Page 74 of Wicked Lies

Nick shoved the phone into his pocket and stared at the rain water slide down the windows in long, unending streams. The waiting and the planning paid off. The incident with the cops probably had to do with Alejandro’s shit, but he set him straight.

* * *

“Everything all right?”Cheryl’s brain spun in an unending loop of scenarios. None of them good.

“Yeah. Just thinking about the future.”

A future she would love to be included in if she could find the guts to tell him about her latest secret and how his very life was probably in danger.

“Sometimes I feel guilty,” she said.

He cocked his head. “You kept saying you were sorry about something last night.”

Oh shit, nothing worse than drunk confessions. “I did?”

“I figured it was the tequila talking.”

“Right.” She pulled more of the bagel apart but didn’t eat.

Where did she start? Involving him in her screwed-up life, or not telling him about a scheme to wreck him?

“I’m sorry about involving you in my problems.” She cursed herself for the generic answer. Her brain screamed words likechicken-shitandcoward,but there was no good way to spin it.

“Why don’t you go in and fill up the Jacuzzi with nice warm water?” he suggested. “It’ll help your headache.”

Guilt surged through her making her sicker than the alcohol. “Only if you join me.” She leaned up and kissed him.

Her brain screamed at her to blurt it out, but the words sounded so feeble and weak.Guess what, Frank called, gave me drugs to plant on you, threatened your life,and I kept it from you, again.

So many things she’d done wrong, but staying quiet when Nick professed his love last night tore her up. She’d played it off like she’d passed out, but she heard his raspy voice—so soft, so gentle. His warm breath close to her ear. She’d wanted to hold on to him and never let go, to repeat the same words back to him a hundred times over. Still, knowing how much her trust meant to him, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t start their relationship without confessing what she knew about Frank’s plan to take him down. If only she’d told him last night, but she’d gotten wrapped up in the evening, then taken the easy way out by indulging in too much champagne and tequila.

“Mmmm.” He snuck his hand inside the fold of her robe. “Soaping you up and drying you off?”

She stepped out of his embrace and cinched her robe tighter. “Give me a few minutes before you come in. I want everything to be perfect.” She moved toward the bedroom, leaving promise in her wake while her insides trembled with dread. She’d waited all her life to find someone like Nick, and now both their lives were probably in danger because of her betrayal.

Their first time together, she knew—maybe not that she loved Nick, but that he was different from other men and he made her feel special. He’d told her she made him want to be better, but he made her want to expect better, not settle, and accept the unacceptable. The little zing in her heart when he said her name, the glimmer in his eyes when he teased her, and the security when he held her—how could Cheryl gamble with losing something so precious, so vital to her existence?

“You naked in my hot tub is about as damn perfect as you can get,” Nick called after her as she closed the bedroom door.

She hugged the robe around her and pulled out her phone. After her betrayal, she’d expected another threatening call from Frank, but nothing. She shivered again as the rain pelted against the window. Frank’s silence unnerved her more than his threats.

The minute Nick entered the bathroom, she’d tell him everything. She figured for now they were safe in the condo, but she couldn’t let him leave knowing he could be Frank’s next victim. She reasoned maybe Carlos and some of his other friends down here could help him.

23

Nick switched on some lights, hating the way the storm turned the day into night. Then he watched the gathering clouds over the ocean when a knock on the door interrupted him.

He squinted through the peephole, then flipped the locks and hauled the door open. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Nick fixed on Carlos’s pinched face, damp with sweat and his usual impeccable appearance disheveled.

Nick led him into the condo, and Carlos’s footfalls echoed behind him on the marble floor. When they got to the living room, Nick motioned to the couch, but Carlos remained standing.

Carlos jerked his head from side to side. “I tried to warn you last night.”

“Warn me about what?”

“But you kept pushing. You think no one can touch you, but—”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Is this about Alejandro?” A crack of thunder drew Nick’s gaze to the windows. He turned back to face Carlos and froze. The .45 he leveled at him said it all.

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