Ian’s face darkened. “How much do you know about her?”
Sean shrugged. “She’s very intelligent, very spirited. Great with engines like her brother. Worked in Vegas as a dancer six months before she came here.”
Ian’s frown deepened. That was never a good sign.
“Why?” Sean asked. “What did you find?”
Ian took a deep breath and exhaled. “I found a marriage license.”
Whatever Sean had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “She’s married?”
“Widowed.”
Something about the way Ian said it chilled Sean’s blood. “Just tell me, Ian.”
“Here. Check this out.” Ian pressed a few keys and sat back far enough so that Sean could clearly see the the two PDF documents Ian had brought up. One was a marriage license for Nicolette Milligan and Brian McMann. Sean looked at the date and did a quick mental calculation in his head. Nicki would have been just sixteen. The other was a death certificate for Brian McMann. Sean sucked in a breath when he saw the date. It was the same.
“What the fuck?” It was a miracle he managed to get even those words out.
“Official reports say McMann was shot execution style. General consensus was it had something to do with a local drug dealer, but no one could ever pin anything on him.”
“And Nicki?”
“Eye witness accounts say she left the scene in an ambulance that was subsequently involved in an accident. Nicki never made it to the hospital.”
“What happened to her?”
“Officially? She was never in the ambulance. She simply ceased to exist. No footprint anywhere in the system until she showed up in Vegas six months ago.”
People did not just fall off the grid for eight years and suddenly appear again, not without some help. Sean knew it. And so did Ian.
“What is she into, Ian?”
Ian shrugged. “That, I don’t know. Yet. But I will.”
*
Nicki sighed when she heard the knock at the door, the instant thrum in her body telling her exactly who it was. Frankly she was astonished it had taken him this long; she expected him hours ago. Quite honestly, she wouldn’t have been surprised to look behind her when she’d first brought Nick home and seen Sean standing right there, ready to follow them in. Sean Callaghan was big and strong and cocky, and his arrogance alone would have justified his presence, at least in his own mind.
He was also a good man who cared more than most, fought for the underdog, and had a definite bold streak of chivalry. The arrogance, the cockiness, she could handle easily. But this compassionate stuff was some dangerous shit.
She should never have allowed this morning to happen. The moment she woke up and found herself tucked into Sean’s bed – alone – she should have gotten herself the hell out of there. Things would have been so much simpler if he had just fucked her last night instead. Then she could blame the alcohol or the vulnerability that came with burying her mother while her twin was off getting high.
But no. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He’d held her. Listened. Said comforting things. Cleaned her up and dressed her in one of those soft, worn shirts that smelled like him, the bastard, before putting her in his bed and leaving her there while he wrestled that fine, huge body onto the sofa.
Show no weakness.
Nicki took a deep breath to steel her nerves, then opened the door a few inches. Even though she was expecting those laser-like eyes, they still gave her pause. Now, at least, she understood how other people felt when they looked into her eyes.
“May I come in?”
Nicki stifled the shudder the sound of his voice sent through her. All her traitorous body could remember was how that voice had sounded when it was filled with desire and arousal and pressed against her skin.
Aloud she asked, “Do I have a choice?”
“No. I’m just being polite.”
“Well don’t,” she said, stepping back to allow him to enter. “I have no use for it.”
“Just like wishes, then,” he murmured softly. Nicki ignored the poignant look, the one that offered her peace and comfort and God knew what else, turning away and putting space between them. Sean stepped into the room, sucking up most of the available air. At least that was how she explained her sudden difficulty in drawing a full breath.
“How’s Nick?”
She exhaled heavily, too weary to conjure up any false pretense. Sean had already seen the shape he was in, and had undoubtedly put the pieces together. There was nothing to be gained by trying to pretty it up. “He finally crashed. He’s sleeping it off.”
“He’s done this before?” Sean asked.
Nicki didn’t answer, pointedly looking away when she saw the brief flash of hurt in his eyes. The temptation to tell him, to unload all of the anger and hurt and frustration onto his broad shoulders, was strong, but she fought it. If she had even the slightest hope of making it out of Pine Ridge intact, she had to be strong.