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He went.
And I was left with Little Miss Trouble Maker.
“Really, Nikki?” I asked, amusement clear in my voice.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Go fuck yourself, pendejo,” she snarled.
There was my little Spanish hellcat. The one that only came out when she was well and truly pissed.
I raised a brow at her, and then took in her attire.
I liked the way her spiky heels brought her up to me.
I liked the way she stared me in the eyes, all fire and innocence with a hint of prissiness.
“Take it outside, buddy,” Elliott said from my back.
I looped my fingers around Nikki’s wrist, noting that she’d gotten more delicate since I’d last seen her, and made a mental note to speak with her about that as well.
First on the agenda, though, was setting her straight.
I’d gone long enough keeping her in the dark.
It was time to bring her into the light.
Let her know what all she was about to get into.
Because I’d just given my notice, so to speak.
I wouldn’t be the FBI’s guinea pig.
I would be my own man and I’d have my woman at my side.
“Let go of me,” Nikki yanked her arm out of my grip before we’d made it outside.
I stopped, then pushed her into the handicap bathroom, slamming the door closed before she could protest.
“Michael! Let me out!” She shrieked.
I moved forward, until my body was pinning hers to the door, and she started to squirm viciously.
Her shirt rode up, and I looked down, feeling the new hardness of her abdomen.
Before it’d been soft and yielding. Now it was hard and round, causing me to lose my train of thought.
I moved my hand down until it rested on the side of her belly, my hand cupping the small life inside her tummy.
“You’ve gotten big,” I murmured softly.
She froze.
Then smacked me upside the head.
“You don’t tell the woman you knocked up that she’s gotten big!” She snarled.
I chuckled, then dropped down to my knees in front of her.
I moved my hands up, catching the hem of her shirt, and pushed it over her belly as I slid my hands up to her ribs.
My eyes feasted on the sight before me.
Her gently swollen belly popped out over the top of her pants.
A black hair tie looped around the hole of the jeans, and then over the button, holding them closed.
Her belly button was a little less concave, and I assumed, by the end of her pregnancy, it’d be an outie instead of an innie.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips against the soft skin of her belly, and said, “I’ve been a fool.”
Her hands found my hair, and I looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Nikki,” I told her. “I’ve only been thinking of you, though. This guy…whomever he is…he’s good. He’s gotten fifteen couples to date, and out of his thirty five kills, only two have made it. We have one witness, and he hasn’t been able to give us a fuckin’ thing to go on beside the build and color of the man’s hair. He never went to any of the appointments, so we’re all hanging on by a fricking thread.”
“Why haven’t you come to see me?” She asked, devastation clear in her voice.
I shook my head.
“At first,” I said. “It was because I was trying to get my head on straight. Then I started seeing a therapist that the department recommended. Then another murder happened, and well, I’ve been a fucking coward. I should’ve come to you. I actually have every night since I left you in bed that night two months ago…I just don’t come inside.”
She glared.
“Who’s the woman?” She snapped.
“An FBI agent. She’s going to help us catch this man. She’s been posing as a new patient who moved here because her husband was transferred to another police department…but I’m not sure that’s going to work too well now since I was supposed to be that police officer,” I told her honestly.
She glared.
“And what does being a fake husband make you have to do?” She asked, clearly not happy with my answer.
I shrugged. “Go to doctor’s appointments. Be seen with her in public. Stay in the same place at night.”
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.
“And what about my appointments?” She asked.
I saw where she was going with it, and I knew she wouldn’t like my answer.
“I can’t go to them.”
And I couldn’t.
Not if this was to be authentic and believable.
“What about the birth of our child…will you be able to come then?” She asked calmly.
“If he’s caught,” I said carefully.
She dropped her hand from my face and stood there, looking up at the ceiling.
Her tears had never abated, and I felt about six inches high.
“Please get off me,” she said. “Please.”
“We can have each other at night,” I told her. “I love you.”
Those words seemed to make her snap.
She pushed me away from her with enough force that I fell backwards, my ass planting on the ground solidly.
And I was also far enough away that she almost had the door open.
Almost.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she growled, yanking on the door.
I slammed my hand down to stop her progress.
“It has to look real!” I yelled at her.
“You want to have real, use me! I’m real! You put this baby inside of me, maybe you should use me since I’m actually yours!” She yelled, waving her hands in the air in true Pena Tantrum fashion.
My eyes narrowed, then I moved forward until I could only make out the whites of her eyes.
“I can’t use you. Because you’re mine, and I don’t ever want you on that man’s radar,” I hissed, crowding her into the dirty, grunge covered wall once again.
She pushed at my shoulders, but I didn’t budge.
“Get off me!” She screamed, drawing the attention of the entire bar I was sure.
I pulled back and let her escape, and immediately saw Dane.
Dane had taken my place on the Lisette’s arm. He looked at me in concern, but he didn’t intervene.
Nobody did, in fact.
I followed Nikki out of the bar.
