Chapter Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
JJ
I ’d never hit anyone in my life. Shame ripped through me as I ran from the bedroom, hating what I’d done and how it made me feel. How I couldn’t control this situation or save him from himself... because we both knew that him going to New York to confront his father was going to end badly. There could be no other way. Not with the wounds he carried.
He didn’t follow me, not that I expected him to.
Mrs. Santorini was in the guest room, so I paced a few rounds through the living room and kitchen until the worst of my emotion ran out. I eventually sank onto the couch in an emotional heap and Sunshine hopped up to join me.
I ran a hand through her silky hair. “Hey, sweet girl. Can you convince him to stay?”
She looked up at me with soulful brown eyes as if to tell me it was hopeless.
I’m not sure how, but I must’ve dozed off from sheer exhaustion. I woke with a start when my phone buzzed from the coffee table with a text.
Groggy, I leaned over and grabbed it, squinting against the sunlight that was blaring into the room from the open blinds, telling me I’d slept longer than I thought.
The message was from an unknown number, and I frowned in confusion.
Good morning! This is Alan from Rock You Magazine . Just wanted to confirm our meeting this afternoon. We’re looking forward to profiling you and Nico!
“Shit!”
I’d forgotten all about the spread Nico and I had agreed to and today was literally the worst day they could come out. Not only would he not be here, but I was also an emotional wreck, and his mother was here looking like a prized fighter just out of the ring. There was no way I could explain this away and make our marriage look good.
In full PR mode, I shot him back a quick text.
Me: Good morning, Alan. I am so sorry, we totally forgot that was today! Is there any way we can reschedule? Nico has an important event out of town that he can’t miss.
Alan: No worries. Rock star life, I get it. Will sometime next week work?
I bit my lip, not really sure how to answer that.
Me: I think so, but let me talk to Nico and get back to you.
Alan: Sounds good. Looking forward to it!
Me: Thanks for understanding. To make it up to you, I’ll make sure you get an exclusive copy of the new album!
Alan: Rockin’! Thanks a million!
I tossed my phone aside and that’s when I noticed the note in Nico’s small, scrawling script.
Hey Babe,
It’s been a bittersweet kind of hell, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Life has been too good with you, and I’d been wondering when something crushing would happen. Honestly, I thought it would be you waking up and realizing you’d married a loser and leaving me. Maybe that will still happen, especially now that you’ve seen the kind of man that fathered me.
Still, selfishly, I hope you can eventually understand and forgive me.
I tried.
Nico
I glanced down the hall toward our bedroom door and saw that it was open and the bed was still made. He hadn’t slept in it and he was gone. When had he slipped out without me noticing?
Fresh, hopeless tears filled my eyes as I got up and rushed there anyway, just to be sure he’d really left. Nothing was there but the faintest trace of his scent and the memory of his heartbreak and pleading look when he’d asked me to care for his mother.
A soft sound behind me startled me and I spun, hoping he might’ve changed his mind, but I found his mom standing in the threshold, looking a bit like a lost child in my blue nightgown and bare feet, her face pale except for the stark bruises on her cheeks and around her eye.
She lifted a hand to her throat. “He left, didn’t he?”
I nodded, trying to hold my tears back. “He and his brother are going to... speak to your husband.”
Big dark eyes, so much like her son’s, met mine filled with fear. “I worried this might happen.”
I wondered then how much she knew about Nico’s life. If she knew he teetered on addiction and that he’d nearly lost everything. That he might still because of this.
“I’ll call him,” she said. “I’ll go back. Take care of things.”
“No!” I think I startled us both with the vehemence of my response. But there was no way in hell I was letting her go back to that man after what he’d done. Not only would Nico be furious, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. “No,” I said again, calmer. “You came here for a reason, right? Let the boys talk to him, and then we’ll go from there.”
She studied me for a long moment, her gaze soft on my face. “You love my son.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Very much.”
“Then you can’t let him throw his life away for me.” So she did have some idea about Nico’s demons.
“I also can’t let you go back there. He’d hate that more.” And that’s when I realized what a special man it was that I loved. He was flawed and broken in a thousand different ways—much like a shattered piece of glass—but those cracks made him beautiful. And I knew, without a doubt, that he would lay down his own life and livelihood for those he loved, no questions asked and no second thoughts, demons be damned. It was just Nico’s way.
She shook her head and began to cry, her expression pleading, silently begging me to let her save her son.
I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I also knew I couldn’t hold her captive here. “I’ll go,” I blurted.
Her cries slowed as she stared at me and the idea firmed up in my mind as the best of all bad options. I nodded and grabbed her hand. “I’ll get someone we trust to stay with you here and I’ll go. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything that will ruin his life.”
We stared at each other, our shared love for Nico flowing between us. After a moment of thought, she slowly nodded and squeezed my fingers in a death grip. “Okay. Yes, thank you. Thank you.”
Within a couple of hours, I’d called Dr. Evans and explained the situation as quickly and as gently as I could, though I felt terrible for disturbing her when she’d just lost her husband. But she was the only person I could think of who might be able to help us navigate these murky waters. Thankfully, she came right over, seemingly grateful for the reprieve from her grief. She showed up in a bright-blue dress and sunny-yellow glasses, her smile bright for Mrs. Santorini, as if she didn’t notice a thing out of place.
“Go,” she urged me quietly. “Get him home safely. We’ll be fine here.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
She leaned in closer. “If he gives you any trouble, remind him what we talked about. Remind him that he doesn’t have to wear the suit. He’ll know what you mean.”
I frowned in confusion, but she just gave me a reassuring smile and ushered me toward the door.
“Go, before you miss your flight.”
I waved at Mrs. Santorini and readjusted the duffel on my shoulder, then rushed to my car. I hadn’t bothered to call Nico and tell him my plans. I knew he’d tell me not to come and there was no way I wasn’t going to be there for him. So, I headed to the airport with his childhood address tucked into my purse and my nerves tucked away for later.
The trip was surprisingly smooth, and since I hadn’t checked a bag, I was able to sail out of JFK quickly to meet my Uber. The New York air was startlingly frigid compared to LA, and I was glad Nico’s mom had insisted I dress accordingly.
I tugged my coat tighter around myself and blew into my cold hands as I waited, thankful when the gray SUV pulled up to the curb.
I climbed into the back seat and the driver verified the address I wanted, then took off into the slushy New York streets. I gazed out the window at the traffic and gray skies as my anxiety began to creep in and the miles ticked by. The highways eventually gave way to suburban streets, and I knew I was getting close to my destination and there was no turning back, not that I wanted to. I just had no idea what I was going to be walking into or how Nico would take my presence. I just wanted him to be okay.
The driver slowed to a stop in front of a nondescript small house with faded brown siding and a slush-covered walkway. It was in one of those older, well-established neighborhoods that required upkeep, but once upon a time had been the nice area of town and some of its splendor still shone through. The two picture windows were trimmed with off-white shutters; one held an empty flower box which seemed so sad. There was a covered carport that held two cars—an older burgundy sedan and a white mini-SUV. Both had a fine coating of dust and ice like they hadn’t left the driveway in a while.
I checked the mailbox and the peeling gold numbers were correct. This was the house.
I thanked the driver, grabbed my bag and purse, and stepped out onto the sidewalk, taking a big breath of cold air.
The neighborhood was silent except for a dog barking a few houses away and the sound of a siren zipping by in the distance.
I waited for my Uber to drive away, then I took a breath to gain my courage and made my way up the walkway and knocked, my heart pounding in my chest as I silently prayed Nico would answer the door.
After a moment, I heard the sound of feet on the other side, then the slide of locks. The door cracked open and I was met with eerily familiar dark eyes, yet I didn’t know them at all.
“Can I help you?”
I took in the man who was the spitting image of my husband, if he was older, heavier, and much, much angrier, and suddenly felt sick. He looked like Nico, but in caricature. His skin was waxy and gleamed with perspiration, his cheeks hung in slight jowls, his shoulders stood rigid like he was ready to pounce, his eyes... God, his eyes were so...
“You want something or not?” he demanded, making me jump.
“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing myself to speak. “I was looking for Nico?”
His eyes narrowed. “Nico?”
“Yes.”
He looked me up and down, taking in how I clutched the handle of my bag and the ring on my finger. Something in his expression changed at that and he swung open the door. “Come in.”
A part of me screamed not to go inside with this man, but I’d come this far, and I wasn’t about to back down now. I’d exchanged vows with Nico—for better or for worse—and though they’d been meant to be temporary at the time, those vows had come to mean so much. I’d see him through his worst moments now.
I offered his father a tight smile and stepped inside. I was immediately assailed by the stench of stale home. The curtains were tightly drawn, giving the place a claustrophobic feel so at odds with the exterior. I glanced around, hoping to catch sight of Nico and his brother and only found a home that had clearly been without a woman’s touch for several days. The TV was muted but playing an old black-and-white western. As I took another step farther, I could make out what looked to be strewn leftovers on the table next to a worn recliner and a half-empty bottle of liquor.
The door closed behind me and the lock slid shut, catching my attention. I spun back around, and Mr. Santorini was close enough to touch, his body odor overpowering. I took a step back, bumping into the wall. “Is Nico here?” I squeaked.
“You’re a jumpy little one, aren’t ya?” he sneered, seeming to enjoy my discomfort. “What did you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t,” I tried to sneer back, attempting to find my backbone. “It’s JJ.”
A black brow rose. “JJ? Isn’t that a boy’s name? For a pretty thing like you?” His lascivious gaze roamed over my hair and face, then down my jean-clad legs, making my skin crawl.
That was it. Something inside of me snapped to attention. I’d dealt with scumbags like him plenty of times. Both in the pageant world and in business. I handled them then just fine, and I wasn’t about to fall prey to one now just because he happened to be my father-in-law... gross as that might be.
“Nico!” I yelled out, hoping he was just in the other room sleeping off his long flight or something.
Mr. Santorini’s expression grew confused. “Why are you looking for him here? I haven’t heard from that son of mine in months.”
Damn.
Shit.
Fuck.
My stomach became a two-ton boulder as I realized I had miscalculated something very, very badly.
I swallowed and glanced at the exit. “My mistake. I’ll just—”
“No,” he cut me off, his voice a low growl. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. Why are you really here?”