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“We do. I lost years with my sister I’ll never get back. But if I think about all that shit, I’ll go crazy.” Nicky leaned forward and loosely linked his hands. “If this is about Simon and Ian—”
“No. Not directly anyway. Simon’s figuring out his way there. It’s going to take time for him, but he’s his brother and he’s going to have to live with that one way or another.” As Nicky started to speak, she held up a hand. “I know you hate the guy. I wasn’t a fan of him myself.”
“But now that he helped to have you kidnapped, you’re embracing him?”
“Hardly. I just have a different perspective after meeting his—their—mother. And after talking to Ian himself. If he’s lying about being filled with remorse, then I must have no bullshit-detecting skills at all. And I know that isn’t true.”
“He’s a con artist. Con artists are skilled at what they do. He may be running a com still.”
“If he is a con artist, he had little choice. He was dealt a rough hand. His mother compared him and Simon for years, and he never came out on the winning side. Then he was dragged into going after Simon. Not saying he wasn’t an idiot and didn’t make a ton of mistakes. But he was a boy. He’s barely more than that now.”
“I think impending motherhood has made you go soft.”
“Maybe. If I’m wrong, it’ll become apparent, won’t it? How many people are watching Ian like a hawk now? He won’t get to jaywalk without being caught. Besides, do you really think anyone is going to get through Simon’s wall of guards? Our house is going to be rigged like freaking Buckingham Palace.”
It made her sad to think of the place she already loved with that sweet swing turning into a fortress, but for now—until she and Simon made it all the way through to the other side of this—it was necessary. She couldn’t deny liking the idea of a few extra layers of protection between her and Mrs. Kagan, just in case. Even if she was locked away.
“True. I’m thinking Simon is going to add some guards disguised as session musicians when we go back on stage.”
“He’ll probably try.” She shifted toward Nicky and tried to hide her grimace. Yes, judging from her achy body, she needed another nap. Soon. “I haven’t discussed this with Simon yet, so I’m taking a leap. He’ll want this though, I’m almost sure. I should probably wait until we can do it together, but I don’t like waiting for anything anymore. For obvious reasons.”
“Spit it out, Kagan.”
Hearing him call her that made her smile. “Will you and Li be our baby’s godparents?”
Nicky blinked. Blinked again. “Well, duh.”
Her smile widened before she took a breath and pressed on. “This is the harder part. And might seem weird, but I have to ask. Just in case. I know you’d do it anyway—”
“Margo.”
“If anything ever happens to me, you’ll take care of Simon, right?” She didn’t expect her voice to give way. Not just break, but completely falter so that she had to clutch her blanket and haul in air to get it back. “I know you would, I know it, but please. Just promise me. You won’t let him be alone.”
Nicky didn’t answer so she finally gave in and looked at him. His eyes were red and he cleared his throat before he reached out to grip her hand. “Not while there’s breath in my body.”
She shut her eyes to hold in her tears as she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
“And same goes. If something happens to me, you’ll take care of Li. You promise.”
“I promise.” She made herself open her eyes and focus on his. “While there’s breath in my body.”
“So, it’s a deal.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a rough laugh. “Okay, I’m going to go now, before your husband comes in here and drags me out for upsetting his wife.” He rose and cupped her shoulders, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Even better than me, and that’s saying a lot.”
Margo laughed and pushed him away. A moment later, the door closed behind him.
The door opened again immediately and Simon poked his head inside. “Can I come in?”
She laughed again. He must’ve paid off everyone to get such open-ended visitation times. “Yes. I missed you.” She wiggled over in bed and whisked back the blanket and sheet. “Lower that guard and make room for yourself in here.”
He grinned for the first time since she’d been back. “Consider it done, Violin Girl.”
Twelve
“Let us out here, please.” I sounded as if I’d smoked five packs of Winstons a day for the past year.
Swallowing hurt. Speaking hurt.
I hurt.
