Page 45 of Pretty Little Disaster

“But, if they aren’t, you shoot at whatever comes at you,” Nic tells him, gripping both our bags in one hand and wrapping the hand, he’s holding his gun in, around my shoulder as he leads me out of the house.

NIC

“Jesus, you're shaking.” I take off my sweater and place it over her head once we make it to the hangar. Luckily, Dario always has a pilot on standby and he’s arranged for me to meet him here. The whole car journey Lorna has sobbed, I’ve wanted so much to comfort her, but what can I say? The girl just saw her father get shot right in front of her.

My heart is beating way too fast, my mind is trying to think about too many different things at once and my focus has to be on getting Lorna to safety.

I need to know who fired that fucking bullet. Whoever it was, has to be a professional. Nobody saw them and, judging by what I noticed was left of Doyle, it was an accurate hit. Knowing that the bullet would have been just inches away from Lorna, or that it could have traveled through, is making my own hands shake.

The door to the jet is already open when I pull up the hire car. The stewardess stands ready to greet us as I get out of the car and move around to the passenger side to get Lorna. She’s still in shock and shivers against me as I lead her across the tarmac and up the steps to board the jet. The stewardess's smile instantly drops when she notices all the blood on my girl, and I nod my head politely at her as we pass, acting as if everything isperfectly normal. Dario hires his cabin crew on a full-time basis, they are all well-vetted and trusted employees. I’m sure she will have seen much worse, and I know she’s paid enough to act like it’s normal too.

“He’s dead.” Lorna looks up at me as I guide her to a seat and force her to sit. “He’s dead, Nic.” Her scared eyes brim with tears.

“I know, and it’s really scary but, right now, I need you to think of our baby and stay calm. You're safe.” I crouch in front of her, and the bright lights from the cabin remind me just how bad a mess she’s in. The blood has already dried on her face, her tears have made tracks through it, and although her hair is clumped together with chunks of her father’s brain matter, I still smooth it behind her ears and grab her face so she focuses on me.

“Don’t leave me.” Her eyes are desperate now, her hands clinging to my forearms like she’s petrified to let me go. I’m a sick, fucking bastard for liking the way that feels at a time like this.

I need to be one hundred percent focused. I don’t know who killed Jeremy Doyle, I don’t know why he was here but until I do, I can’t ensure that whoever it was won’t come after her too.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I close my eyes and press my forehead against hers, breathing slow and deep to remind her how it’s done.

“Baby…” After a few moments I pull back, “Do you know why your father was here?” I look out the cabin windows cautiously. I don’t know how long it’s been since Dario called the pilot, he assured me he could have him here within the hour. I’ll feel much better when we’re back on home ground.

“I guess he was looking out for me.” She frowns with something that resembles guilt lying heavy in her eyes.

“Lorna, whatever this was about, it wasn’t your fault.” I take hold of her trembling hands and raise them to my lips so I can kiss them. She’s still far too fucking cold. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to think back to what happened. Did you see anyone else out on the beach? Did your dad say anything that might be relevant?” I don’t like the way she suddenly stares back at me, it looks somewhere between fear and confusion and I hate even more that she slowly withdraws her hands from mine.

“He…he was trying to get me to go with him, he told me you were dangerous,” she whispers and the wariness in her eyes makes my entire body turn cold.

“He came here to take you?” Now,I’mthe one confused, how could he even know she was here?

Her head nods slowly and I can see that whatever his final words were, they have put a doubt in her mind.

“Fuck.” I check my watch and see that it’s only been thirty minutes since I called Dario.

“How far away is the pilot?” I look over my shoulder to ask her, wondering how she got here so fast.

“He’s scheduled to be here in around thirty minutes, sir. Can I offer you a drink in the meantime?”

“No, thank you.” I stand my girl back on her feet and lead her to the back of the cabin where I know there’s a small but convenient shower.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” I close the door behind me and start to strip off her blood-drenched clothes, dumping them in the basin beside us before turning on the shower and testing the heat of the water. She allows me to maneuver her body so she’s beneath the spray, and stands motionless as I rinse her father’s blood from her.

“Are you warm enough?” I check when I notice the goosebumps on her skin. All I get from her in response is a feeble nod.

She’s lost, and I don’t know if a person can ever come back from what she’s just had to witness. I grip the tops of her arms, shaking her enough to ensure she listens to what I have to say.

“Lorna, listen to me. Your father was right. Iamdangerous,” I admit, watching her blink back at me in shock. “I’m real fucking dangerous, baby. I’ve done some pretty fucked up things. But...” I make sure I’m looking into her eyes so she can see my honesty. “I am no danger to you. I would never,everhurt you. And I would die before I let anyone else. Tell me you believe that.” Now it’s me who’s shaking because a lot rests on her answer. She says nothing, just wraps her arms around my body and tucks her head into my neck, soaking me wet through and sobbing. I guess that's her answer, and as I hold her tight and kiss the top of her head, I breathe out a long sigh of relief.

“I need you to tell me about your father, Lorna. I need to know whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me.” I’ve dried her and changed her into clean clothes from the holdall, and although I’m still in soaking wet clothes I need answers, more than I need to be comfortable. Her hands are still shaking as they both clutch the orange juice the stewardess brought her and, thankfully, we’re now on our way back to New York.

She doesn’t fucking answer me, just shakes her head and closes her eyes.

“Lorna, whatever it is you can tell me,” I assure her.

“I can’t, it’s…I just can’t.” She bursts into tears again and I scrub my hand over my face.

“Lorna, he’s dead, nothing that you tell me is going to hurt him now.”

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