Chapter 26
RILEY
“Miss VanHorn is being held without bail, and she’ll be going to trial for hiring a hitman,” the officer tells me, his voice droning on along with the beeping of the monitors around me. “I have no doubt Mr. D’Amico’s lawyers will ensure she gets put away, ma’am.”
It should probably be a relief, but I never really had any doubt that Sloane would pay for what she did. Nick wouldn’t let her walk away without a scratch, no matter what connections she’s managed to scrounge up.
Not after what she almost cost him.
Not after what she did cost him.
“Okay.” I haven’t made eye contact with him since he introduced himself, still in too much of a tailspin to feel like anything is really okay yet. “And Nick? Is he…”
I can’t even finish the sentence, too scared to put the thought of him going to jail out into the ether.
He was protecting me. I would have died if he didn’t do what he did.
I’ve been in the nicest hospital I’ve ever seen for half a week, being monitored and tested and treated for my head wound and the various cuts and bruises.
It could have been so much worse than the minor concussion and top-of-the-line doctors I wound up with.
I can’t stand the thought of not being able to see Nick again after everything that happened.
If he gets put away for saving my life, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Bruno D’Amico’s death has been ruled as self-defense,” the cop says. “No one is facing any charges.”
He doesn’t sound particularly thrilled about that, green eyes flat with disapproval, my fingers twisting uncomfortably in the stiff hospital sheets as I realize what’s happening.
Lucy might be the one handling everything, or it may be Nick himself, but clearly the D’Amico family has some hand in cleaning this whole mess up.
As much as the thought of Nick using his mafia ties to keep himself out of trouble unsettles me, I can’t deny that I’m glad for it right now. I couldn’t bear to lose him after all of this.
“Thank you,” I say softly, smiling weakly at the officer. “I appreciate you coming by to tell me all this.”
He nods sharply, a tight smile on his thin lips.
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” he says, tugging his cap back over his buzzed brown hair. “You and your boyfriend will likely get a call from us in the next week to tie up some final details.”
My boyfriend.
Is Nick my boyfriend? It feels kind of presumptuous to say that without even talking to him about it.
After everything that’s happened, the term also feels kind of juvenile.
Whatever, that’s not something for me to think about right now.
“We’ll make sure to be available,” I promise, even though I have no clue how Nick will want to handle this.
“Just be sure to only answer calls from numbers you recognize,” he warns. “It’s a good idea to keep your head down for now. Money goes a long way with keeping the media quiet, and I’d advise you not to waste a chance to keep your name out of things.”
With that, he turns to take his leave, and I take a deep, steadying breath.
It’s finally over. There’s nothing left to worry about except for my relationship with Nick, and I can’t pretend that I’m conflicted on what to do anymore.
I know what I want, and it’s Nick.
One of the nurses comes in and unhooks me from the machines, placing my discharge papers and a set of clothes from the gift shop on the edge of the bed before telling me to go home and get some rest. As ready as I am to get out of here, the thought of going home sends a chill down my spine.
Logically, I know there’s nothing to be scared of anymore, but the memory of opening my front door to Bruno’s smiling face is enough to scare me off.
I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable being alone there again.
I quickly change into the clothes the nurse brought for me, debating where to go.
Taylor’s is the obvious choice, even though she’ll be at work for another few hours.
She’s stopped by every night after she gets off, keeping me in the loop with everything and distracting me from it all when I need it.
It seems like a waste to go sit in her living room when she’s not even there, and I haven’t seen Nick since I passed out in Bruno’s torture shed.
Taylor said he wasn’t allowed to visit me while I was here since the investigation was still ongoing, but I want to see his face again so badly it hurts. All I know is that he’s been waiting in the lobby the entire time, grilling her for details on my condition every night when she leaves.
It’s been nearly four days, so I can’t imagine he’s still there, and the decision to head over to his place comes easily.
Taylor brought me my phone and charger, so I snag them and place them into the small baggie the nurse left my discharge paperwork in and head toward the elevator. The trip doesn’t take long, but by the time I reach the lobby, I find myself coming to a complete stop.
Nick is tucked away in a secluded corner, his beard grown out, his hair tousled like he’s been running his hands through it non-stop.
He’s slumped over in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, looking like he’s about a quarter of a second away from passing out, but he glances up and scans the lobby after a few seconds.
His eyes pass over me and then snap back, widening in relief as he shoves out of his seat so fast he stumbles over his own feet.
The entire world fades out as he rushes over, the chatter of everyone else waiting going silent as my focus narrows down entirely to the brilliant smile on his handsome face.
“Riley,” he breathes out shakily as he tugs me into a crushing hug. “Thank God you’re okay.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face into his chest and soaking in the comforting warmth of him as tears prick at my eyes.
“Pretty sure I have you to thank for that, not God,” I joke.
He laughs along with me even as he pulls back, cupping my unbruised cheek with a calloused palm. His steely eyes flit over my injuries, anger and regret etched into the lines of his face, but they fade when he meets my eyes again, replaced with pure affection.
“I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat,” he promises, stroking his thumb along my cheekbone.
My heart twinges in sympathy, sorrow threatening to close my throat up as I reach up to squeeze his hand, tangling our fingers together.
An apology wouldn’t help; it wouldn’t fix anything. I know he wouldn’t accept it anyway. None of this was my fault at the end of the day, but I wish I could go back and stop it from happening.
I’d do anything to stop him from hurting.
“How are you holding up?” I ask softly, squeezing his fingers between mine. “With… everything.”
His hand twitches against my face, but he tugs me closer with the arm around my waist, sighing like the press of my body against his soothes some unseen wound.
“Better now that I can see you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re so beautiful, Riley.”
I can’t help but laugh at him, rolling my eyes. I’m a mess, and we both know it. The bruise on my jaw is a sickly yellow, slowly fading as it heals, and my nose is still swollen, with dark circles beneath both my eyes from a combination of bruising and exhaustion.
The way he looks at me makes me believe that he means it. Still, I don’t want platitudes right now. I want him to be honest with me. I want to take care of him.
“Nick,” I warn, giving him a stern look.
He sighs fondly, shaking his head even as a sad smile tugs at his lips.
“It’s been hard,” he admits softly. “It’s easier with you.”
My heart trips over itself in my chest, and I untangle my free hand from around his waist to cup his cheek, scratching through the overgrown stubble there.
“I guess I’ll just have to stick around then,” I say with a wry twist of my lips, gazing up at him adoringly. “To make it easier on you, ya’know?”
A bright laugh slips from Nick’s lips as he tugs me forward to kiss me until we’re both breathless. It’s as gentle as either of us can manage right now, careful of my bruises but too desperate for each other to let them stop us.
“You’re sure?” he breathes out against my lips, staring deep into my eyes. “This is your only chance to back out, Princess. I’m not letting you go after this.”
I don’t even have to think about it.
Every part of me—body, mind, soul—knows this is right.
“I’m sure,” I whisper back, smiling brightly up at him. “I can’t imagine a life without the man I love.”
It leaves me breathless to say, and it seems to knock the wind out of Nick too. He freezes for a moment before crushing me against his chest, a wicked grin creasing his face.
“Say it right,” he demands.
I laugh, smiling so wide my face hurts.
“I love you,” I tell him, my chest swelling with warmth and need at the way his eyes shine. “I love you, and you damn well better love me back.”
I know he does.
It was the last thing I heard before I passed out in his arms.
Even if he hadn’t said it, it’s written clear as day across his face right now.
“I like this confidence, Miss Morgan,” he teases, a laugh on his breath as he untangles our fingers so he can run his hand through my hair. “I love you,” he confirms, sure and steady. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything, Riley, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My breath catches in my lungs, my mind going blank as the weight of his words hits me in full.
“You better not be proposing to me without a ring,” I say breathlessly. “Or in a hospital.”
His laugh is loud and carefree, and I find myself collapsing into a fit of giggles in his arms, so overwhelmed by joy that I can hardly catch my breath.
“Yes, ma’am,” he jokes, leaning down to kiss me through his chuckles. “Let’s go pick a ring out so I can do it properly then.”
It’s only by sheer luck that I don’t burst into tears right there.
“God, I fucking love you.”
“And I love you, Princess.”