Page 69 of Pay the Piper

“Of course, tell me anything.” For someone who was just interrupted, his smile is rather warm. Almost knowing.

“I…Well I…” I sigh. “I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay. You can tell me anything, Abigail.”

“I know, I know, It’s just…a lot, and I don’t—wait…did you just call me Abigail?”

That’s odd…Not a long shot to assume Abby is short for Abigail, but I’ve never told him, and he’s never called me that before either. My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure Nikki can hear it, and his smirk all but guarantees it’s what I’ve feared all along.

“Didn’t you used to go by Abigail? Or would you prefer Niamh now?”

He knows.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. Wait…I can’t see?

“There you go. You’re okay. I’ve got you, Abby. I’ve got you.”

My eyes flutter open to nothing but a bright blur as someone coos and pets my hair.

“Good, good. Try to open your eyes. Just keep breathing.”

Nikki?

My vision sharpens to see the familiar, handsome face looking down at me with concern.

What is going—Oh, that’s right. He knows who I am. My terror returns, but before I can go into full-on panic mode, Nikki speaks up.

“Hey hey, you’re safe. You’re going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen to you, Abby, okay? Just calm down and breathe. Shh, that’s it, girl. I’ve got you. Deep breaths, follow me.”

He guides me in some deep breaths, helps me to sit up, and hands me a cup. “That’s it, good job. Now drink this. I promise it’s nothing scary, just apple juice.”

We sit in silence as I slowly and skeptically drink the supposedly not-scary apple juice.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought maybe if you knew I knew, it would be easier to talk, but obviously, I miscalculated your reaction. I assumed you were used to this kind of thing being married to a mob boss, but I’m not as familiar with the Irish Mafia and especially not the Canadian Irish Mafia.”

I choke on my juice, spraying Nikki in the face. “I’m sorry, the what?”

“You’re married, yes?” he says, wiping his eyes.

“Yes.”

“To Conor Fitzpatrick.”

“Uh…yeah,” I mumble in shame.

“Who is a notorious leader in the Irish Mafia…”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Conor is the mayor of—”

“Conor is in the Mafia, honey.” Nikki searches my face and must find truth in my ignorance. “Did you really not know?”

He sighs when I shake my head. “I believe you…but from here on out, you have to be completely transparent with me, okay?”

“Okay…”