Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4 (13 page)

BOOK: Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4
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“Sean, man, been too long.”  The biker dude and Sean clasped hands in greeting before the man turned to her.  “And you must be Nicki,” he said in a voice that rumbled like a Harley and a grin that showed perfect white teeth.  “I’m - ”

“Kyle McCullough,” Nicki whispered, her eyes huge.

Kyle’s grin grew.  “Sean tells me you know something about bikes.  Says you built a custom that rivals a Ducati.  That true?”

She nodded mutely.  “Sick.  You’ll probably appreciate this then...”  Kyle led her over to where he was working on a new custom.  She looked to Sean, but he just smiled and waved her on.  Within a few minutes she’d regained her speech and was talking with Kyle like they had been friends forever.

“She’s awesome,” Lina said to Sean as she offered him a Coke.  The two of them stayed back, watching.  “She’s the one, huh?”

Sean nodded.  “Yeah.  I think so.”

Lina laughed at this.  “You think so?  Sean, if you could only see the way you look at her.  There’s no doubt.  Does she know yet?”

“No.”  He ran his hand through his hair.  “She’s going to fight it, I can feel it.”

Lina put her hand on his arm.  “That’s probably one of the reasons you find her so irresistible.  None of us like to do things the easy way, do we?  But don’t worry.  If she’s your
croie
she won’t be able to help but feel the same, even if it does take her a bit longer to realize it.”

Sean hoped she was right.

Chapter Ten
 

I
t was much easier working evenings with Nicki, especially since their trip to Birch Falls.  She even smiled occasionally.  The effect was nothing short of dazzling.  Lina had called to tell him that Kyle was impressed with her, and said he’d be willing to offer her an apprenticeship at Mo’s if she was interested.  That was a first, Lina confided.  Kyle had never done that for anyone, but Nicki had demonstrated a lot of raw, natural talent.

Sean hadn’t shared that with Nicki yet.  He would, when the time was right, but for now, he enjoyed having her all to himself.  It was just the two of them.  He didn’t have to worry about the other mechanics or a constant stream of customers.  The radio played in the background while they worked together in companionable silence.  He loved to be able to glance up and watch her whenever he wanted without having to limit himself.   

True to his word, he kept his distance.  Nicki showed no indication that she would ask him to do otherwise, which was expected, but disappointing all the same.  They spoke little. 

The tension was there, though.  He was certain that he could feel her eyes on him when she thought he wasn’t looking.  After so many years in Ops, he knew the feeling of being in someone’s sights all too well.  Too many times the little hairs on the back of his neck tingled, his mind cleared, and his adrenalin levels surged in preparation for fight or flight.  He knew it was Nicki and not a sniper because along with the tingles and adrenalin, his cock would swell and harden until it throbbed painfully.  Thank God
that
had never happened out in the field.

Despite that, though, being close to Nicki – at least in physical proximity – brought a peace to Sean that he didn’t quite understand.  Yes, he wanted a hell of a lot more – if he didn’t bury himself in her body soon he was quite sure several parts of him might spontaneously ignite and turn to ash - but being in the same physical space at the same time, listening to music, hearing her hum along occasionally, was comforting.  Seeing her, being close to her for those couple of hours each day, was something Sean looked forward to. 

––––––––

N
ick appeared one night, his face sober.  He came in from the softly falling snow, his black hair plastered over equally soaked clothes as if he had walked the whole way from his apartment, and stood just inside the door. 

“Nicki,” he said.  From the look on his face, it was fairly easy to guess what had happened.

Charlene Milligan had finally succumbed. 

Under Sean’s watchful eye, Nicki pulled herself from the car she was working on and met her brother at the door.  Nick quietly spoke a few words to her; Sean’s suspicions were confirmed.

She shook her head.  Nodded.  Shook again.  With a kiss to the top of her head, Nick left.  For several long moments, Nicki didn’t move.  Unable to stay away any longer, Sean crossed the distance between them. 

“I’m sorry, Nicki.” 

Nicki turned into him without a word, buried her face in his chest, and cried silently.  He held her, wishing he could do more, knowing he couldn’t.

“I have to go,” she said.

“I know.  Take all the time you need.  Anything you need, you let me know.”

She nodded and sniffed, mumbling her thanks before leaving.  It was all Sean could do to let her. She didn’t realize it yet, but she was his, and he was going to be there for her, even if that meant giving her the space he instinctively knew she needed.

––––––––

N
ick didn’t show up for work the next day, but Sean hadn’t expected him too.  He knew Nicki was busy making all of the necessary arrangements for their mother, and assumed that Nick would be with her. 

Around six o’clock Nicki showed up unexpectedly at the garage.  Sean was on his feet before she even stepped over the threshold.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, immediately regretting his words when he saw the hurt in her eyes.  She shielded it quickly, but not quickly enough.  Clearly she had misunderstood.  “I was just about to lock up, thought maybe we could pick up some take-out, have a quiet night.  If you’re up for it,” he added.

“Yeah?” she asked, turning those silvery eyes up to his, faded rims of red beneath the glossy black lashes.  Her hair was down, falling about her shoulders loosely.  Blatantly absent was any hint of the hard-ass biker chick he’d become accustomed to.  Faded Levis, black top with a couple of buttons open, jean jacket.  The little jewelry she wore was tame even by Catholic school standards, and the blush that played across her skin was natural.

“Yeah,” he said, putting the last of his files into one of the boxes on his desk and grabbing his jacket.  He set the codes on the security panel and turned out the lights.

“You like Chinese?” he asked, taking her small hand in his.  It felt cold; she made no attempt to pull away.

* * *

“C
hinese is good,” she answered quietly.

“Your place?”

She shook her head.  She didn’t want to go back there and face Nick.  She couldn’t.  She’d buried their mother today, and she’d done it alone.  Nick hadn’t bothered to show.  They may have had different opinions of Charlene, and Nicki could understand that.  What she didn’t get was how Nick could have bailed on
her
.  Charlene was dead.  It didn’t matter what he thought of her anymore.  But Nicki was still here.  And today she had needed her brother.

Sean tugged lightly on her hand, leading her to a set of concealed steps on the side of the garage office.  Another few punches of a cleverly hidden control panel and he was leading her upward.

She’d never really given much thought to what kind of place Sean would have, but if she had, she would have pictured this.  His apartment spanned the entire length and width of the garage below, an airy, open space.  It was sparsely furnished, but what was there was oversized and comfortable, the colors dark and rich.  A huge U-shaped couch faced one of the biggest flat-screens she’d ever seen, with a gigantic glass and black coffee table in the middle.  Beneath the wall-mounted screen was a bank of equipment that housed more electronics than the local Best Buy.  She recognized a Blue-Ray and a DVR; she couldn’t even begin to guess what some of the other stuff was.

Off the living room was a octagonal game table with raised seats all around.  Beyond that was a small kitchen of white tile and stainless steel, separated from the larger space by a half-wall and several bar-stool type seats.  Directly to their right was a bathroom that, judging from the little bit she could see, was almost as big as the living room of the apartment she shared with Nick.  And beyond that - a closed door that most likely led to his bedroom.  She tried not to think about that.

On the walls hung an eclectic mix of framed pictures in various shapes and sizes.  Nicki recognized Sean in quite a few of them, along with several other men of similar build and coloring that she guessed to be his brothers and father.  The photos spanned his lifetime, with some pictures clearly having been taken when he was no more than a boy.  The most recent looked like it had been at some kind of celebration – Sean with all of his brothers, their wives, and their children.  She even recognized Lina and Kyle.

It was a world as foreign to Nicki as outer space, but she took comfort in the fact that Sean was surrounded by people who loved him.  She’d only ever had Nick, and, as today had clearly proven, that was not always a sure thing.  But these people, they made a real family.  It was the way they looked at each other; in their smiles and in the love captured in time by a camera lens.  She was quite sure that when they lost one of their own they would be there for each other, and she was glad for that.  

Sean took her jacket and hung it on one of the dozen or so hooks just inside the door, then guided her over to one of the barstools while he pulled a stack of take-out menus from a drawer, placing them in front of her. 

“Whatever you want,” he told her, reaching down to extract a bottle from the small bar that must have been on the other side.  He poured a few fingers of a deep, amber liquid into two glasses while she made her selection, then called it in.

“Did, uh, Nick make it in today?” she asked as they settled in to await the food.

Sean frowned.  “No.  I assumed he was with you.” 

“No.”

“Ah, Nicki, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching over to pull her against him gently.  She offered no resistance.  She probably should have, but it just felt too damn good.  “You should have called me.  I stayed away because... ah, fuck, baby.  I’m sorry.  No one should go through that alone.” 

She sniffed a little, then nodded.  She would never have called him, but she appreciated the sentiment just the same.  And he was here now, holding her, lending her his warmth and strength.  It was more than she’d ever had before.

For whatever reason, she started telling him about the urn she had selected, the pretty one with the engraved roses.  Charlene had always loved roses; when Nicki and Nick were little and their mom was in one of her infrequent sober phases she talked about having a home someday where they could plant all kinds of rose bushes.

Nicki told him about the quaint little chapel and the nice, white-haired minister who had spoken a few words on her mother’s behalf.  Nicki had never been inside a church before; she had no idea if Charlene had ever belonged or even believed, but it had seemed like the right thing to do.

Sean listened, patiently, silently, doing little more than stroking her arm and holding her.  That was okay.  She didn’t want him to answer; she just needed someone to listen.

The food arrived.  They sat on the floor and ate.  They drank.  They talked.  About everything.  About nothing.  And when Nicki grew silent and her head rested against the sofa, her eyes closing as the exhaustion finally overtook her, she was vaguely aware of Sean gathering her into his arms and tucking her into his bed.

Then he kissed her lightly on the forehead and closed the door softly behind him. 

––––––––

N
icki could feel him watching her as she perched in the deep window sill, waiting for dawn to break over the horizon.  His gaze was unlike that of any she had ever known; it was a physical thing.  She could feel it even now, winding around her as plainly as if he had cocooned her against him. 

Each look had its own distinct feel, she was learning.  When he was angry, his eyes flashed, each one like a slap, followed by the sensation of a vice closing around you.  When he was playful, his eyes danced, giving her little tickling caresses across her skin.  And when he was sexually aroused, which seemed to be most of the time, she could vividly imagine his tongue laving its way over the most sensitive parts of her body while other, harder parts of him pressed against her, the taste of him from the single, searing kiss they’d shared bursting in her mouth. 

Not for the first time, she wondered if he had this effect on every woman he met, or if she was somehow special.  Nicki gave herself a mental shake.  She was turning into such a sap. 

Everything about him screamed alpha male, calling out to her female instincts at the most basic of levels.  So dark, so intense, and with a sexual pull stronger than gravity.  And she certainly wasn’t alone in this.  She would have to be blind not to notice the attention he drew from anything lacking a Y chromosome. 

He’s gorgeous.  And he’s probably had more women in his bed than I could count.
  Then another little voice said,
Funny.  He probably thinks the same thing about you.

Well, he wouldn’t be the first.

It wasn’t such a bad thing, really.  That assumption kept the nice ones away, and she had no use for the nice ones.  They always thought they could change her, “fix” her, as if she was some leaky faucet or squeaky door.  They meant well, most of them, but Nicki had no desire to be worked on.  Sadly, some things just couldn’t be fixed.  The best you could do was hope to cover up the damage and keep people far enough away that they wouldn’t notice all of the little cracks and defects that led to the total devastation within. 

It was remarkably easy to keep people at bay.  As long as they felt like they’d made an honest effort, they could rest easy at night, knowing that they had at least tried.  Then they’d leave her alone and she’d be fine until the next Good Samaritan came along. 

Sean Callaghan was proving to be a little more tenacious than most.  He kept coming back.  Did he want to fix her, too, she wondered?  Or did he just want to fuck her?

Probably the latter, her practical side said.  Men like Sean were used to getting what they wanted, no matter how sweet or attentive he was being at the moment.  Everything was a means to an end in his world; nothing was done without purpose.  They were very much alike in that respect.  She’d do just about anything to achieve her goals as well.

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