Until Series: Box set (114 page)

“I don’t know if I can. Why is he doing this now when before he couldn’t care less?”

“He had someone checking on you while you were in Seattle.”

“What?” I breathe. I look into his eyes, and he nods then shakes his head.

“He told me he had someone checking in on you, making sure you were okay, but then one day, you were just gone and he didn’t know what happened to you.”

“Okay… I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I think he was doing it so he had peace of mind. When I met your dad and he talked about what happened to you, I could see how guilty he feels. He feels responsible for what happened to you, but he also feels guilty for your mother’s death.”

“He told you that?” I look at him, wide-eyed.

“He didn’t have to. That’s why I think it would be good if you talked to him.”

“Can I send a letter or something first? I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to him on the phone yet.”

“You can do it however you need to,” he says, kissing my forehead before pulling me into his chest. I’m not sure I’m ready to face my past, but I know that, as long as I have this man with me, I will be okay. I also know that, deep down, he is right; I need to face my past so I can move on to a future with Nico.

Nico

I
look out
the window of the nursery and rub my hands over my face. For the first time since I started doing what I do, I feel out of control. I got in early from a job today and went to meet Sophie for lunch. When I got out of my car to head into the building, I noticed a paper under her wiper blade. At first, I didn’t think much about it. I wasn’t even going to look at it until something in my gut told me to turn around and grab it. As soon as I opened the letter, my stomach dropped.

After you have his baby, you’re mine. I haven’t forgotten about you.

The words were typed out on simple white copy paper. They were enough to send me into a rage and bring me to my knees all at once. I have no idea who had attacked her. I don’t know how safe she is working at the school anymore. She already had to have someone stay with her when I was out of town for work. She hates feeling like she needs to be on guard. I have no idea what to do. I don’t want her any more stressed out than she already is. Dealing with the situation with her dad already has her up late at night worrying. I don’t want that for her, and I don’t want that for my child. The fact she is now showing in her pregnancy is starting to freak me out. Not the showing part, but the part where she is very obviously carrying my child, there is someone after her, and they have been around her to know that she is pregnant.

“What are you doing in here?”

I turn to look at her as she enters the room we chose for the nursery. She’s so fucking beautiful that I have to ask myself, Why me? How did I get so lucky? Today, she has on a high-waisted skirt that ends right under her tits, and the fit of the skirt shows off her very rounded stomach and ends right above her knees. At only three and a half months, you would think she is farther along than she is with how large she is already. We still don’t know what we’re having. People have already been making bets, so we’ve decided to keep it a surprise for D-day, as Asher always calls delivery day.

“Baby, you know you’re not supposed to be wearing those shoes.” I shake my head as I watch her heels move across the carpet.

“These are not even that high,” she defends, doing a one-leg lift to show off one of the shoes. They are tall. They bring her forehead up to my mouth. When she’s barefooted, it reaches my chest. These are all lace with a long, wide heel. “Besides, I think this is the last day of heels for me until the baby gets here anyways.” She pouts then places one hand on my chest, lifting her foot behind her to slip off her shoe before doing the same with the other, causing her to shrink in height.

“What’s wrong?” I rub her belly, loving the look of pregnancy on her. The first day I came in and saw her naked with the small bump that had formed overnight, I freaked, realizing that it’s real. She really has my baby inside her.

“My feet are swelling today.” She wraps her arms around my waist before laying her head on my chest.

“No more heels. They’re not safe.” This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. Talking to Sophie is like talking to a wall—I tell her one thing and she agrees then does whatever the hell she wants.

“I’ve been wearing heels forever. I’m probably safer in heels than sneakers.” She laughs, hugging me.

I hold her a little tighter, putting my lips to the top of her head. Our problems are a lot bigger than her wearing heels though. I hate not knowing who I’m after. With my job, there is always a suspect. I always know exactly who I’m looking for and what they are capable of. This situation is out of my hands, and that scares the shit out of me.

“We gotta talk, Sophie.”

“You’re using my name, so that tells me it’s something I won’t want to talk about.” She sighs.

“Sorry, baby, but we gotta.” I lead her out of the nursery and into the kitchen, where I carefully put her up on the counter. “You hungry?”

“No, and you’re the one who wanted to talk, so why are you avoiding it now?” She watches me as I go to the freezer, pulling out a pizza before turning on the oven.

“I found a note on your car today when I came to meet you for lunch.” I go about taking the pizza out of the box before putting it on a pan.

“What kind of note?”

“Fuck.” I run my hand over my head. “I don’t want to tell you about this. If there was a way to keep this from you while keeping you safe, I would.”

“You’re scaring me,” she states, looking at my fist clenching and unclenching at my side.

“I don’t want you to be scared. That’s the last thing I want, but I would rather you be afraid and cautious than you not know what’s going on, not pay attention to your surroundings, and then have something happen to you because you didn’t know you were in danger.”

“Tell me,” she prompts.

I walk back to her, fitting myself between her legs. I pull the copied note out of my back pocket to show her. I handed the original off to Kenton to take to Leo. I also checked with the school to see if they had any cameras on the premises, but they didn’t have any. I still have no leads. The note has no prints besides mine from grabbing it from the windshield. I watch as Sophie reads the words and her face goes pale, and I see the worry etched in her eyes when they meet mine again.

“Who’s doing this?” she asks, one hand covering her stomach, the other covering her mouth as tears begin to fill her eyes.

“I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that same question a million times and keep coming up with nothing.”

“I don’t know anyone here. I’ve always kept to myself,” she sobs, making me feel helpless.

“We’ll figure it out, baby. I just don’t know about you working at the school anymore. I don’t think it’s safe.” I hold her until her tears start to die down.

“I feel like I’m letting whoever’s doing this win by quitting, but I know I can’t work there and feel safe. I hope this ends soon. I don’t want to have the baby and be looking over my shoulder every time I leave the house.”

I wipe her face, kissing each of her eyelids before taking the note from her and putting it back in my pocket. “I hate this for you, but things are going to have to change until I find out who it is.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she says, and in those few words, I know how much faith she has in me. Her faith alone makes me want to fight that much harder to end this.

“From now on, when I’m out of town, you’re gonna stay with Mom and Dad, and tomorrow, we’re going to get you a gun and I’m gonna teach you how to shoot.” I put my mouth to her forehead, kissing her before looking into her eyes again.

“Do you really think it’s necessary?”

“Absolutely. I need to know you can take care of yourself. Your self-defense moves aren’t going to be as helpful when you’ve got a belly to contend with.”

“Do you really think I need to stay at your parents’?”

“Yes. The person has proven that he knows where you lived and now where you work. Who knows if he’s figured out that you now live here?”

“I hate this, but okay,” she agrees reluctantly.

I hate that she is being forced to change her life while whoever is doing this is out there living normally and probably getting off on her being afraid. But I’m stuck. I cant risk something happing to her.

I kiss her forehead again then try to make her forget about everything by turning off the oven and carrying her upstairs, where I make love to her until we both fall asleep.

*

“Aim to kill,
baby,” I tell Sophie as I wrap my arms around her and help her line up the shot. “I want you to take a deep breath, and when you let it out, I want you to squeeze the trigger, not pull it.”

“Got it,” she says shakily.

I listen as she takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Her hand steadies, and she lets off three rounds, one after another, all hitting near the center of the target. Her aim is nearly perfect for someone who has never even held a gun until today. I hit the button, bringing the target closer so she can she what she did.

“You’re a natural,” I tell her with pride etching my voice.

“Really?” she asks, setting the gun down before turning to me.

“Really. Look at what you did. All three of your rounds are near the center of the bull’s-eye.”

“This is kinda fun.” She laughs, and suddenly her eyes go wide and she grabs my hand, pulling it to her stomach.

“What?” I ask in a panic, and then I feel the slight movement under my palm. I immediately fall to my knees in front of her, both hands holding her stomach. “Holy shit,” I choke out, looking up into Sophie’s beautiful, glowing face then back down to where my tattooed hands are in stark contrast to her white maternity dress.

“I know,” she whispers, dragging my hands around her stomach so I can feel the baby moving. “The shooting must’ve woken her up.”

I nod then shake my head. I never thought this would be something I would experience. I look up at her again, seeing her beaming down at me. Her hair is braided back away from her makeup-free face, but little pieces have come loose and are flying around her in the wind.

“Can I shoot again?” she asks, making me laugh.

“I was having a moment…and you want to shoot?”

“Well, it was fun.”

I shake my head and kiss her belly once before standing. “All right. This time, I want you to aim at the head.”

“I can do that,” she says with confidence, giving me an instant hard-on.

She refused to get a gun at first…until she saw a white Ruger LCP .380 with pink flowers all over it. I almost refused to let her get it—no gun should have flowers on it—but I figured that, if she was carrying it and it could kill someone if she was in danger, I didn’t care what it looked like.

I press the button on the machine, sending the target back out. I put my arms around her again, this time resting on her belly. With every shot, she makes the baby move inside her, making her laugh and miss the target the first three times. I reload her gun, giving her advice on how to focus before sending a new target out with instructions that I want two in the head and three in the heart. This time, she focuses and hits her target with ease.

“You’re a pro.”

“Really?”

“Really, baby.” I kiss her temple. Knowing that she can shoot has some of my stress easing.

“Maybe when the baby gets here, I can work for you.”

“That’s never gonna happen.” I have a friend who works with his woman, but I can’t imagine having Sophie with me on a job. I wouldn’t be able to focus.

“I could be your backup.”

“Not happening,” I state.

“Aww, come on. You said I was a great shot. I could dress like a ninja. I would be like your secret weapon. People would be like, ‘Oh, we got Nico,’ and then I would show up and take them out,” she says, doing a strange-looking karate chop.

“As entertaining as that would be, it’s still not happening.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll give up my dream.” She sighs, making me laugh.

I take her hand and make our way out to my car. After I get her in the passenger’s seat, I jog around and hop behind the wheel.

“How you feeling?” I drive out of the parking lot before taking her hand in mine and pulling it to my mouth.

“Okay. Just tired.”

“I want you to ask the doctor if he has any suggestions for that.”

“Sleep.” She laughs.

“Very funny, smartass, I’m serious though.”

“I know you are.” I hear the humor in her voice, and it makes me smile.

“It’s the doctor’s job to answer questions,” I remind her.

“Yes, but when you call him at midnight to ask him if it’s normal for me to have heartburn, I think that may be overkill.”

“He told me to call if I had any questions. Besides, you ate a whole container of Tums in one night”—I look over at her—“like they were candy.”

“Don’t remind me. That was not one of my crowning moments.” She laughs. Then her voice goes quiet. “I can’t believe you won’t be here for my appointment.”