The guy who’d been putting handcuffs on Nicky took him roughly by the upper arm and turned to face me.
“McCain?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back, his tone condemning. “Married to the job, huh?”
“Don’t worry about it, Trish,” Nicky said around a split lip that was already swelling. “I’ve gotten out of worse.”
“Worse?” I repeated. “What the hell is happening here? Why are you guys taking him in?”
“Apparently, he roughed up one of the guys from the Agency,” McCain explained as the other agents helped their comrades who were coming around and trying to get to their feet.
“What?” I shrieked. “That’s bullshit! Nicky was protecting me. That asshole Spalding and his boys took out Halloran’s girlfriend and her bodyguards and then got rough with me when I showed up.”
McCain shrugged. “Sorry, Trish, that’s not the story they told Al. He ordered us to bring Nicky in.”
I blinked at him in disbelief, my chest constricting with that particular brand of pain that went along with betrayal. “Al did this?”
McCain nodded. “You’ll have to take it up with him. In the meantime, I gotta take in your—what?—boyfriend?”
When I pressed my lips together in an angry line, McCain shoved Nicky toward the open door.
“Wait!” I snapped. “You could at least let him put on some shoes and a shirt, you jackass! It’s February, for God’s sake.”
McCain pegged me with an irritated glare, but said, “Fine. You have two minutes to get him something to put on.”
I raced back up the stairs and grabbed one of Nicky’s black turtleneck sweaters from the shelf in his closet and a pair of socks and combat boots.
“You wanna take these handcuffs off, pal?” Nicky asked when I returned. “I don’t mind Trish undressing me, but dressing me’s a different story.” When McCain looked like he was going to tell him to fuck off, Nicky added, “I promise to be a good boy. There’s a lady present and all that.”
McCain huffed, but took out his key and unlocked the handcuffs. The instant he did, the other agents pulled their guns and trained them on Nicky as a further reminder that he needed to behave. Nicky quickly pulled his sweater over his head and ran his hands through his dark hair. Then he sat down on the stairs to put his shoes on. I sat down next to him, watching his face intently, but never once did he look concerned until he glanced my way. Then his brow furrowed and he paused to put an arm around me and draw me close.
“Everything will be okay,” he murmured against my hair. “I promise. This is nothing, Trish. I’ve been through it before.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” I assured him. “I’ll talk to Al and get this straightened out.”
“Come on, Blue,” McCain snapped. “Time’s up.”
Nicky stood and pulled me up with him, then took my face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “I’ll see ya soon, doll.”
I nodded. “You’d better.”
Nicky turned and put his hands behind his back for McCain to put the cuffs back on, and kissed me again as they clicked into place. Then he gave me a grin and a playful wink before McCain led him out the door. They all loaded into the SUVs and slammed the door on Nicky, blocking him from my view. McCain was opening the door to get in when he saw me standing in the doorway and paused. I heard him curse under his breath and then he was striding toward me.
I spread my legs in an attack stance in case he’d decided to try to take me in, too, but he shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets and ducked his head a little. “Be careful, Trish,” he said quietly. “Spalding’s gunning for Nicky big-time after what happened. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle.”
“Gee, McCain,” I spat, “I didn’t know you cared.”
He gave me an apologetic look. “I do care,” he muttered. “A lot. I’m sorry things had to go down this way.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Me, too.”
He heaved a sigh. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
The guy looked genuinely sorry for what he’d been sent to do, but that did little to help dampen the anger that was boiling up inside me. Without a word, I slammed the door in his face and made my way upstairs to get dressed, my mind churning with the facts that I knew.
Spalding had it out for Nicky because of me, and Al had rolled over to take it up the ass from the Agency. I couldn’t believe that he’d give up one of his own with so little resistance, but if he thought I wasn’t going to have a thing to say about it, he could think again. I had so much to say, in fact, I hoped I still had a job when I was done.
Chapter Fourteen
“This is bullshit!”
Al Addin looked up from the paperwork on his desk and regarded me calmly. “I remember the days when you used to knock.”
“I remember the days when you used to have a pair,” I shot back.
His eyes flashed with mild anger, but he gestured toward the chair across from him. “Have a seat, Trish.”
I slammed the door and stormed over to the chair but didn’t sit. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared down at him. “Nicky didn’t do anything wrong. Spalding’s just pissed because Nicky cleaned his clock in front of his men.”
“Yes, he is,” Al agreed. “And if it’d been you who’d done it, we’d be having a very different conversation. But Nicky Blue is a known crime lord. I can’t protect him the same way I can protect you.”
“Protect him?” I echoed, incredulous. “You call sending eight men barging into Nicky’s house to rough him up and bring him in protecting him?”
“Roughing him up wasn’t part of the plan,” Al assured me, leaning back in his chair and giving me that look of his that made me a little jumpy. He only used it when he was righteously pissed off—and it was generally the only indication that he was. “I’m afraid things weren’t fully explained before one of the Enforcers decided to act. I believe he’s still recovering from the broken jaw Nicky Blue gave him, but the doctors tell me he’ll be fine.”
“So, what was supposed to happen?” I demanded.
Al steepled his fingers. “We were supposed to be taking Mr. Blue into protective custody under the ruse of charging him for the assault on Agent Spalding.”
I frowned in confusion and dropped into the chair Al had offered earlier. “Protective custody? Why?”
“The Agency wants Nicky’s head on a platter,” Al said on a sigh. He picked up a manila folder and tossed it to the edge of his desk. “Apparently, they don’t take kindly to Tales interfering with their investigations.”
I tentatively opened the folder. My eyes widened when I saw the photographs inside. There was one of Nicky fighting in the alley the night he’d rescued me. One of him carrying me to the Escalade after I’d been attacked at Halloran’s. Another of us walking into Happy Endings. Another one of him crouching along the roof of the building as he pursued the vampires that night. And another of us as we stood together, his arm inside my coat. It captured the moment when he was slipping a gun into my waistband, but it looked far more
intimate—and the look being exchanged between us, although it brought a smile to my lips, was so intense it didn’t do much to illustrate the truth of what had been happening. But the last photograph was the most infuriating. It was of me, pressed against the alley wall, a dark, formless mist pressing into me, my eyes wide with terror.
One of the Agency goons had been there, watching the whole time, and hadn’t come to my aid. I had to wonder, if Drac had decided to rip my throat out, would the goon have just watched me bleed out through his camera lens?