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A few weeks later
Shortly before lunch
Outside Dr. Holm’s office
Elliott Jones
Come on, already.
I stood up and started pacing the waiting room.
I needed to know if I’d fucked up the kid or not. Goddammit—I rubbed at the spot in my chest that’d given me grief all morning. It hurt like shit, but this was proof. Me as a parent? Laughable. We’d obviously let the boys stay with us until Mercier figured out the next move, and then I was gonna…miss them so fucking much.
“Baby, you gotta relax. You did nothing wrong.”
I shook my head. Joel could say that a hundred times more, and I wouldn’t believe him.
If it weren’t for me, Nicolas wouldn’t have suffered a panic attack so severe he’d almost passed out.
Nicky, I reminded myself. Become Instagram buddies with Crew, and he was suddenly the best thing since sliced bread. Nicolas wanted to be called Nicky.
I looked over at the little kids’ corner where Julian was playing with building blocks, and I ran a hand through my hair.
“I should’ve made sure we were alone.” I slumped down next to Joel again and scrubbed my hands over my face.
I’d just been so relieved when Mercier had called to confirm the deaths of so many Blancos, including Carillo and Gajero. I mean, we’d obviously known, but it was official and public now. The whole fucking cartel, just gone. Only Petrov remained, and he had four countries negotiating who’d get him extradited for crimes he’d committed.
Then I’d noticed Nicky entering the kitchen, and he’d asked what was going on.
I was the dumbass who’d actually answered.
“Those sorry excuses for men who hurt you and your brothers for so long are confirmed dead—their bosses too. That whole network of criminals is gone. They will never hurt anyone again.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been high on relief, nothing else. Because in my field…I didn’t know how many times you thought you’d gotten rid of somebody, and then you found out much later that they’d either survived somehow or—if they were really high-ranking motherfuckers—sent guards in their stead to act like them, to speak for them, tobethem. And in a world of coke-slinging billionaires who avoided getting caught on camera, it happened more often than most might expect.
It wouldn’t have been unheard of if Luca were really alive somewhere, in other words. Or his sons.
The only downside to their deaths was the current state of Colombia. Complete shitshow. Low-men and up-and-comers were fighting for power to fill the vacuum the Blancos had left behind. Hell, Vincente was one of them. He’d made the news last week after a politician had been murdered.
I blew out a breath and rose from my seat once more.
How long was Nicky gonna be in there for? I had to see him. I had to know if I could fix this.
I should’ve fucking known that such news would leave a mark. I should’ve known he’d been fearing more bad crap would happen—because he was so used to it. His mom dying, his dad being a piece of shit, getting fucking kidnapped…
I peered down the hall and pinched my lips together. I wasn’t gonna be the asshole who knocked on the head doctor’s door. Iwasn’t.
I swallowed, folded my arms over my chest, and turned back to Joel. “You reckon we should cancel tonight?”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “If anything, he’ll need tonight more than ever. You know what he responds well to after sessions and nightmares.”
He had a point. Nicolas thrived being around people, beingincluded. At least in some capacity. He did get mentally tired after a while. That was when he retreated to his and Mattie’s room to play video games. But until he reached that point, he wanted to have fun.
My God, had I fallen for our routines. My life was finally filled with, well,life.
For Blake’s birthday, we’d spent the whole day doing things she’d wanted. We’d gone rollerblading, we’d gone to the beach, we’d visited the zoo. And the boys—they’d never experienced that. Now, Nicky and Mattie liked to go with Joel for his run every morning, only the boys donned their new rollerblades.
