Page 93 of One Filthy Kiss

I don’t need to elaborate. While he works on his handheld device, I call in a favor of my own. It’s a last resort. One that I shouldn’t need to fall back on because Ric will relocate Meggie and Amber to the bunker when the time is right.

I knock back a brandy shot.

I feel as though we’re flying through the calm before the storm, but it’s the silent rage pulsing through my veins that’s keeping the adrenaline flowing.

It’s easy to remain detached from what I do when there are no emotions involved. But this… The stakes are too high. The Fish has threatened the people I care most about in the world, and it won’t be over until I have personally scratched out his dead eyes with a blunt fucking knife, liquidized them, and fed them to him through a straw.

My fist closes around the brandy glass until I fear I’m going to smash it.

Meggie needs me to stay calm. She needs me thinking with clarity because it’s the only way I can keep her safe. If I lose control now, I lose everything.

I refill my glass, swallow a mouthful of brandy, and go back to the CCTV footage from the cabin.

Meggie is in the kitchen loading up a pizza crust with toppings. I can tell by the angle of her head and the pursed lips that she’s angry.

Amber and Nikki are nowhere to be seen.

Meggie raises her head, narrows her eyes; her lips barely move when she speaks. Is Nikki somewhere in the room? Is she coming clean?

My heart aches for Meggie. I’ve only known her for a short while, but we’ve talked a lot about trivial stuff, everyday life, routines, favorite movies, food we dislike, vacations, school, work. And Nikki is the only friend that Meggie talks about. Reading between the lines, Nikki knows everything there is to know about her best friend, and vice versa, and Meggie has been too wary to let anyone else in because her past is too painful to talk about.

Now, from the way she appears to be folding in on herself on the screen, she’s experiencing the crushing disappointment of betrayal, and I can do nothing to protect her from that.

She slams the knife she’s holding onto the chopping board.

I wish I could reach through the camera, pull her into my arms, and make her feel safe again. But even as the thought materializes, I’m bowled over by the reminder of Lucia’s visit. The last time Meggie and I were together, the knowledge of my engagement to another woman was fresh in her mind, so I know exactly how Meggie is feeling right now.

Lonely.

She must feel as if everyone she knows has let her down, and she is in this alone, despite the team of bodyguards surrounding her. She doesn’t know my men. She wouldn’trun to them for advice or ask them to keep an eye on Amber while she has a shower or even get them to carry her bags while she runs some errands. She wouldn’t get this angry if one of my bodyguards let her down because there’s no emotional attachment between them.

But Nikki is a whole different story.

Nikki knows all there is to know about Meggie and Amber’s history, and she still made the wrong choice.

I can’t hear what’s being said, but I can read Meggie’s responses from her facial expressions. It’s painful to watch. But part of me is grateful that Ric hasn’t yet relocated them to the bunker. Meggie will be panicking enough if she has to go underground, without a fight persisting between her and her friend.

Then something happens, and Nikki comes into the footage. She sits at the table as Meggie joins her with the medical kit and starts cleaning her hand. It’s obvious, watching the black and white recording, that the tension between them has evaporated.

I don’t know what passes between them, but one moment they’re sitting at the table, and the next, Nikki is on the floor with her head between her legs. Meggie yanks open drawers until she finds what she’s looking for, and the two of them sit together directly facing the camera. She holds something over Nikki’s face like a gas mask.

When she finally lowers it, my Meggie is back. The caring, gentle, beautiful soul that I fell in love with. She pulls Nikki’s head against her like a child and speaks directly at the camera.

Watching her, it’s as though all the emotions I’ve suppressedover the years since my parents and Elisabetta died have resurfaced like skeletons clawing their way through the soil.

Meggie loves me. Of that I’m certain, because never in the history of time has anyone’s eyes ever reflected love the way Meggie’s eyes do. My pulse races, and my love for her swells in my chest like a balloon.

I have so much gratitude. After Elisabetta, I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve to love or be loved.Now it has reinforced my determination to do what is right for Meggie and Amber.

But gradually seeping through these emotions is the sickly sense of dread that this is goodbye. She knows that I’m watching. She’s letting me know how she feels in case she doesn’t get to tell me herself.

I check the time on my wristwatch.

The reaction isn’t lost on Bruno. “My friend will be waiting to meet us at the airport.”

Why hasn’t Ric moved them into the bunker? If they’d taken down the target, I’d have heard from him by now, but his silence is doing nothing to disperse the cold layer of sludge forming in my gut.

But before I get a chance to call Ric, a video call from Bianca fires through on my device. I answer without hesitation.