*
“Holy fucking shit, Nix. Remind me not to piss you off,” Brookes said as he drove away from the quiet residential neighborhood. By the time the cleanup crew was finished, there would be no indication of what had occurred. A For Sale sign would appear on the property within the week and the neighbors would believe that the reclusive owner had simply decided to remain in his second residence down in Florida. All of Benny’s assets would be discreetly, untraceably liquidated.
Nicki was shivering in Fisher’s arms, despite the fact that Brooke’s had the heater blasting and Fisher had wrapped his coat around her. “You’re scaring me, Nix. You’re really fucking scaring me.”
Her eyes shone against the abnormal paleness of her face. She blinked once, twice, and Fisher was stunned by the pain he saw there. Nix was the toughest agent he’d ever worked with. Cold. Precise. Unerring. The woman he held in his arms now was not the one he knew.
Brookes pulled into the motel parking lot, keeping away from the lamps illuminating most of the area. Fisher bundled up Nicki and guided her through the shadows and into their room. Without hesitation he pulled off the coat and carried her into the shower where he held her under hot, steamy water until she started to come around.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally pushed away from his chest and looked up at him. “Gee, Fish, we were always naked in my fantasies. And you looked a lot more like Hugh Jackman.”
He laughed and kissed her head as relief flooded him. “Welcome back, Nix. You okay?”
“Yeah,” she smiled wearily. “Nothing a six-pack, a pizza, and a good night’s sleep won’t fix. Now get the fuck out of my shower.”
For once, Fisher didn’t argue.
*
“And bring me my shit,” she yelled after him. Nicki knew by the burning across her stomach Benny had managed to get in a pretty good slice, but thankfully, no one had noticed it. Benny’s emasculation had been so bloody no one thought twice about the copious red stains on her abdomen.
She peeled off her clothes, making a mental note to burn them later, and took a look. Damn. The force and heat of the water directly on the open wound made her hiss, and she quickly turned her back to it. She exhaled heavily. Stitches would be required, but at least no vital organs had been hit.
The sound of a bag being dropped on the floor preceded Fisher pulling open the shower curtain. Fisher’s eyes immediately locked on to the ugly gash still seeping crimson.
His eyes turned angrier than she’d ever seen. “Perv,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood, but he just ground his teeth and glared at her. “I knew it,” he said, letting out a string of oaths that surprised even Nicki. “Brookes!” he called, and Nicki almost shivered from the power of it.
Normally Josh Fisher was an easy going guy. Nicki was one of the few people who knew that despite the fact that everything about him screamed “boy scout”, he could be just as merciless and deadly as she was. Though this was the first time he’d ever turned that persona on her.
Brookes was there immediately. He said nothing as Fisher wrapped Nicki in a towel and tugged her out to the bed. Brookes got out the med kit and was already preparing the sutures. Without a word, Fisher helped Nicki into panties and a T-shirt, his movements quick and efficient. At one point she started to protest but a single glare from his eyes – which were now as black as onyx – and she thought better of it.
She remained quiet as Brookes stitched her up, refusing to acknowledge the pain of the wound or the treatment. Brookes said nothing, though his eyes occasionally lifted to meet hers, his expression unreadable. When he was finished, he covered the wound with a self-sealing pad and announced he was heading out for food.
Fisher stood in the corner of the room, ever watchful, his eyes burning into her. He stayed there, silent and unmoving, several minutes after Brookes cleaned up and left the room.
“You lied to me,” he said finally, and the weight of the anger and the betrayal in his voice was almost suffocating.
“I didn’t,” she said, but she avoided meeting his eyes.
“Bullshit. You withheld crucial information.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not.” Fisher got up and began to pace the room. “That was no standard assignment. It was personal for you. Beyond personal.”
Nicki’s eyes followed him. She didn’t deny it. Fisher paced the room a few more times. When Brookes came in with a pizza and a brown bag with two-six packs, Fisher stalked outside.
“Give him some time to cool off,” Brookes said, twisting the top off of a beer and handing it to her. She took a long pull and eyed the pizza. Suddenly she didn’t have much of an appetite.