until the baby gets here.

In reality, the more I think about leaving Sophie and the baby after he or she gets here, the more I start hating my job. Leo told me the other day that they have a couple of spots opening up in his department. He could get me in if I wanted. My first thought was no, but then he explained that their captain lets them do their own thing as long as they’re closing cases. Knowing that, if I took the job, I would no longer be going out of town and leaving her alone made me think harder about it. I want and need that. I hate the idea of her being home alone with a new baby. Yes, my family will be around, but it’s not the same. I never want to miss out on important occasions with my family.

“Mom’s gonna go with you so you won’t be alone.”

“I know, but it’s not the same,” she says, repeating my thought. It’s crazy to think how much my life has changed since I first laid eyes on her.

“I know it’s not.”

We drive the rest of the way home in silence. When we reach the house, I pull into the garage and help Sophie out of the car before heading to the mailbox.

“Nico,” Deb calls from two houses away, where she’s outside watering her lawn.

I lift my chin then shake my head at her. I don’t know how her husband puts up with her shit, but he’s a better man than I am. If I ever found out that Sophie was outside watering the lawn and wearing practically nothing, I would go postal.

“Hi, Deb,” Sophie calls, waving at Deb, who gives a small wave back. She presses her tits into my arm before sticking her hand in my back pocket, leaning deeper into me.

I bite my cheek to keep from smiling. It’s cute that she’s protective, but she never has anything to worry about.

“Did we get anything good?” she asks innocently, looking at the stack of letters in my hand.

I shuffle through the mail then stop when I come across the letter Sophie has been waiting for. In a way, I’m glad she’s here as I’m checking the mail. If I were on my own, I don’t know if I would have given her the letter. Yes, I want her to work through her past, but it’s engrained in me to protect her from anything that might potentially cause her pain.

“He wrote back,” she whispers, looking from the letter to my eyes.

I put all the mail in one hand before cupping her cheek with the other. “You don’t have to read it right now. You never have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” She swallows, leaning her head deeper into my hand. “You’re right. I need to see what he has to say so I can put it all behind me. I don’t want this hanging over my head anymore, and I don’t want to worry about it when the baby gets here.”

“So we read it then burn it, making it history.”

She nods, not saying anything.

Running my thumb over her jaw, I lean in and kiss her once before tucking her under my arm to lead her inside. Once I get Sophie situated out on the back patio with a glass of tea, I go get a lighter and my metal trash can from the garage and take them out with me. I hand her the letter before pulling her onto my lap. Her hands start to shake as she rips the envelope open, and I watch as she pulls the letter out, unfolding it.

Dear Sophie,

I don’t even know where to start. I got the letter from Nico after I tried to phone you. I understand why you didn’t want to talk to me, but I wish I could hear your voice. Maybe one day, we can talk and I can hear for myself that you are well and happy. I know from your boyfriend that you have become successful and are leading a life that would make your mother proud. She was always proud of you. You were the most important thing in her life, and I know her death was hard on you. I wish I could explain to you the reasons I did what I did, but there is no excuse that will justify my actions and the way I neglected you when you needed me. Your mom would hate me if she knew what happened after her death. I regret few things in my life, but my treatment of you is something I will regret until the day I die. I’m sorry.

I know it would be nearly impossible for you to forgive me, but if you could find it in yourself to offer me a few words every now and then, I would enjoy that. Your boyfriend is very different from anyone I thought you would end up with, but he seems to love you and to be very protective, and even though it’s not my right as your father, I couldn’t ask for more. Your mother would have been thrilled that you found someone who obviously loves you so deeply. I love you, Sophie. I know I didn’t show it when I should have, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you and the woman you have become. I wish I could have been a better father to you. I just didn’t know how to do that after your mom died. I’m so sorry.

I hope this letter finds you happy.

Love,

Dad

I pull a sobbing Sophie into my chest, rocking her back and forth like a child, trying to offer her some comfort. After reading that letter, I hope she will be able to find some closure.

“I got you, babe,” I shush her, rubbing her back.

When the sobs racking her body start to die down, I pull her face out of my chest, taking a second to look at her. Even with her face splotchy with tears, she’s beautiful.

“I know that was difficult, but how are you feeling?”

“Torn,” she says quietly, grabbing my wrist. “I feel like I want to talk to him. He’s the only connection I have to my mom. I feel sad that it took him so long to realize what he had, and the other part of me hates him for not being there for me when I needed him. That’s the part I don’t like. I don’t want to hate him. My mom loved him. They were so in love that, even as young as I was, I could see their love was the kind that would never die. When I was young, my dad would come home from work and walk into the house, and the first thing he would do was go to my mom and kiss her, even if I was waiting by the door for him. Then he would come and pick me up.” I don’t tell her that that’s fucked up. Our kids will be just as important as her. “When my mom died, I felt like my connection with him died too.” Yep, totally fucked up. “I think I need time to think about this.”

“You have all the time you need.”

“Thank you for being here with me.” She does a face-plant back into my chest, making me smile.

“Nowhere else I would want to be.”

“Do you remember when I told you I used to want a tattoo?” she asks quietly.

“Yes.” I run my hand down her back, holding her tighter against me.

“My dad had my mom’s name tattooed along his ribs. I wanted that, only with my husband’s name, but then I lost my mom. And not long after that, I lost my dad, and I stopped believing love could last. Now I know it can. After I have this baby, I want a tattoo like that of your name along my ribs. I belong to you—will always belong to you. You brought me back to life.” She lifts her head to look at me. Her finger runs along my jaw then up to trace my bottom lip.

I can’t talk with the emotions choking me, so I pull her in for a deep kiss, gently pressing one hand to her stomach. After I find my voice again, I tell her, “If you want that, baby, I’ll take you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers

“There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, sweet Sophie.” I pull her closer to me and smile into her hair, thinking about my name being tattooed onto her perfect skin.

*

“You sure he’s
here?” I ask Kenton, looking at the run-down house across the street from us.

“Yeah. When Ian called, he told me that Justin found a hit on his credit card. The stupid fuck ordered shit from Amazon and had it deliver here.”

“How the fuck did he run drugs without being caught for so long?” I shake my head. I swear I don’t know how most criminals are able to get away with the shit they do. Half of them are dumb as fuck.

“I don’t think he was the one in charge,” Kenton says, shaking his head.

“So what do the cops say about him?”

“They think his partners are turning on him. They want to offer him a deal, but they haven’t been able to track him. You know they always have too much red tape when it comes to this shit. Their hands are tied, so they want us convince him that he needs to come in.”

“So what’s the plan?” I look across the street again, seeing that the only light on is the one in the basement.

“We go in and do just that—use the power of persuasion to convince him to do the right thing.”

“And if he doesn’t agree?” I ask with a smile, knowing what the answer will be.

“By the time we leave him, he will be running to the cops.”

“Sounds good.” I nod. What I do isn’t always smiled upon, but knowing that one more fucked-up criminal will be off the streets before my child comes into this world makes me feel that much better about doing what I have to do. “Lets roll.”

I open the door to my car, getting out at the same time Kenton does. We don’t even bother with the front door. We walk around the side of the house, checking windows until one opens. Kenton goes in first and I follow behind him when he gives me the signal that it’s clear. After that, we search the house, making sure that no one else is inside. By the time we make it to the basement Meyer Bulger is in the middle of getting a blowjob. The chick that was sucking him off runs out of the room screaming when she sees me. I let her go, knowing that she was paid for her time and is not likely to get involved.

“Meyer,” Kenton says, sitting down casually across from the guy.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asks, his eyes are glossed over from the cocaine he was shoving up his nose.

“We came to have a chat,” I tell him, setting my gun down on the table in front of me. His eyes go wide and his hand moves to the left. “Try it and I will put a bullet in you.”

His eyes search my face, and I know that he can tell that I’m not fucking around. His hand that had been reaching for his piece moves back to his lap.

“What do you want?” he asks, looking between Kenton and me.

“You,” Kenton says with a shrug.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what it means, Meyer.” I shake my head.

“I’m not a snitch.”

“Then you’re dead,” I tell him, starting to stand.

“No, you don’t understand.”

“I do understand.” I look him over. “I can see it now. You probably started using your own product when no one was watching. Eventually your addiction caught up with you and you couldn’t get enough. When that happened, you started fucking up, and the people at the top of the food chain didn’t like that much. Now they want you dead. So tell me. What’s it going to be?”

“You know if I talk to the cops I’m signing my death warrant.”

“You have a better chance of surviving if you work with the cops,” Kenton tells him.

“Fuck.” He shakes his head, his eyes falling to his lap, and just like that, I know we won.

I look at Kenton and smile, ready to get the fuck home to my girl.

*

“Ma, we’re not
moving,” I state firmly then watch Sophie’s bottom lip wobble. Fuck, I hate when she cries, and she cries about everything lately. “Baby, please don’t cry.” I pull her into my side, kissing her head.

“I always wanted to live in the country, and the money from selling my house can buy it. Please just look at it before you say no,” she says, looking up at me with tears filling her eyes.

“You’re not buying our house.” I look at the ceiling, praying for patience. “Ma, do you see the trouble you’re causing?” I narrow my eyes on my mom. “I leave my girl with you for three days, and this is what you do?”

“Your mom’s not causing trouble.” Sophie sighs, looking at my mom then me.

I see something pass between them. “What?” I look at my mom and then back to her.

“I have something to tell you,” Sophie says, biting her bottom lip while avoiding eye contact.

“What?” I repeat.

“I think you should sit,” she says, wringing her hands together.

“I don’t need to sit. Is it about the baby?” I ask, feeling sick all of a sudden.

“I really think you should sit, honey,” my mom says quietly, causing me to panic.