Chapter 22 #2
“Lauren’s on it.” Key found, Nic inserted it into the lock and jiggled it until it turned. Half the battle won. “Or he could be in the wind already.”
“We need to get someone else on you,” Cam said. “Eddie or Mel.”
“I’m at home, trying to get the damn door unlocked as we speak, and Eddie’s on his way over.” He wedged the phone between his shoulder and ear and wrenched the ancient doorknob with both hands. “I’ll get inside, activate the security measures, and wait for Eddie.”
“Nic—”
Finally, the doorknob gave, clicking free, and he pushed the door open, stepping inside. “I’m not sacrificing Victoria’s safety for mine.”
“You sure about that, Dom?”
The dining room lights flickered on, and all the moisture in Nic’s mouth fled as heat prickled under his skin.
Duncan Vaughn sat at his dining table, spinning a Zippo lighter over a glass of whiskey, Cam’s bottle of Jameson off to the side.
Behind Vaughn stood his usual two henchmen, still bruised from their run-in with Eddie the other night, and they’d brought another goon who was standing in the hallway door.
Their bulk filled the space, making the house seem tinier than it already was, and they were way too close for Nic to draw his weapon and get four shots off before he risked getting shot himself.
“Nic!” Cam yelled, plenty loud now. Then, at someone else, Aidan likely, “Vaughn’s there at the house!”
Moving slow and deliberate, Nic raised his hands, waited for Vaughn to nod, then lowered his bag to the floor and took the phone in hand once more. He forced moisture into his mouth, licking his lips. “Boston, listen to me.”
“Baby!”
The vibrating fear in the shouted endearment almost drove Nic to his knees. Almost. But he couldn’t show that weakness in front of Vaughn.
“I love you, Cameron. If this doesn’t go my way, Aidan knows what to do.
” He’d made those arrangements when he and Cam had gone public with their relationship and moved in together.
One such measure included doubling the insurance on this house, which, with the amount of firepower in here at the moment, literally and figuratively, Nic deemed downright prescient.
Maybe too was this one last call with Cam, with the man who’d brought love into his life again. Who’d given him what he never thought he’d have. “I wanted to marry you, more than anything. Thank you for giving me a family.”
“Christ, baby.” Misery choked Cam’s words. “I love you too, Dominic. I need you to stall one more time today. Fight and stay alive for me. For us.”
“I’ll do my best.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat and switched up their usual sign off. “Sooner, Boston,” he said, getting a choked “Sooner, Price,” in return.
“Touching farewell,” Vaughn said once they’d hung up.
“Hope you took notes,” Nic said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Since you’re the one who’s going to be saying farewell.” He stepped forward and the extra muscle converged, blocking his path.
“Check him for weapons,” Vaughn said. “Then let him through.”
“How’d you get in here?” Nic asked as one of the goons divested him of the Beretta and gave him a full pat down.
“You’re not the only one with hacker contacts.”
Satisfied there were no other weapons on him, the goon stepped back, and Nic approached the table. He withdrew the folded indictment from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Vaughn.
“Duncan Vaughn, you’ve been indicted by the grand jury on charges of racketeering, bank and loan fraud, witness tampering, assault and battery, conspiracy to commit murder, murder, and kidnapping.
A warrant for your arrest has been issued.
Your request for bail has already been denied.
You will be tried, will lose, and will spend the rest of your life in jail. ”
Vaughn picked up the paper, skimmed it once, then refolded it. “You know as well as I do that I have no intention of doing any of that.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Making an example out of you before I leave for parts unknown.”
Nic didn’t duck fast enough, or rather he didn’t anticipate the baton in hallway thug’s hand, extending his reach and clipping Nic across the back of his head. Nic went sprawling across the floor, barely catching himself before his face whacked the hardwood.
Feet approached, a shadow falling over him.
He grabbed the leg of the closest chair, the one that had been glued back together half a dozen times, and swung it forward.
The leg cracked at the breakpoint, the bulk of the flying chair hurtling at the guy in front of Nic, sending him reeling back into the kitchen.
Nic flipped to his back, clutching what remained of the broken chair leg, and jammed the pointy end into the shoulder of the other goon coming down on him.
The attacker crumpled, bent in half, clutching his shoulder.
Using his momentum, Nic flipped back over and scurried low, on hands and knees, into the kitchen, fleeing from the other goon who was fast advancing, weapon drawn.
“No shots!” Vaughn demanded. “He’s mine.”
Well, if bullets were off the table, Nic felt a lot better about his prospects.
At least in the short term. Until the same broken chair came hurtling back at him.
Too high, though, the thug anticipating he’d stand.
He stayed low instead, letting the chair fly overhead and slow the attackers behind him.
“Dead end in there, Dom,” Vaughn taunted.
Technically not—he could flee through the garage door if he had to—but that was a last resort if he couldn’t make use of all the other weapons the kitchen had to offer. To help him stay alive and to help him get Vaughn.
He rocketed to his feet and swung the top oven door down, then did the same on the lower oven, creating more obstacles for the trailing attackers. That done, he spun and grabbed the cast iron skillet off the stovetop. “You really hated my father this much?” he said to Vaughn.
“He took everything,” Vaughn said, as conversationally as could be, never mind Nic was fighting for his life. “I’m returning the favor.”
“He’s dead. How will my death make the bastard any more miserable?”
“I want all trace of his legacy gone.”
Skillet in hand, Nic charged the goon blocking the knives he needed.
He missed on the first swing, the guy dodging, then catching Nic in the side with one punch, in the chin with the next.
The skillet, however, worked as a counterweight, keeping him from tipping backward.
And when the goon aimed a right hook at Nic’s cheek, Nic blocked the hit with the skillet.
Knuckles crashed into the cast iron and the pan went flying out of Nic’s hand, smashing first into the cabinet doors, then to the travertine floor, the crack of wood and stone unmistakable.
The crack of bones in the goon’s hand had been louder, though, and with him bent over cradling it, Nic rammed his elbow to the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
He landed hard, the spiderweb of cracks in the floor spreading.
“I am not part of Curtis’s legacy,” Nic shouted over his shoulder at Vaughn before darting past the fallen body, arm extended for the knife block.
He managed a swipe at it, tipping it on its side, sending knives flying, but then one of the attackers caught up to him, intercepting Nic’s outstretched arm while the other goon grabbed his trailing one.
Nic stumbled forward, chin first, into the granite counter, before falling the rest of the way to the floor, taking it on the chin again from the hard stone floor.
He tasted blood and swore he could even taste the stars bursting behind his eyes.
Next thing he knew, Nic was on his back, arms pinned under him, guards holding him down by the shoulders and legs, as Vaughn loomed over him.
“Your eyes don’t lie, Dom. They’re the same eyes that stole the only person I ever loved.
Every time I look into yours, I see Curtis.
” All trace of the attractive, charming investor was gone—an angry, bitter man in his place.
Nic spat in his face, distracting from his hand closing around one of the knives under him. “And you were going to fuck me?”
“No,” Vaughn said, pressing a knee into his chest. “I would have gotten you right here, under me.” He shoved off his goon’s hand, ramming his own into Nic’s shoulder.
“I would have killed you before it got to the fucking.” Vaughn’s knee in his chest, Nic struggled for air.
“Just like I’m going to kill your sister too. ”
“I don’t think so.” Nic twisted, enough to jostle Vaughn and stab the right-hand goon’s foot.
Vaughn jumped back, and the other thug swung for Nic’s face. Nic rolled into the first who was standing on one leg, his injured foot lifted. Feet taken out from under him, he toppled forward into the goon gunning for Nic, and they went down in a heap.
Nic seized another knife and lunged after Vaughn.
“Not so fast, asshole.” He grabbed him by the ankle, wrestling him to the floor just shy of the dining room hardwood.
Nic vaguely registered someone banging at the front door, calling his name, but his primary objective was eliminating the immediate threat, the one to his family.
Nic wrestled Vaughn to his back, pinning him down.
“You’re never going to stop coming at us, are you? ”
Grin wicked, Vaughn didn’t let an ounce of fear show in his light brown eyes. “Of course I’m not, Dom.” Vaughn still thought he was running this game, even as his breaths grew short and Nic’s knife hovered above him.
It would be so easy to plunge the knife into his carotid and eliminate the threat, once and for all. To never have to look over his shoulder again. To make sure his loved ones were safe. To protect at any and all cost. What was one more number added to the kill count inked on his skin?
Nic gripped the knife tighter, then startled as the timer light in the office to his left clicked on. In the lamp’s halo sat Bird, green eyes big, orange tail swishing across the windowsill, threatening to tip the framed pictures Cam had lined up there.
A photo from Aidan and Jamie’s wedding that Cam had scoured for after Nic had mentioned he regretted not being in the other wedding party ones. Nic was standing next to Aidan, the affection between friends apparent.
Another from Gravity, Nic and Eddie behind the tasting bar together, clinking pint glass rims in a toast.
One of Nic with Cam’s family in Boston, taken after the memorial for Cam’s sister.
A candid Lauren had taken of all of them at her agent swearing-in.
His family. The one Nic had chosen, the ones who’d chosen him.
He’d want to add one of the Sares too—Victoria, Garrett, and Lette—another family he’d just found. A family he wanted to get to know, maybe even be a part of, which wouldn’t happen if he was behind bars.
A picture of Cam’s face when he revealed the tattoo he was going to get on his left hip.
And a big family picture with everyone, maybe taken at his and Cam’s wedding.
A happy ending he’d never get if he took Duncan Vaughn’s life, which if he was being honest, wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as watching him suffer.
And Nic would make sure of that. He’d make sure Vaughn never touched or threatened his family again, but he’d do that—protect them—without also sacrificing his future too.
He wouldn’t cut through the rope.
He flipped the knife, smiling at the fear that flashed in Vaughn’s eyes, the other man misreading his intent. “I think I’d rather watch you lose everything. And for the last fucking time, the name’s Nic.”
He brought the butt of the knife down—short of a deadly blow—but enough to knock Vaughn out.
Sitting back on his haunches, he took a giant breath and tossed the knife aside, just as Eddie, weapon drawn, came barreling around the corner. His dark eyes quickly scanned the area, counting bodies, before landing on him and Vaughn. “Is he dead?”
Nic shook his head. “Incapacitated. Death would be too easy.”
Eddie holstered his pistol and held out a hand, helping him up. Once he stood, a phone was shoved under his nose. “Someone wants to talk to you.”
Before taking Eddie’s, Nic drew out his own phone and opened Moore’s contact info. “Call the AD,” he said, swapping phones. “Tell him to get a team down here stat.”
Eddie nodded, turning to the living room with Nic’s phone, and Nic brought Eddie’s to his ear, the screen telling him who was on the other end.
“Boston.”
“Oh, thank God.” Cam’s relief was as palpable as his earlier misery had been. “Baby, are you okay?”
Nic looked around at the destruction he’d wrought and smiled. He was better than okay. “We’re going to have to remodel a bit.”
Cam’s watery laughter was the best thing he’d heard all day.