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Oh, God. My breath rushes from my lungs in a heaving gasp. My legs feel weak, unstable beneath me. I’m not sure how long I stand there, suspended between misery and terror. My hands are shaking so hard, they are all but useless to me as I stare into the mirror and try to gather my composure.
Nick will be wondering about me soon, if he isn’t already. With Rodney outside the restroom now, I have no idea what he might do and I don’t dare delay in here any longer. Forcing myself to calm, I run some cold water over a paper towel and press the coolness to my ashen cheeks and brow.
It helps a little. I look better, even if inside I’m nauseous with dread and worry. After a few moments, I finally emerge from the restroom and head back into the restaurant dining area. Nick is no longer on the phone, and I see that he’s paid our bill.
“Everything okay?” he asks as I approach our table. “You’ve been gone awhile.”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I shrug, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “There’s always a line for the ladies’ room.”
My non-answer seems to satisfy him, but I notice his shrewd gaze looking past me, as if his instincts alone are telling him something is off. I barely resist the urge to glance over my shoulder, especially when the hairs at the back of my neck begin to prickle.
I don’t know how I manage to sound calm when I am desperate to get out of the place. “Ready to go?”
Nick nods. “Sure. We can leave anytime.”
At that same moment, to my horror, I catch Rodney in my peripheral vision. He swaggers through the restaurant, walking almost directly past our table on his way out. As he heads for the front door, I hold my breath, praying he’ll keep going. Outside, he turns left on the sidewalk, finally disappearing from view.
I know Nick saw him, even if there is no reason for him to think anything of the man in the beer logo T-shirt and jeans who looks like any other patron in the place.
“Do you want me to take you back to the studio?”
“No.” I shake my head, forcing myself to snap out of my anxious distractedness. “I, um . . . I’m feeling kind of out of it. Maybe I had too much wine or something. Can we please just go home instead?”
“Of course.”
Nick wraps his arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the table.
As we get into his car at the curb, I’m relieved to see no trace of Rodney anywhere. But I know he’s watching. I know he’s waiting.
After today, I realize he’s been watching and waiting for a long time.
Since the day I pulled the trigger and shot his father.
Chapter 14
Rodney’s threat hangs over me, cold and dank and inescapable. I’m not sure how I make it through the weekend and into the next week with the dread of the situation pressing down on me like the dead weight of a corpse.
Like Martin Coyle’s bloodied, bullet-riddled corpse.
Ironic that I have him and the abuse I suffered at his hands to thank for my current ability to pretend everything is normal, no matter what I’m dealing with on the inside.
Being with Nick helps too.
He is my safe harbor, even if he doesn’t know how badly I need his shelter now. He’s so passionate and protective, so solid and strong, I can almost convince myself that none of the ugliness is happening. That Rodney doesn’t know anything about that awful day. That he’s not here in New York, making me afraid to leave the building for fear that I’ll run into him—with or without Nick beside me.
I can almost believe, for brief stretches of time, that Martin Coyle never e
xisted.
And that my mother isn’t serving a life sentence purely out of love for me.
Of all my secrets, shames, and sins, it is this one that’s been the hardest to bear.
“Where are you, baby?” Nick’s deep voice draws me back to him as we lie in a tangle together in bed on Tuesday morning. Propping himself on one elbow, he strokes my cheek, his touch infinitely gentle after a vigorous couple of hours of intense, mind-blowing sex. As tender as his touch is, his gaze is dark with concern. “Something’s been bothering you for days. What is it?”
I shake my head as I look up into his stormy blue eyes, hating that he can read me so well. Loving him for it too. Of all the people in my life, he’s the only one who understands me so intimately that he can gauge my emotions even when my self-protective walls are at their highest.
But I can’t let those walls down, not now.
