Tidal Falls (Wounded Hearts Book 1) (12 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Tom
sat in the dark car feeling like a common criminal, staking out Nirvana, the art gallery of his wife’s best friend. His half open window let in all the nighttime sounds of the city. Far away sirens screamed, counterbalanced by laughter, music, and the never-ending roar of traffic.

“Don’t be
ridiculous, there’s nothing common about me.” He giggled, then glanced around to make sure no one heard him talking to himself. It should have clicked much sooner. If he had not left it up to idiots to do the searching, it probably would have. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before and would have to thank Sam when he caught up to him. And he would catch up to him, it was only a matter of time.

He was becoming
more and more certain that Willets had led the rest of Tom’s men on a wild goose chase with that tip about New Mexico. He didn’t know why, but he was sure as hell going to find out.

Sam
had given him one useful bit of information though. He’d said, “You know how women are, get their feelings hurt and they run to their friends. That’s probably where she is now.”

G
ood point, Samuel. Very good.

So now here he sat.
One quick call to that dealership confirmed what he’d already guessed. The car Sara had traded in was registered to a Karl Radcliffe, the lovely Fiona’s little brother. It had only taken a short little heart-to-heart chat with him to find out Fiona had
borrowed
the jeep, but never returned it. Instead she’d bought him a fancy new Mustang.

After taking care of
Karl he’d driven across town to the Nirvana gallery, and now he waited, fingers drumming the steering wheel, for the place to close. Socialites wandered the floors, fake smiles on their overpainted faces, glasses of bubbly in their manicured hands, the silks and satins of their dresses forming an ever-evolving rainbow of color. The rich cadence of classical music filtered through the partially opened door, probably left that way to allow fresh air into a room overwhelmed with the scent of a hundred different fragrances.

He’d
once been a part of that boring crowd, though he’d never asked to be. There was more to life than who was screwing whom, or who’d lost a bundle in the stock market last week. He’d never had time for all that annoying drivel. And then came Sara.

One look into those topaz eyes and he’d fallen hard. S
he was different, a rare and unique butterfly amid all the moths of Boston’s high society.

They’d gone
to Fiji, gotten married, and spent their honeymoon screwing like bunnies. On their return he’d brought her home to Balmoral, ready to show her off in his world. Tom tried, he really had, to refine her and teach her the demands of her new life. He bought her a complete wardrobe of acceptable clothes, got her to quit with the painting, and made sure his staff knew calls from her old friends were not welcome. Then one day, Sara came to him with news of her pregnancy, and what for her caused tears of joy, for him caused a deep ball of choking dread.

His ow
n childhood had taught him children were only good for one thing, carrying on the linage. He wanted his to end with him. Raised by a succession of nannies with only a vague memory of his father, mommy dearest was much too busy running the family’s shipping company to have time for a lost little boy. Just as well, her rule was children were not to be seen nor heard. She’d taken great pleasure in meting out punishment using a thin leather belt on him for breaking the ordinance.

He could
still see it coming at him sometimes in his dreams, a leathery black snake, unwinding at her urging, from talon-like fingers. It slithered and snapped as it flew across the room, catching him across the back when he turned to run and hide. Repeatedly, it bit into his neck and arms as he cowered into a ball in the corner, crying out he was sorry, though not sure what it was he’d done.

No, he hadn’
t wanted children, and even when Sara presented him with the squalling little red bundle in the hospital, Tom had felt nothing but anxiety, a bone deep urge to run the other way. Though he knew Sara was disappointed, he quit spending time at Balmoral. He hired a nanny, and then tried to make it up to Sara by taking her out to different functions, buying her nice things. None of it helped. He felt them sliding away from each other. Angry and frustrated, he drank, and when his darling wife turned him away at night, he slept with Belinda, the new nanny.

D
uring this time, with his personal life a mess, Tom received a commendation to the U.S Attorney’s office and the case that would change the course of his life. Ramos Guerra, a Mexican rebel leader with the Sinaloa Cartel, charged with the sale of heroin to some undercover feds. And drugs were only the tip of the iceberg for Ramos.

Under too much
stress, his company floundering, Tom saw an opportunity to reinvest in the black market he had begun while overseas, and managed to get the charges dropped. Guerra, returning the favor, told him about a sweet deal on a shipment of cocaine Tom knew his contacts
in Iraq would willingly pay to acquire.

Their partnership
worked out well for both of them. Tom had a steady supply of weapons from his pals overseas, and with his cargo ships the means to purvey them. Ramos needed the weaponry for the ever-expanding war between the Sinaloa Cartel and their enemies, Los Zetas. The Mexicans loved their guns, and the drug trade in the Middle East was still going strong. The Sinaloa Cartel had a strong foothold in Chicago's drug and prostitution rings and Tom, through his connection with Guerra and the Iraqis, used his cargo ships for ferrying between the two countries.

It was surprisingly easy to keep his activi
ties discreet; his job gave him the perfect cover. He began to look towards the governor’s chair, his thirst to become the best, the most powerful, coming from the dark place inside of him that begged for his mother’s approval, even though she was now long gone.

Thinking back, Tom
realized he should have known everything was going unrealistically smooth. Instead, he’d taken the money and run with it. What an idiot. Then came the day of reckoning. The day he found out how little of his life he actually had control over. That same day he learned of his wife’s duplicity. He could still hear her crying her innocence, but he’d known, from the lingering excitement in her eyes and the glow on her cheeks, she’d betrayed him. She probably thought he’d left her alone after her lesson because of guilt, when the reality was much more basic than that. Sara had fallen off the pedestal Tom had placed her on. He’d thought her perfect, so to find out she was a deceitful woman, like all women, he lost all sexual interest.

H
e might have let her leave, if she hadn’t overheard him talking to Guerra. After that there was no turning back. She was a danger to everything he wanted to accomplish. He’d been working on a plan to have her quietly disappear when she copied his files and ran, taking her daughter with her.

The rumbling clap of thunder in the distance had him peering out the window at the gloomy, billowing clouds marching over the tops of the nearby buildings. Between flashes of forked lightning, he observed the steady flow of people as they hurried to exit Nirvana, before the softly falling tears could become a torrent, soaking their expensive finery.

Opening the door to his Lexus coupe, Tom silently slipped through the stream of humanity and entered the now nearly silent building. His senses were bombarded by a bouquet of leftover wines, the still faint scent of paint, cologne, and the musty smell of moistened dust coming through the still open door.

The tinkling of fine crystal in the back room le
t him know where his quarry was. Perfect. He double-checked to make sure they were alone, carefully latched the door, and dropped the shades to seal themselves in before making his way to her office. There she sat, her back towards him as she ran the numbers from tonight’s little soiree. Careless of her.

Fiona Radcliffe—the bitch—
with her fiery red hair and pixie-like frame, had managed to be a thorn in his side for far too long now. If not for her, his Sara would never have wandered. Ms. Radcliffe was going to wish for a set of those fairy wings before tonight was over.

“Hi honey, I’m home.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sara awoke to the raspy glide of Nick’s tongue stroking her breast where the navy blue cotton sheet had fallen away. The warmth of his solid body lying alongside hers, filled her with happiness and contentment. He’d taught her so much about her own sensuality. She’d had no idea her toes or the backs of her knees were erogenous zones. Returning the favor, she’d soon had him moaning, nibbling her way from his ear all the way south.

E
rotic thoughts from earlier blended with what he was doing to her now and had her squirming as she came fully awake. Lifting her head slightly off the pillow, she became a voyeur to her own pleasure as Nick’s dark hand worked one rosy nipple, while he nipped and fondled the other.

When he noticed her attention on him,
a sly grin split his face before he focused on inching his way down her body, tasting every bit of silky skin along the way. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth when Nick grasped her hand in his and brought it along on an exploration of her smooth flesh. As their combined fingers swept away years of repressed urges, Sara let go of any embarrassment as Nick proved to her that her body was gloriously made for this, and pleasure was meant to be given as well as received.

A
laugh escaped, freeing the last vestiges of darkness from her soul as Nick turned onto his back and lifted her above him. She gazed into his precious face and let herself sink onto his stiffened cock, gasping at their connection.

“I hope you’re n
ot laughing at my technique darlin’, my ego is frail you know.” He panted as they both let out a gratified groan.

“Your ego is as massive as…other
things.” Sara smirked, leaning over to kiss his bristly jaw just as she tightened her inner core, causing Nick to swear as he pumped into her.

“Do that
again,” he gasped, “and they’re both going to be deflated.”

***

Her flushed face and whiskey colored eyes filled with passion and laughter directed towards him was the biggest turn on Nick ever had. Her beautiful breasts, limned by the light peeking through the gap in her bedroom blinds, bounced in synchronicity with the motion of their bodies. Her skin glowed dusky pink with a fine sheen of sweat, and as he gazed down at their joined bodies all he could think was, Mine. He wanted—needed—to stake his claim on her. One that couldn’t be denied.

A Child.

Holy shit. He realized what was different. No protection.

“Ah
…sweetheart, God, we need to stop this. Sara, no con…dom,” Nick croaked, his eyes almost crossing as she did that twist and tighten thing that about drove him wild.

“It’s okay,
I’m on the pill. Are you okay…with that?” Sara panted, close to the edge now.

“Hoo
-yah, babe, better than okay.” He looked into her glazed eyes, “Come on honey, let go for me. I’ve got you.” Stretching between them, he lightly brushed her core back and forth a couple times. Her whole frame tensed. She dropped her head to his chest, and sucked back a cry as she came, in turn triggering his own massive release. Hooyah.

They
lay boneless together for a while, then arose and climbed into a long-drawn-out shower spent scrubbing each other’s one hundred and one parts. Afterward, reality intruded and they sat at the kitchen table, the purloined file open on the laptop in front of them. She’d been right. Tom was into some heavy shit with several very powerful men. Reading down the list of names and dates was like checking back issues of front-page news stories. It contained everything from the ongoing trouble south of the border, to the escalated drug and trafficking trade right here in the U.S.

This file could shut down a major
corridor between their country and overseas black market avenues. “Wow, honey, you weren’t kidding, this is big.” He turned away from the computer and looked at her sitting beside him, lost in that old bathrobe of hers. She resembled a turtle sinking into its shell. As if seeing that file open on the table had made her shrink into her own skin.

“I want it
to stop, Nick. I only took those reports in case I needed to use them as leverage against him.” She whispered, and the pain in her tone broke his heart. “I had to make him stop. Instead, now he won’t leave us alone.”

Feeling like an ass for not noticing how upset she’d
become while he’d been pouring over the information, Nick hastened to assure her. “I know, sweetheart, I know. It’s going to be fine, don’t worry. I called some friends for help. These are good people, Sara. They’ll be able to figure out the next steps to keep you and Jess safe, okay? Trust me, it really will be all right.” He leaned over to give her a lingering kiss, pleased with her immediate response.

“
Listen, honey, why don’t you lay down and have a rest? You didn’t get much sleep last night.” Thinking about all the reasons why, had him hardening all over again. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of gazing at her beautiful eyes opening next to his on their pillow every morning. A thousand conflicting emotions inside fought to escape. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

I’m in love
.

He wanted to slay all her dragons. He wanted to lock her and Jessica away somewhere safe where nothing could ever take them away from him. He wanted to give them anything they could ever wish for. His chest swelled until it was almost painful.
It’d be over his dead body before her ex came anywhere near her or Jessica ever again.

“Mm-hmm, I am a little worn out,” she murmured, setting her chair back and rising before leaning over to give him a warm hug. His throat closed, trapping all the emotions racing around his chest. His arms tightened their hold, and he buried his face in her
soft bosom. When she pulled away, even though it’d been his idea, he felt the loss.

Nick
watched until she was out of sight, and then turned back to the computer with renewed resolve. He needed to find the key to snap this ring. A bio on the asshole would be a good place to start. With that in mind he opened up a search on Sara Reed and didn’t have long to wait for the results to come pouring in.

She’d married a shipping magnate who was a
U.S Attorney, currently running for governor. Was there anything the prick wasn’t into? He ran down the list and noticing an interview in a society column, hit the link. A grainy picture popped up and when Nick enlarged it, he fell back in his chair.

Well, son-of-a-bitch.
Tom Sheridan.

Sara’s no-g
ood ex happened to be the very same American they were assigned to protect. The American from the bar in Iraq. Crazy. No wonder Tom had been so chummy with those sketchy men, all those years ago. So he’d been doing this for quite some time. Making a fortune on the backs of innocent victim’s like that poor girl Nick had tried to help.

It made him furious, but it also scared him to deat
h. These people knew Sara had this file. He no doubt had a whole army of men out searching for her. It made Nick doubly glad he had made that call to Frank yesterday. They should be arriving sometime tonight, and not a moment too soon, according to this. The deeper into the files they’d gone, the more they became aware of how far her husband’s duplicity ran. She’d tweaked the monster’s tail by getting away from him. He hoped they could find a way to slay it.

After her nap t
hey spent what was left of the afternoon talking and making out on Sara’s comfortable old chintz sofa, knowing that after today it would be a lot harder to find any alone time, at least until a resolution was found.

They
both decided Jessica would be better off staying with the Campbell’s for now, so Sara set the phone on speaker and called over to the craft store. After ascertaining the kids were getting along and not causing trouble she asked Annie if her offer still stood.

“Are you kidding me?
I would love to take care of the munchkin. She keeps Chris from boredom. Do you and that handsome man of yours have something special planned?”

He only wished. It’d be great if the only thing they had to think about was plans for a romantic evening together. He’d love to take her out, his choice this time.
Maybe a moonlit drive through the countryside. Find a nice private spot for a picnic and stargazing. Love-making. Hooyah.

“Oh Annie, I’m no
t even sure where to start. I’ll try to explain everything when I come for Jess tomorrow. Better put a big pot of coffee on. It’ll take a while.” Sara sighed.

S
he’d just hung up the phone when a sledgehammer like pounding began at the door. Jake jumped to his feet, barking up a storm. Sara recoiled before running to the replica Quaker style end table, and opening the drawer, pulled out the can of mace.

That won’t stop a bullet, my love.

Shushing the dog with a quick upward hand motion, he waved Sara back to the kitchen, which she of course ignored, then moved to check the viewer in the door. Relief swamped him when he saw who was putting up the hullabaloo on the other side. Rushing to flip the locks, he swung the door wide, and only had time for a quick salute before Jared grabbed him up off his feet in a bruiser of a bear hug.

“Nick. Good to see you buddy. I
t’s been way too long. I was wondering what the hell you’ve been up to all these years. Now I see you went and got yourself a little woman. Shit man, you’ve put on some pounds, too.” Jared laughed as he set Nick back down and pretended to hold his back in pain.

Nick grinned
so hard he felt his jaw pop. “Hey Jare, I hear you have been up to the same old, same old. Great to see you too, bro.”

Turning back to the door
, Nick took in the chief. He knew as he gazed into the proud man’s eyes that Frank still, even after all this time, held himself responsible for Adam getting shot and killed.

Giving his mentor a
sharp salute, Nick held out his hand and Frank latched on, hauling him into a tight clinch.

“I’ve missed you, s
ir. It’s been too God-damned long.” His throat closed, filled with hot emotion. These men were his family. How had they let themselves drift apart for so long?

“Nickolaus…
ah man, I’m so sorry. Every damn day it sits there in my guts. I know how close to Adam you were. I wish…”

T
he Chief would have taken those bullets himself if he could have. Nick never once blamed the man for what went down. It tore him apart that Frank had been castigating himself all these years. He should have kept in touch. Some friend.

“There was nothing you could have done
, sir. We all knew when we signed up that there was a chance that some of us would go home in body bags. It’s the way it is.”

“That it is, I should have made an effort to track you down when I got out. Things happen, time passes, and before
you know it here we all are, five fucking years later.” As his gaze moved past Nick’s shoulder, he bowed his head slightly. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, been out on the range with only the cows for company for too long, I guess.”

***

Three different sets of eyes zeroed in on her, and Sara’s cheeks warmed. Holy testosterone, she felt like a midget at a Globetrotters game. These men were huge.

Nick had described his c
hief to her as larger than life. He hadn’t been kidding. The Man filled her doorway with his shoulders, and had to duck as he entered the house, instantly dwarfing the entry. She liked his craggy, lived in face, tanned a deep red, no doubt from the hot Texas sun. Coffee colored hair hung slightly shaggy around his ears, highlighting silver eyes. Those eyes had seen too much of the wretched side of life. They made Sara wish that she had a sketchbook handy; she wanted to catch all the little nuances she could see in them, stunning.

Nick’s friend Jared was lean and lanky, with sandy blonde hair and multiple tattoos marching up and down his arms. Between the beat up leather coat swinging by a finger over his shoulder and the fading bruis
es on his face, he reminded her of a biker. Nick had depicted Jared as an easygoing, brilliant man, but after seeing him in person, she sensed there was a lot hidden inside his good-old-boy vibe.

“Sara
, honey, come and meet two of the best guys you could ever have on your side. Chief, Jare, this is Sara. She and her little girl need your help; she’s up to her beautiful neck in some heavy shit.”

These men looked what they were, fully capable of creating some major chaos on those that crossed them and theirs. As she went about the business of making enough food to fill an army, the men sat at the table with big mugs of strong black coffee, looking over that ugly file and strategizing their next move. She placed a plate piled high with the roast beef she had started earlier in the day, a mountain of mashed potatoes with a bowl of thick, rich gravy, and the requisite green vegetable, beans, on the table in front of them.

Nick caught her hand as she pulled back, and turning it over, kissed the inside of her wrist as he gazed up into her eyes.
The sudden flare of awareness between them spiked her blood and if it were not for Jared’s smart aleck voice reminding her of their company, she knew Nick would have liked nothing more than to lay her out on the table as his own personal banquet.