Chapter 4
chapter Four
Boy’s Home
Nico
The drive back home was a silent one. The only sound that broke up the six-hour drive was Noah’s babbling. Instead of forcing Tiffany to talk to me, I allowed her to stew in her anger. I will take her silence as long as she is back home with me.
The moment Jake pulled the SUV into our driveway; Ghost is there waiting. He stayed behind when I went to retrieve my wife in order to handle business.
Tiffany’s angry gaze turns to me.
“What is he doing here?”
Now that she knows the truth, I find no reason to hide that part of me anymore.
“Ghost is my second in command.”
She scoffs. “The guy who kidnapped and poisoned me.”
“As I told you, you were never in danger. Ghost wouldn’t have hurt a hair on your head.”
She shakes her head before opening the door and getting out. She slams the door so hard it nearly rocks the car.
Looking down at my son, I see him looking up at me confused.
“Don’t mind your mama, son. She’s a little mad at Daddy, but she will come around soon enough.”
Noah grins, showing me his gums. I unstrapped him from the car seat, and we climb out too.
“How you doing, Ms. Boss Lady?” Ghost kindly asks my wife.
“Go to hell,” she snaps at him before storming up the stairs.
He turns to face me with a puzzled look on his face. I shake my head. We both follow her into the house.
Gloria and Jim, my house staff, greet us at the door.
“Welcome home, Mrs. B.” Jim dips his head in greeting.
“Glad to have you back,” Gloria adds.
I watch as Tiffany grins at them both and tells them how she missed them.
“Okay,” Ghost says lowly from behind me. “I’m feeling a little offended.”
He and I both. I would give anything to have her look at me with that smile and tell me how much she misses me.
I ignore him and try my best to get some type of reaction or conversation going with my wife.
“You can get comfortable. I’ll bring your bags up to our room later.”
She freezes, her shoulders and body growing tight. When she turns around, her gaze is narrowed.
“Our room?” She questions, her head tilted to the side. “If you think for a second, you’re climbing in that bed with me, you have another thing coming.”
Like they are trained to do, Gloria and Jim both disappear the moment they sense things are getting personal.
I have to take a deep breath before I reply to my wife. Her anger is warranted, but not appreciated.
“Where do you think I’m supposed to sleep?”
Her nostrils flare as she stares back at me. “I don’t think you want me to answer that right now.”
We were at war. Not the violent type where only one would come out alive, but a war of wills. One of us had to relent. I could force the matter. There is no doubt I could climb into that bed with her every night and make her accept it, but what would that gain me.
Bowing my head, I toss in the white towel this time.
“Alright. I’ll stay in the guest room…for now.”
She rolls her eyes before coming over and taking Noah from me.
Before she can leave, I grab her arm, turning her back to face me.
The anger in her gaze disturbs me. When I set out on this journey to win Tiffany’s heart, I never thought she would hate me.
I can admit, the way I went about things with her was a bit unorthodox, but my intentions with her have always been good.
To see how much she detests me now makes my stomach feel as if something is trying to claw out of it.
I owed her enough to let her sit in her feelings. I couldn’t rush her to forgiveness. She was allowed to take her time with this. However, I was going to make sure she knew that there was no end to us.
“I love you.”
She cuts her eyes away from me. “I wish I could believe that.”
Her words sting, but I release my hold on her. She spins around on her heels and storms away. I watch her go, wondering how the hell I get my wife back. Once she is out of sight, I head into my office. Ghost is right behind me. Taking a seat behind my desk, I let out a deep breath.
Ghost takes a seat in front of me. “Give her time, Boss. She’s hurt right now. But everyone knows that woman loves you.”
I sit up in my seat. “Love or not, I’m not letting her go.”
That’s the only thing I know for sure. Despite all the shit that we will go through to get back on track, I’m not letting that woman leave.
Picking up the stack of mail on my desk, I peruse through the envelopes.
“How did your meeting go?”
Since I had to collect my wayward wife, I wasn’t able to have the meeting with the other arms dealers, but I’ve been working with Ghost long enough to know he handled my business well.
He leans back. “No leads. They had no idea about any missing shipping containers, and all three wanted me to tell you, you have their support.”
“Three?” I stop scanning the mail in my hands. “I thought there were four?”
He grins. “Well, I had to get my point across with at least one of them. The others fell in line swiftly afterwards.”
I chuckle as I shake my head. “And still no trace of the guns?”
Ghost leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “It seems Mike was telling the truth. The container went missing before that ship showed up at the docks.”
Well, it looks like poor Mike and his crew were innocent.
“A shipping container and four hundred crates don’t just disappear. Those weapons are out there somewhere. Seems to me there’s a leak in my system. We need to find it and eliminate it. Start at the beginning and follow the trail until it disappears.”
I go back to looking over the mail but pause at the envelope in my hands. The white mailer with my real name written across the front has my attention.
“What is it?” Ghost immediately reads my expression.
“Call Gloria in here.”
Ghost hops up from his seat and goes over to the door to call for my housekeeper. Flipping the envelope over, I run my letter opener under the seam.
“Yes, Mr. B?” Gloria asks, drawing my attention from the envelope.
“Where did this come from?” I hold up the white mailer.
“It was dropped off this morning. A carrier brought it to the door. Is everything alright?”
Gloria has been with me for years. She doesn’t know exactly what I do, but she knows enough about my house to know that shit ain’t always legal. If the mail carrier got past the guards and came to my door, there was no way he was unfamiliar.
“He looked legit?” It never hurts to ask.
“Yes.” She nods. “The boys at the front gate checked his credentials.”
I dip my chin, dismissing her. She walks out of my office. Flipping the envelope back open, I pull out the contents of the package.
Hello again, Nicholas,
By now you’ve figured out your supposed brothers haven’t received a letter. Don’t worry, their time is coming. For now, it’s just you and me. No need to spread myself too thin or use all my resources at once.
I wonder if you’ve gotten your wife back yet, Nicholas? She is such a beautiful woman. I truly envy you. Your mother and father would be proud.
I know that brings you peace. That was always your concern, right? You wanted to make them proud of you since you’re the one that sent them for that extra stop.
At least, that’s what the records say. They also say you were an angry child, filled with guilt and shame. And very handsome.
I didn’t finish the letter. My heart is racing so fast I have to shut my eyes and take deep breaths.
“Boss, you okay?” Ghost calls out to me, but I can’t answer him.
My world is spinning, and I’m no longer in my office. I’m not a thirty-five-year-old billionaire with a hotel empire. I am an eight-year-old boy sitting in a small office with pale yellow walls. The smells of cinnamon, nicotine and clove surround me.
My hands are placed between my knees. The holes in my pants have gotten bigger.
I look down at my scuffed, plain white sneakers.
So much of my life has changed in six months.
I went from a carefree kid who had everything he wanted to a kid in scuffed, too small tennis shoes and pants with holes in them.
“Look at me, Nicholas.”
Lifting my gaze, I find the dark blue eyes of Mr. Howard.
His gaze is locked on me. I take in his features. His nose is a little too big for his face. His lips are always pulled up in a smile. The beard and mustache are neatly trimmed. His dark blonde hair is medium length and cut in a way that was made to look messy and carefree.
Mr. Howard wasn’t as old as a lot of the teachers and other staff here at the boy’s home.
He was maybe in his late twenties. He wore jeans with holes in them and buttoned-up shirts with tank tops under them.
His black Doc Marten boots were laced up tight.
You could sometimes find him playing hacky sack on the front lawn or wearing a leather jacket in the summer.
He was one of the cooler staff members and a lot nicer than most.
“Why do you feel like you’re the one at fault?”
I turn away from Mr. Howard. I hated when he asked me questions like this.
“I’m the one who asked for them to bring me a burger back. They were on their way to get it for me when they smashed into that tree.”
On the night my mother and father were killed in that car accident, they were going out for their usual weekend drive.
Every Sunday, they would take an hour’s drive up to a lookout point to have a little alone time.
That night, I had asked them to bring me back a burger from my favorite fast-food place.
They died only seven minutes from that stop.
“Accidents are called accidents because they happen unexpectedly and unintentionally. They are no one’s fault. Rather your parents were going to get your food or coming home, the accident would’ve happened, regardless.”
Even though Mr. Howard says this, it doesn’t help ease my guilt. Anthony tells me I shouldn’t talk to Mr. Howard. He says not to tell him anything, but I have to talk. I have to get this off my chest. If I don’t, it will boil over and explode just like it did that day in school. It’s why I’m here.
“I don’t know.”
The smile on Mr. Howard’s face grows. He stands from his chair and walks over to the front of his desk where I’m sitting. Leaning his back against the wooden desk, he smiles down at me.
“The police reports say there was an issue with the brakes. No matter where they were going, they would’ve crashed.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Now, I don’t want you blaming yourself. You’re too handsome to stress over things you can’t control.”
His hand lingers on my shoulder as he chuckles down at me. An uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I had no idea why at the time. If only I’d listened to Anthony.
“Nico, babe. Look at me.”
I come out of my haze. The sound of my wife’s voice bringing me out of my past like a beacon of light in darkness.
I’m in my office, sitting in my chair. Those pale-yellow walls are gone. The stagnant cigarette smoke is no more. I’m no longer that eight-year-old boy trapped in hell.
Tiffany is in front of me with her hands cupping my face. Her gaze watching me closely. I look away from her to find Ghost standing behind her. Even he looks concerned. Roc is at the door; his arms folded over his chest like he’s ready to fight an imaginary enemy.
I place my attention back on Tiffany. For the first time since she saw that video, the look on her face is something other than anger and disappointment.
The love and concern I know is buried under her anger is shining back at me.
However, knowing why she’s looking at me the way she does makes me feel sick.
So sick, I nearly vomited. I knock her hands away from my face and shoot to my feet.
“I’m fine,” I snarl.
She slowly stands up. That sad and concerned look was still there.
“Nico, you just had a panic attack and damn near blacked out. You’re not fine. What happened?”
Placing even more space between us, I walk around her. “You’ve been ignoring me all day, and now you want to talk?”
I was being a dick, but I’d much rather her be angry at me than have her sympathy.
I’m not some fucking victim, I don’t need her concern.
Tiffany watches me closely, as if she’s not buying what I’m selling.
She then turns away from me, looking at my desk.
When she spots the letter, she tries to pick it up.
I move so quickly, I could be a fucking Olympic sprinter. I snatch the paper out of her hands.
“Don’t touch my shit,” I bark.
Her face falls. I have never yelled at her like this. Hell, I’ve never talked to her the way I am. But she can’t see that letter. She can’t know my past or the hell I endured in that fucking place. My heart is racing so fast my ears are ringing from the sound.
Tiffany lifts her chin. The tears that were only moments ago dancing under her eyes dry up.
“Whatever you say, Saint.” She turns and storms out of my office.
We all watch her go. Ghost turns to me and lifts a brow. I know he has a lot to say, but thankfully he doesn’t speak.
“Find that fucking mail carrier,” I snarl the demand.
Ghost and Roc nod their heads as they walk out of my office. It has been years since I thought of my time at William Bone’s. My brothers and I buried our past in that place the day we walked away from it. But as the saying goes, the past won’t stay buried forever.