“An FBI agent. She’s going to help us catch this man. She’s been posing as a new patient who moved here because her husband was transferred to another police department…but I’m not sure that’s going to work too well now since I was supposed to be that police officer,” I told her honestly.
She glared.
“And what does being a fake husband make you have to do?” She asked, clearly not happy with my answer.
I shrugged. “Go to doctor’s appointments. Be seen with her in public. Stay in the same place at night.”
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline.
“And what about my appointments?” She asked.
I saw where she was going with it, and I knew she wouldn’t like my answer.
“I can’t go to them.”
And I couldn’t.
Not if this was to be authentic and believable.
“What about the birth of our child…will you be able to come then?” She asked calmly.
“If he’s caught,” I said carefully.
She dropped her hand from my face and stood there, looking up at the ceiling.
Her tears had never abated, and I felt about six inches high.
“Please get off me,” she said. “Please.”
“We can have each other at night,” I told her. “I love you.”
Those words seemed to make her snap.
She pushed me away from her with enough force that I fell backwards, my ass planting on the ground solidly.
And I was also far enough away that she almost had the door open.
Almost.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she growled, yanking on the door.
I slammed my hand down to stop her progress.
“It has to look real!” I yelled at her.
“You want to have real, use me! I’m real! You put this baby inside of me, maybe you should use me since I’m actually yours!” She yelled, waving her hands in the air in true Pena Tantrum fashion.
My eyes narrowed, then I moved forward until I could only make out the whites of her eyes.
“I can’t use you. Because you’re mine, and I don’t ever want you on that man’s radar,” I hissed, crowding her into the dirty, grunge covered wall once again.
She pushed at my shoulders, but I didn’t budge.
“Get off me!” She screamed, drawing the attention of the entire bar I was sure.
I pulled back and let her escape, and immediately saw Dane.
Dane had taken my place on the Lisette’s arm. He looked at me in concern, but he didn’t intervene.
Nobody did, in fact.
I followed Nikki out of the bar.
Then followed her to her car.
Then followed her straight to her apartment.
When I got to her front door, I tried the handle, and was surprised to feel it unlocked.
So she wasn’t too mad at me, otherwise she would’ve locked the door.
Right?
Wrong.
When I pushed the door open to her apartment, I was startled by what I saw.
She was on her knees in the middle of the living room.
She was facing away from me, her chest up tight to the coffee table as she looked at something with such focus that I wasn’t sure what to think.
“Nikki?” I called, walking up behind her slowly.
She looked over her shoulder at me, and I read the determination there.
The understanding.
The resignation.
“Come look at this, Michael,” she said softly.
As I made my way up to her side, I looked down, and my knees went weak at what I saw.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked softly, dropping down to my knees beside her.
My knees sank down into the plush carpet.
The pretty purple carpet that Nikki just ‘had to have’ when we were at Lowe’s one weekend looking for paint thinner.
And I thought to myself, ‘this’ll look good in the baby’s room.’
“You need to choose, Michael. The killer and your duties, or me. Because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t put my life on hold, wondering how long it’ll be before you come back. Wonder if you’ll make it to the birth of our little girl. Wondering if this killer will take you from us. I just can’t Michael. So choose. Them, or us.”
I closed my eyes, and made the easiest decision of my life.
“I gotta go.”
Chapter 17
Run like Dean just saw you crash the Impala.
-T-shirt
Nikki
My emotions were swirling around me like a black funnel cloud of doom.