Page 114 of Wine & Whiskey
17
Chapter Seventeen
Nick leans backin his chair and props his feet on his desk as Max updates Carter and him about the bungled hijacking attempt on one of their largest shipments.
“Some of Juan’s guys were stupid enough to think nobody would notice twelve fucking semis suddenly vanishing. I guess they thought at five o’clock on a Friday afternoon we’d be closed up for the weekend. Anyway, they rerouted everything to one of his northern warehouses.” Max shrugs his shoulders, a smart-ass smirk crossing his face. “Well, that’s what it used to be.”
Carter flips through the pages in the folder. “What’s the damage?”
“Nothing for us. Paulo’s team recovered the trucks still fully loaded about an hour later. Juan lost six men and the main building, plus two small structures on the property.”
Nick half-listens as they talk. Working on the weekends has always been a regular occurrence. No different from any other day. Until Shae. She gave him a reason to quit, provided him with the motivation to come home. Without her, nothing but work fills his time.
Carter turns to him. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m tired of him fucking with me in all these half-assed attacks. I think it’s time the rest of his distribution system goes up in flames too.”
“Really?” Shock tinges Max’s voice. “You want to go that big?”
Nick’s feet drop to the floor, and he walks over to the window. Orange and pink streaks crisscross the sky. Shae’s favorite time of day. If she was still his, they would be on the deck, her sweet body pressed against him as they watched the sunset. “Juan’s too weak to do any real damage, and his threats are nothing but an annoyance. I might as well prove it to anyone who has a doubt.”
Letting out a low whistle, Max shakes his head. “No one will wonder after this.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m going to increase security on Shae. Just in case your message causes any thoughts of retribution.”
Nick turns away from the window at the mention of her name. For more than three weeks, he’s tortured himself with updates from Max. Needing to know where she’s going and with whom. At first, the reports were infrequent. She rarely left the house. Now, she’s coming back to life and doing things. Without him. “Where is she tonight?”
“Carrie and Nathan’s engagement party at Yamato’s. It started at seven. She’s still there.”
His jaw clenches. He should be there too, at her side, as she celebrates with her friends. Not alone. Or with fucking Evan.The biggest fucking regret of his life…telling her to be with that bastard.
He can’t stop the images flooding his mind. She probably has her hair up, shoulders begging to be kissed. Her flowery scent floating over her silky skin. The way she smiles at him and squeezes his thigh when she talks to her friends, reminding him he still occupies her thoughts. God, he fucking misses her. “How many guys do you have on her?”
Max’s expression remains neutral as he recites his usual speech for any place she goes. “We scoped out the restaurant before she arrived. Three inside, four outside, with two at each entrance. She’s well protected. Nothing’s going to happen to her.”
The information fails to relieve his worry. Only he or Max can protect her the way he wants, yet she refuses to let Max guard her anymore. She sent the message through Carrie—that the bodyguard deserves better than having to babysit her, and he can’t push it. His stomach clenches at the thought of her not allowing him protect her at all, of not keeping her safe from the threats lurking around him. “Up it to ten. At her place too.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Why the fuck won’t she come back to the house?”
Carter rolls his eyes. “You’re such a fucking dumbass. You broke her heart. There’s no way in hell she’s going to do what you want.”
“Fuck you. How do you—?”
Max interrupts their argument after glancing at his phone. “Well, you just got your answer.”
“What?”
“The party’s over. She left with Evan.”
* * *
Unable to stiflethe thought of her in Evan’s bed and not his, he pours another glass and waits for the sun to rise. The throbbing of his chest mingles with the burn of whiskey as it slides down his throat. His first taste in two weeks. Drinking his way through everything in the house until Marta refused to buy more, and Max and Carter ganged up on him. An intervention to steer him off the path of self-destruction.
The only threat with any impact was to bring Shae back to see him wasted and broken. Knowing she would do everything she could to save him and their relationship, he couldn’t take the chance he would succumb to her sweetness. So, he sobered up, apologized to Marta, and threw himself back into work.
He pushed her to Evan, and now that motherfucker’s where he should be. Uncertain who he hates more between himself and Evan, he rifles through the files in his drawer before toppling the stack on the credenza behind his desk. Where the fuck is it? “Max!”
After a minute, Max comes through the doorway, shaking the mixing bottle for his protein shake. “What?”
