Sebring (Unfinished Heroes #5)

Dad pulled the trigger.

Nair’s head exploded.

He just had to pull out his .45.

I closed my eyes, swallowed the sick that surged up from my gut, turned back to the window and dropped my phone hand.

“Seriously?” Georgia asked, not hiding her exasperation. “Our cleaning bill is out the roof already.”

“Reschedule,” Dad barked. “And clean that shit up.”

I opened my eyes and stared through the grime at the parking lot.

“Olivia?” Dad called.

I turned my head his way. He was now close to the door.

He held my gaze and nodded, seemingly communicating something weighty, like for some reason he was proud of me.

I felt my flesh crawl.

Dad turned away, walked out and slammed the door behind him.

I looked back out the windows.

I then heard Georgia say, obviously into her phone, “Yeah, Gill. Call Henrietta. Get some heavy duty bags. Clean up on aisle five.”

I sighed.

“Liv,” she called to me.

I looked to my sister.

She had a hip hitched, her phone up in front of her face, her eyes to it, thumb moving on her screen.

“How’re you fixed for next Thursday?” she asked.

Good God.

My family.



*

Nick



5:38 – That Evening



Jogging down the stairwell to get to the underground parking lot of his building, Nick made his fourth call to Olivia that day.

He was concerned.

It was his third call, the first, that morning, she’d answered. The last two that afternoon, she had not. But he’d also texted three times, all that afternoon, and none of those she’d answered.

He had no ears at that warehouse.

And he had a leak.

She had a meeting that afternoon at that warehouse.

She worked with vipers.

And she was his.

They found that out, they’d strike.

He had no choice but to let her go to work every day with that threat hanging over their heads, a threat she didn’t fully understand.

But with his access cut off to the House of Shade, and Sylvie and Creed just back from Phoenix and on the job, Nick was keeping closer tabs on his woman.

So yeah, she didn’t reply, he got worried.

Now, with spotty reception, he felt relief when she answered. He also immediately decided to put a man on her, everywhere she went, unless she was with Nick.

“Sebring,” she said in greeting.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered.

He jogged faster. “What’s happening?”

“Not for the phone,” she stated, her voice breaking up as he got deeper underground, but he heard her.

Fuck.

She knew her cell wasn’t tracked. He’d told her after his boys went over it.

She still had something she couldn’t say on the phone.

Fuck.

He pushed through the door. “I’m coming home. Where are you?”

“Sucking back melon shit and vodka at your bar.”

“Be there in twenty.”

“All right, sweetheart.”

He disconnected, got in his car and probably pissed off a fuckload of people as he made the thirty-minute, rush-hour drive to his place, doing it in twenty.

He jogged up his steps taking them two at a time.

He pulled open the door, shut it behind him, bolted it and strode swiftly into his unit to see her at his bar, tight skirt still on, high heels kicked off, the evidence of her recent activities littering his kitchen, hand wrapped around a green drink.

“I’m cooking and you can’t argue since it’s mostly done,” she declared.

It smelled awesome which probably meant each bite was going to shave a year off his life.

“You’re home early,” he noted, making his way to her.

“Even though my father thinks he owns me, I do tend to be allowed to make my own hours. So today, I gave myself the afternoon off to go to the grocery store, get the provisions and beat you here to start cooking because our monthly meeting about the family business was postponed due to unexpected circumstances.”

He stopped close and she tipped her head back to keep hold on his gaze.

Watching her hair glide off her shoulders and fall down her back, seeing how soft her slim-fitting sweater looked up close, having her mouth right there, he wanted to kiss her.

But he didn’t quite get what was in her eyes.

“What’s makin’ you not really okay, Livvie?” he asked quietly.

“I have good news and…I think…good news,” she announced.

He felt his head jerk.

Then he warned her he was losing patience by saying, “Liv.”

“My guess is that you know Drake Nair.”

Nick felt his body go solid.

He knew Nair.

He knew Nair as an adversary of his brother’s.

He also knew Nair as a total and complete asshole.

He further knew Nair was mixed up with the human trafficking business that got Hettie dead.