I’d left the text thread open.
Her breathing grew quicker, sharper. “What the fuck is this?” She gaped at me. “Is this Nick?”
“Let me see.” Ramsay stood and gestured for the phone.
Nee handed it over and then knelt next to me. She squeezed my knee. “Has he been bothering you?”
Fresh tears trembled at my eyelids, blurring my vision. “I didn’t want to stress you out when you’re pregnant.”
She huffed. “Then you should have told Ramsay.”
“She did,” Ramsay confessed. “That’s what the prick means by ‘government dog.’” His gaze moved to me. “I was going to tell you today. He’s been trying to pull strings to get immigration to investigate you, but I managed to squash it. And I’ve been told by someone I trust to back off completely for now. Something big is coming for the Hustons. I can’t say what it is, but I’ve been assured Nick and his whole family won’t be an issue for much longer.” Ramsay waved the phone, his lip curled in disgust. “He’s pissed off because he can’t get to you. And this is just meant to scare you.”
“Job well done,” Nee spat angrily. “You’re sure he’s not a threat?”
Ramsay shook his head. “He’s been cut off from his so-called friends in power here in the UK.” He looked me directly in the eyes. “He can’t touch you, London. Every bit of power he had is about to go up in a puff of smoke. He will never ever get near you again.”
A sob gasped out of me before I could stop it because I wanted to believe that, but there was always this fear. Like Nick was the monster in my closet. Nee pulled me into her arms and I cried, apologizing to her because I was so worried my shit was stressing her out.
“Stop apologizing,” Nee hushed me. “I’m okay and you’re okay. I love you.”
Ramsay eventually got us both up off our feet, and he left us in the B and B kitchen once he was sure we were okay. I think he knew Tierney and I needed to talk this out.
Emmy, Nee’s seasonal manager, seemed to sense something was going on, and she made herself scarce, preparing for guests to wake up.
Before doing anything else, I slugged back a huge gulp of coffee. It had been an intensely emotional couple of days.
As I prepped for breakfast, Nee helped and we talked.
“I felt a distance between us,” Nee confessed. “I just thought it was the baby.”
I gaped. “No, Nee … no, I am so excited to be an aunt. I’m so excited for you.”
“Good.” Her chin wobbled. “I’m overly emotional right now.”
“Hey, I just had the emotional breakdown of the century. No judgment here.”
At that she hesitated as she sliced the bread we’d ordered from the bakery, so I didn’t have to worry about making fresh bread on top of everything else. “I … um … is that how he used to speak to you? I mean, I saw it a little for myself that day in New York, but …”
“Do you mean psychotic?” Now my chin wobbled. “He never shouted. He used to say these awful things in this quiet, rational-sounding voice, which just made it scarier. But you know what scared me more?”
“What?”
“I think I would have killed him to defend myself.”
“That’s called survival instinct. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you strong.” Nee gave me a fierce look.
“Am I, though?”
“Yes. Nick underestimated you, London. He thought he had you where he wanted you and he didn’t, and it eats at him because he’s been told his whole life that he can do, have, and be whatever he wants without consequence. And he can’t believe you walked away and that there are actual consequences raining down on him. So he lashes out at you, trying to control you from within the prison of his own making. Every time you ignore him and live your life, youwin.”
Love for her suddenly flooded over me in an overwhelming wave. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”
“I understand why you did.”
“I love you so much.”
Nee smiled tearfully. “To the moon, Spoon.”
