“Gill killed Nick Sebring’s girlfriend,” I stated and Tommy finally focused on me rather than vomiting words at me.
“Gill killed Nick Sebring’s Fed girlfriend,” he confirmed. “Man was an informant, Liv. A CI. You know how those brothers are about women. Human trafficking is not gonna happen in Denver if either of them can do shit about it. Nick went in. Got tight with this girl. Your dad was desperate. He had partners putting on pressure. The House of Shade needed something. He tried to pull that shit off, got wind Nick was a CI and the girl was undercover, he made the order. Sebring’s fucking you to get to your family. He even owns that club where Harry takes you to watch people go at each other. Silent partner, him and his brother. Harry needs money and I need information so I give him money and Harry finds out a lot of shit. He found that out when he caught Nick and a bunch of his boys on your ass, watching you. And Sebring’s been watchin’ you for years, Liv. Fuckin’ years. Since that shit went down with his girl. He bought that club, my guess, he was done watchin’, ready to roll, sole purpose of the buy to make an opening to get to the only weak link in the House of Shade. That weak link bein’ you.”
His face twisted with jealousy before he finished.
“And he got that right because he got you.”
Nick owned the club.
Nick had been watching me.
Nick had been watching me for years.
Nick had been listening for years.
Listening to everything.
Nick had been a confidential informant for the FBI.
Nick had a girlfriend that Gill had whacked.
Nick had a girlfriend that Gill had whacked on my father’s order.
Nick.
My Nick.
No.
Not my Nick.
He’d never been my Nick.
Not ever.
I looked away from Tommy, murmuring, “I need to get ice on my face.”
His voice changed, went low, sweet, and he got close again when he replied, “Yeah, you do. You want me to get it for you, baby?”
Baby.
Tears started to flood my eyes but I took a deep breath to hold them back.
I shook my head, “No, I just want to go home.”
“Take you, Liv.”
I looked back to him. “I need some time alone, Tommy.”
He studied me a moment. It was a long moment, too long. Long enough to make me fear I’d lose it, and I did not want to lose it, not there. Not close to Georgia and Dad. Not in front of Tommy.
Thankfully, he nodded.
“Give you tonight, Liv. Tomorrow, honey, we gotta talk.”
I was not talking to Tommy.
I didn’t know what I was doing, right then, the next second, the next day, the rest of my life.
All I knew was what I needed and that was that I had to get out of there.
To do that, I nodded to Tommy and moved around him.
I was halfway to the door when Tommy asked, “Babe, you gonna at least give me a hug or something?”
I again looked to him. I was losing my fight to control the tears. I knew this when I felt them start to spill over.
“Liv, baby,” he whispered, making a move toward me.
I took a quick step back, lifting a hand. “Don’t. Please.”
He stopped.
“I need some time,” I repeated.
There was a hesitation before he replied, “Okay, Liv. You got tonight. Yeah?”
I nodded.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Sort shit out,” he declared.
I nodded again.
“We been waiting a long time but now’s our time. It’s finally our time. Okay?” he asked.
I made no verbal or non-verbal reply. I didn’t have it in me. I just kept looking at him.
“Love you, baby. Always loved you,” he said gently.
Maybe he did love me. It just wasn’t the kind of love I needed.
I knew the kind of love I needed. I’d tasted it.
It was sweet.
So, so sweet.
Ambrosia.
Even if it was a lie.
“Talk to you tomorrow, honey,” Tommy said. “Now go home, get some ice on your face. You want me, call me. I’m there.”
I nodded yet again then moved as quickly as I could in my tight skirt and heels, pulling my bag I’d completely forgotten I had and somehow held on to throughout it all down my arm.
I got out my keys.
I got out of the warehouse.
I got into my car.
I shoved my sunglasses on my nose, the throb in my face and sting in my wrist completely unnoticed seeing as I was more focused on the ice that was forming around my heart.
I reversed out of my spot.
On my way home, I looked in the rearview mirror once, seeing who I knew (but had never met) was one of Nick’s men trailing me. Trailing me like he’d probably done often over the years. He wasn’t obvious, but I saw him.
I didn’t see Harry but now I knew he could be back there.
He’d played me.
God, I didn’t even have Harry, such as he was, a reminder of a golden time when I still hoped. When I still had it in me to believe.
Now I’d learned. Definitely learned.
Gold didn’t exist. It was all fake and tarnished.
My phone rang. I looked to the dash to see it was Nick.
That ice crawled up my throat, frost crackling and spreading.
I ignored it as well as the strange coolness of the tears sliding unnoticed down my cheeks.
My phone stopped ringing but it did chirp with a text.
It would do this repeatedly for some time.