Until Nico

Chapter 12
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 f*cking 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?”
“F*ck.” 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.”
“Sorry, babe.” I hear the regret in my own voice. I hate not being able to go with her, but after this job, I’ll be taking some time off until the baby gets here.
In reality, the more I think about leaving Sophie and the baby after he or she gets here, the more I start hating my job. Leo told me the other day that they have a couple of spots opening up in his department. He could get me in if I wanted. My first thought was no, but then he explained that their captain lets them do their own thing as long as they’re closing cases. Knowing that, if I took the job, I would no longer be going out of town and leaving her alone made me think harder about it. I want and need that. I hate the idea of her being home alone with a new baby. Yes, my family will be around, but it’s not the same. I never want to miss out on important occasions with my family.
“Mom’s gonna go with you so you won’t be alone.”
“I know, but it’s not the same,” she says, repeating my thought. It’s crazy to think how much my life has changed since I first laid eyes on her.
“I know it’s not.”
We drive the rest of the way home in silence. When we reach the house, I pull into the garage and help Sophie out of the car before heading to the mailbox.
“Nico,” Deb calls from two houses away, where she’s outside watering her lawn.
I lift my chin then shake my head at her. I don’t know how her husband puts up with her shit, but he’s a better man than I am. If I ever found out that Sophie was outside watering the lawn and wearing practically nothing, I would go postal.
“Hi, Deb,” Sophie calls, waving at Deb, who gives a small wave back. She presses her tits into my arm before sticking her hand in my back pocket, leaning deeper into me.
I bite my cheek to keep from smiling. It’s cute that she’s protective, but she never has anything to worry about.
“Did we get anything good?” she asks innocently, looking at the stack of letters in my hand.
I shuffle through the mail then stop when I come across the letter Sophie has been waiting for. In a way, I’m glad she’s here as I’m checking the mail. If I were on my own, I don’t know if I would have given her the letter. Yes, I want her to work through her past, but it’s engrained in me to protect her from anything that might potentially cause her pain.
“He wrote back,” she whispers, looking from the letter to my eyes.
I put all the mail in one hand before cupping her cheek with the other. “You don’t have to read it right now. You never have to read it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” She swallows, leaning her head deeper into my hand. “You’re right. I need to see what he has to say so I can put it all behind me. I don’t want this hanging over my head anymore, and I don’t want to worry about it when the baby gets here.”
“So we read it then burn it, making it history.”
She nods, not saying anything.
Running my thumb over her jaw, I lean in and kiss her once before tucking her under my arm to lead her inside. Once I get Sophie situated out on the back patio with a glass of tea, I go get a lighter and my metal trash can from the garage and take them out with me. I hand her the letter before pulling her onto my lap. Her hands start to shake as she rips the envelope open, and I watch as she pulls the letter out, unfolding it.
Dear Sophie,
I don’t even know where to start. I got the letter from Nico after I tried to phone you. I understand why you didn’t want to talk to me, but I wish I could hear your voice. Maybe one day, we can talk and I can hear for myself that you are well and happy. I know from your boyfriend that you have become successful and are leading a life that would make your mother proud. She was always proud of you. You were the most important thing in her life, and I know her death was hard on you. I wish I could explain to you the reasons I did what I did, but there is no excuse that will justify my actions and the way I neglected you when you needed me. Your mom would hate me if she knew what happened after her death. I regret few things in my life, but my treatment of you is something I will regret until the day I die. I'm sorry.
I know it would be nearly impossible for you to forgive me, but if you could find it in yourself to offer me a few words every now and then, I would enjoy that. Your boyfriend is very different from anyone I thought you would end up with, but he seems to love you and to be very protective, and even though it's not my right as your father, I couldn't ask for more. Your mother would have been thrilled that you found someone who obviously loves you so deeply. I love you, Sophie. I know I didn’t show it when I should have, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you and the woman you have become. I wish I could have been a better father to you. I just didn’t know how to do that after your mom died. I’m so sorry.
I hope this letter finds you happy.
Love,
Dad
I pull a sobbing Sophie into my chest, rocking her back and forth like a child, trying to offer her some comfort. After reading that letter, I hope she will be able to find some closure.
“I got you, babe,” I shush her, rubbing her back.
When the sobs racking her body start to die down, I pull her face out of my chest, taking a second to look at her. Even with her face splotchy with tears, she’s beautiful.
“I know that was difficult, but how are you feeling?”
“Torn,” she says quietly, grabbing my wrist. “I feel like I want to talk to him. He’s the only connection I have to my mom. I feel sad that it took him so long to realize what he had, and the other part of me hates him for not being there for me when I needed him. That’s the part I don’t like. I don’t want to hate him. My mom loved him. They were so in love that, even as young as I was, I could see their love was the kind that would never die. When I was young, my dad would come home from work and walk into the house, and the first thing he would do was go to my mom and kiss her, even if I was waiting by the door for him. Then he would come and pick me up.” I don’t tell her that that’s f*cked up. Our kids will be just as important as her. “When my mom died, I felt like my connection with him died too.” Yep, totally f*cked up. “I think I need time to think about this.”
“You have all the time you need.”
“Thank you for being here with me.” She does a face-plant back into my chest, making me smile.
“Nowhere else I would want to be.”
“Do you remember when I told you I used to want a tattoo?” she asks quietly.
“Yes.” I run my hand down her back, holding her tighter against me.
“My dad had my mom’s name tattooed along his ribs. I wanted that, only with my husband’s name, but then I lost my mom. And not long after that, I lost my dad, and I stopped believing love could last. Now I know it can. After I have this baby, I want a tattoo like that of your name along my ribs. I belong to you—will always belong to you. You brought me back to life.” She lifts her head to look at me. Her finger runs along my jaw then up to trace my bottom lip.
I can’t talk with the emotions choking me, so I pull her in for a deep kiss, gently pressing one hand to her stomach. After I find my voice again, I tell her, “If you want that, baby, I’ll take you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers
“There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, sweet Sophie.” I pull her closer to me and smile into her hair, thinking about my name being tattooed onto her perfect skin.
*~*~*
“You sure he’s here?” I ask Kenton, looking at the run-down house across the street from us.
“Yeah. When Ian called, he told me that Justin found a hit on his credit card. The stupid f*ck ordered shit from Amazon and had it deliver here.”
“How the f*ck did he run drugs without being caught for so long?” I shake my head. I swear I don’t know how most criminals are able to get away with the shit they do. Half of them are dumb as f*ck.
“I don’t think he was the one in charge,” Kenton says, shaking his head.
“So what do the cops say about him?”
“They think his partners are turning on him. They want to offer him a deal, but they haven’t been able to track him. You know they always have too much red tape when it comes to this shit. Their hands are tied, so they want us convince him that he needs to come in.”
“So what’s the plan?” I look across the street again, seeing that the only light on is the one in the basement.
“We go in and do just that—use the power of persuasion to convince him to do the right thing.”
“And if he doesn’t agree?” I ask with a smile, knowing what the answer will be.
“By the time we leave him, he will be running to the cops.”
“Sounds good.” I nod. What I do isn’t always smiled upon, but knowing that one more f*cked-up criminal will be off the streets before my child comes into this world makes me feel that much better about doing what I have to do. “Lets roll.”
I open the door to my car, getting out at the same time Kenton does. We don’t even bother with the front door. We walk around the side of the house, checking windows until one opens. Kenton goes in first and I follow behind him when he gives me the signal that it’s clear. After that, we search the house, making sure that no one else is inside. By the time we make it to the basement Meyer Bulger is in the middle of getting a blowjob. The chick that was sucking him off runs out of the room screaming when she sees me. I let her go, knowing that she was paid for her time and is not likely to get involved.
“Meyer,” Kenton says, sitting down casually across from the guy.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asks, his eyes are glossed over from the cocaine he was shoving up his nose.
“We came to have a chat,” I tell him, setting my gun down on the table in front of me. His eyes go wide and his hand moves to the left. “Try it and I will put a bullet in you.”
His eyes search my face, and I know that he can tell that I’m not f*cking around. His hand that had been reaching for his piece moves back to his lap.
“What do you want?” he asks, looking between Kenton and me.
“You,” Kenton says with a shrug.
“What the f*ck does that mean?”
“You know what it means, Meyer.” I shake my head.
“I’m not a snitch.”
“Then you’re dead,” I tell him, starting to stand.
“No, you don’t understand.”
“I do understand.” I look him over. “I can see it now. You probably started using your own product when no one was watching. Eventually your addiction caught up with you and you couldn’t get enough. When that happened, you started f*cking up, and the people at the top of the food chain didn’t like that much. Now they want you dead. So tell me. What’s it going to be?”
“You know if I talk to the cops I’m signing my death warrant.”
“You have a better chance of surviving if you work with the cops,” Kenton tells him.
“F*ck.” He shakes his head, his eyes falling to his lap, and just like that, I know we won.
I look at Kenton and smile, ready to get the f*ck home to my girl.
*~*~*
"Ma, we’re not moving," I state firmly then watch Sophie's bottom lip wobble. F*ck, I hate when she cries, and she cries about everything lately. “Baby, please don’t cry.” I pull her into my side, kissing her head.
"I always wanted to live in the country, and the money from selling my house can buy it. Please just look at it before you say no,” she says, looking up at me with tears filling her eyes.
"You’re not buying our house." I look at the ceiling, praying for patience. "Ma, do you see the trouble you’re causing?" I narrow my eyes on my mom. “I leave my girl with you for three days, and this is what you do?”
"Your mom’s not causing trouble." Sophie sighs, looking at my mom then me
. I see something pass between them. "What?" I look at my mom and then back to her.
"I have something to tell you," Sophie says, biting her bottom lip while avoiding eye contact.
"What?" I repeat.
"I think you should sit," she says, wringing her hands together.
"I don't need to sit. Is it about the baby?" I ask, feeling sick all of a sudden.
"I really think you should sit, honey,” my mom says quietly, causing me to panic.
"Tell me," I growl.
"We're having twins," Sophie blurts then covers her mouth, looking at my mom with wide eyes.
I stare at her blankly for a minute. I don’t make her repeat herself; I heard her loud and clear. "I need to sit," I mumble, walking over to the couch where I plop, putting my head between my knees. “How did this happen?” I wonder out loud. Hearing my mom laugh, I lift my head to glare at her.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Mom sings, walking off.
“Are you okay?” Sophie asks, coming to sit next to me and running her hand down my back.
I sit back, pulling her into my lap to run my hand over her stomach. I can’t believe this; it’s like hitting the kid lotto.
“You’re okay with this, right?” she asks, and I realize I haven’t spoken to her; I’ve just been staring at her stomach, running my hands over her large bump.
“Shocked as hell.” I shake my head in disbelief. “We’re having twins.” I smile then feel it fall from my face. “They’re both okay, right?”
“The doctor said they’re perfect.”
“Why are we just finding this out?” I rub her stomach again, amazed that two babies are growing in there. I can’t imagine how large her stomach will be when it comes time for her to give birth. She’s so tiny, and her stomach is already large at just four months along.
“The doctor wasn’t sure why the other baby didn’t show before now, but he was suspicious when I told him we could feel him or her moving already, so he did an ultrasound to see what was going on. That’s when we saw that there were two of them, and he assured me that everything’s fine,” she explains with a beautiful smile that lights up her whole face.
“Do you really want to move?” I pull her head down to lay against my chest. I love the townhouse, but I can’t see us raising our kids there. The neighborhood is mainly single people and couples with no children.
“I know you love your place, but I want my kids to grow up close to family. Well, your family, anyways,” she says softly.
“They’re your family now too, and my place is always your place.”
“I know.”
I can hear the smile and tears in her voice, so I pull her face away so I can look at her. “All right, baby. We’re gonna have to move anyways. One baby would be okay in our place now, but two would be pushing it.”
“Really?” she asks happily.
“Anything for you, sweet Sophie,” I tell her, watching in fascination as she laughs and cries all at the same time.