Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4 (8 page)

It took him a while to realize what she was talking about.  “Nicki?  Yeah, I was thinking about it, even brought it up as a possibility to Nick, see what he’d think.  If she’s really as good as Nick says, I’d be stupid not to.  But I don’t know, there’s a lot of testosterone in the garage.  I might have to kill one or more of my guys.  And I really don’t know if it’s a good idea to work with someone I’d like to get involved with.”

“Yeah.... Could be a problem.  Sean?”

“Yeah, Mags?”

“
Hurry
.”

He pressed the gas pedal to the floor and engaged all twelve cylinders of the sleek black Jag.  Sean whipped up to the Emergency Room entrance in a perfect horizontal slide to where Michael was waiting with his preferred team.  The door was opening before he even came to a complete stop. 

“How are we doing, sweetheart?” Michael asked, his calm, soothing voice at odds with the quick, efficient way he moved.  Incapable of answering, she looked at him with wide eyes, her knuckles white from where they gripped the seat. 

“There’s hardly any time between them now,” Sean said, his voice also holding the unshakable calm of his brother’s, though his body was tense, coiled.  “She didn’t tell me she was in labor, Mick,” he added on.

“Why am I not surprised?” Michael muttered.  As Maggie gasped for breath, he placed his hands gently along her belly.  “That’s a big one,” he said as another intense contraction ripped through her.  With his big body blocking her from view, he slipped his hand beneath the cotton dress she wore and gave a tight smile.  “You do like to test me, don’t you, baby?”

She clenched her teeth, stubbornly refusing to cry out against the pain that was ripping her apart from the inside.  “Wasn’t ... bad...  till... now.... Had... time.”

“Well, sweetheart, we’re out of time.  This baby is coming now, and I mean right now.  Look at me, Maggie, look at me.  Breathe.  Don’t push yet, no matter what, got it?”

She nodded, her face growing paler by the second as she fought against her body’s natural need to push.  Michael looked over his shoulder at the staff awaiting his orders.  “After this one, we get her into the first open room in the ER, got it?  We’re not going to make it up to OB....”

––––––––

S
ean paced the waiting room with the others, who’d been arriving non-stop as the news spread.  They’d already received word that Maggie delivered within minutes of arriving, a ten pound, six ounce strapping baby boy, and were anxiously awaiting further information.  They had yet to speak with Michael; he insisted that both Maggie and the baby undergo thorough examinations afterward under his watchful eye, and was unwilling to compromise in the slightest. 

A somewhat harried looking nurse came in finally and told them that Maggie and the baby were relocated to the sixth floor maternity ward and would be able to have visitors shortly.  The relief on the nurse’s face was apparent. 

Within the hour they were fighting back their grins as they neared the room en masse.  Maggie’s voice was clearly audible in the hallway.

“But why not?” Maggie was saying, exhaustion coloring her voice.  “I’m fine, the baby’s fine.”

“Maggie,” Michael said patiently, “it’s just one night, just as a precaution.”

“It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is,” she answered.

“This from the woman who almost gave birth in a car because she was too damn stubborn to get to the hospital like a reasonable woman.”

“It’s a natural process, Michael.  Women were giving birth for thousands of years before modern medical centers.  It wasn’t uncommon for women to give birth in the fields and get right back to work.”

“You don’t work in the fields, Maggie.  And this is not the Middle Ages.” 

“We’ve been here nearly
three hours
already.  Please, Michael, take us home.”

Maggie’s total and complete dislike of hospitals and the medical community in general – her husband excluded – was well-known, so it surprised no one.  Several of them chuckled silently, though all were wise enough to wipe the grins off their faces the moment they caught a glimpse of Michael warning them to not, under any circumstances, encourage her.

Michael smiled proudly as they entered, effectively silencing any more pleas from Maggie, at least for a little while.  “Come, and see our son.”

One by one they took turns admiring the latest family addition.  With a shock of black hair and intense blue eyes barely visible thru his half-open lids there was no doubt as to which side of the family he took after. 

“Jesus, Mick, he looks just like you.”

“He’s a Callaghan, no doubt,” said Taryn, with a mischievous glint in her eye.  “But really, if you’re going by looks alone, it could be any one of you.”

That drew a chorus of laughs.  Taryn knew every bit as much as she did that the bond between a Callaghan and his
croie
was unbreakable.  “It must be Michael’s,” Maggie teased, “because he’s definitely taking after his father.  All the nurses are already falling all over him.  They just can’t seem to keep their hands off him.”  Her eyes twinkled fiercely.  “I just might need to take someone out soon if it continues.”

“I’ve got your back, sister,” Taryn winked.  Michael shot her a look, but nothing could diminish the look of pure joy on his face.

A
good hour later, Sean made his way down to the lobby, the grin still on his face.  Maggie had let each of them hold the baby; he still couldn’t get over how small the boy had been in his large hands, even though everyone insisted that a ten-and-a-half pound baby was considered large.  Michael had boasted proudly that his son dwarfed the other newborns for the entire five minutes he was in the nursery before Maggie insisted he be returned to her side.

Sean chuckled again.  Maggie was quite possibly the sweetest, most open-hearted woman he knew, but she was ferocity personified when it came to protecting her family.  A slight twinge had him absently rubbing his chest.  Michael was a lucky son-of-a-bitch.

A casual glance toward the coffee shop had him doing a double take.  Nicki sat in a booth at the far end, head down, looking as if she was about to do a header into the cup of coffee that sat in front of her.  At least he thought it was Nicki. 

Sean’s steps slowed.  He instinctively kept out of her direct line of sight, but she never once looked over his way.  Yes, that was definitely Nicki.  He would recognize that delicate, feminine profile anywhere.  Every curve, every line was already etched in his memory.  His hands twitched and flexed, doing a little remembering of their own.

There was something decidedly different about her today, and it was more than just a lack of makeup and a sexy get-up.  She seemed more natural, more
real
.  Looking at her now, it was hard to envision the seductress that damn near brought him to his knees the night before.  It both confused and intrigued him.

Sean didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until he saw her head bob as if in agreement, saw her lips move in response to whomever sat across from her.  Why was she here?  Who was with her?  And why did she look so damn sad?

He should probably just keep walking, but something wouldn’t let him.  Not allowing himself to think too much about what he was doing, he followed his instincts and slipped into the gift shop, angling himself slightly behind the large display of magazines and paperbacks available for purchase.  From this vantage point, he could catch occasional glimpses of Nicki, but she would be hard pressed to spot him.

It only took a moment or so for Sean to recognize Nick’s voice as well.  Hushed and low, it carried easily once he zeroed in and concentrated on them and them alone.  It was a skill that had served him well in the field. 

Sean felt only a momentary flash of conscience for eavesdropping, but the strong warning in his gut overrode it.  There was something going on with those two, and Sean had a lot more questions than answers.  He silently justified his actions by reasoning that if he didn’t know what the problem was, he couldn’t help fix it.  Nick was his top mechanic, and Nicki was – well, he didn’t really know what she was yet – but he figured that if he could help, he would.

* * *

“Y
ou’re too fucking soft,” Nick said harshly.  “That’s why you always get hurt.” 

Nicki hung her head.  What could she say to that?  Nick was right.  

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he continued.  “Why do you even care?”

Nicki ripped pieces from the paper napkin, rolling them into little balls with her fingers and letting them drop onto the table.  A cinnamon roll sat untouched off to the side.  Nick pointed to it.  Nicki nodded and pushed it toward him.  Seeing her mother unconscious and hooked up to all of those tubes and machines eliminated any appetite she might have had.

“The same reason you do,” she answered.  "Because she’s our mother.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Nicki,” Nick said coldly.  “That woman could go straight to Hell for all I care and I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.  She was never a mother to me.  To either of us.  But especially not to you.” 

He ran his hand through his already disheveled hair.  Hanging loose, it was almost as long as hers.  “Christ, Nicki, how can you even look at her after what she did?”

“Shove it up your ass, Nick.  You’re the one that fucking texted me, remember?”

“Yeah, because I thought you should know.  Because I knew you’d be pissed if you found out I knew and didn’t tell you. 
Not
because I wanted you to do anything about it.  She doesn’t deserve it.”

“You want me to go?  Fine.  I’m outta here.”  She’d had just about enough of people trying to push her into the shadows, tell her what she could and could not do.  Nicki grabbed her bag and made to get out of the booth, but Nick’s arm reached out and grabbed her. 

“You know I didn’t mean that.  Christ, you make me fucking nuts!”  He blew out a heavy breath.  “I’m not ready for you to leave yet, Nicki.  Please.”

Nicki slid back into place, her head lowered as she took another sip of her coffee.  Silence stretched between them for one minute, then two. 

“Did she even recognize you?” Nick said softly.  “Does she even know who you are?”

“Does it matter?” she asked quietly. 

“What matters to me is
you
, Nicki.  Goddammit, I can’t stand to see your heart ripped out every time that woman fucks up and you think you can save her.  When are you going to realize she doesn’t want to be saved?  Maybe she wants to die.  God knows she’s been trying hard enough to make it happen.”

How many times had she been through this?  How many times had Charlene sworn she was going to clean herself up and do better?  Nicki hadn’t seen her in years, but she’d made sure that Charlene had a decent place to live, that her bills were paid off when Charlene didn’t have enough.

Nick didn’t know that, though.  Neither did Charlene.  No one did, nor could they.

Despite her best efforts, a single tear fell onto the table, absorbed by the little paper spheres.

“Ah, fuck, Nicki.  Don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” she said, wiping at her eyes but not looking up.  “I just have to.  I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I just want her to know she’s not alone.”

Nick sighed heavily.  “Yeah, I know.  Do what you gotta do.”  Nick slid out of the booth and gave his sister a quick kiss on the top of the head.  “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid like blow town again without saying goodbye, yeah?”

She nodded wearily, but her eyes didn’t meet his.

“Alright.  I’ve got a few things to finish up at the garage.  Why don’t you head back and crash for a bit?  Christ, you look beat.”

“You’re working today?  It’s Saturday.”

“I know, but I promised Sean I’d have this Escalade done for pickup first thing Monday.  Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.  I’ll be home well before your shift.  Hey, we’ll get a pizza tonight, yeah?  Anything you want on it.”

Nicki sniffed and nodded.  She
should
be working tonight.  Saturday was undoubtedly the best night of the week.  Men were ramped up in weekend mode with a full day remaining for recuperation before having to face the grind once again.  It was when she made her biggest tips, and had the greatest chance of getting the information she needed.  And what would she be doing?  Hanging out in her brother’s apartment, scamming his clothes while she scarfed down take-out and watched crappy movies on cable.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she’d been benched yet, though.  That would only bring up questions and she’d have to explain what happened, and she just wasn’t ready to do that.  Nick would hear about it soon enough.

* * *

E
ven from the gift shop Sean could see the pain in Nicki’s eyes, feel her hurt, making his own gut twist in the process.

Should he?  Probably not.  But damn, she looked so lost, so
fragile
.  Maybe it was all the warm and fuzzy still flowing through him from his visit upstairs, but there was no way he could
not
go to her.  Before he even realized it, his feet were carrying him in her direction.

“Nicki.”  He said her name softly, afraid to startle her.  She looked up, surprised, and he caught his breath.  For just a moment, she looked so young.  Her crystalline eyes were wide, her expression unguarded.  There was none of the heavy make-up she’d been wearing last time he’d seen her; her hair hung in soft waves, layered and uneven around her face.  Even the faded Levi’s, Reeboks, and hoodie made her look more like a young woman than the sexy vixen that had straddled his lap the night before. 

It didn’t last long.  As soon as she registered who it was who had spoken her name, her face hardened into the scowl he knew so well, and she matured before his eyes.

“What do you want?” she practically hissed. 

“May I sit down?”

She looked as if she’d rather have a root canal.  “It’s a free country.  I was just leaving anyway.”

“Please,” he said as he slid into the seat across from her.  “Don’t go just yet.”  His long legs extended under the table.  In was a deliberate move on his part; she’d have to crawl over them to extract herself.  She exhaled heavily, but remained where she was.  He decided to count that as a small victory.