One to Leave (One to Hold 5)

Two weeks.

Until then, I had to fight.

* * *

Nikki’s hair was messy and swept over one shoulder, and her green wrap dress was loose on her body, unlike earlier in the day. She’d kicked off her heels, and the whole disheveled thing actually did it for me. An image flickered across my mind of grasping her face and kissing her roughly, tasting those pink lips, but I brushed it aside.

“Come in! I’ve got chicken and sausage gumbo in the slow cooker. Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

A small laugh followed her as she led me into her apartment, where the rich aroma of meat hit me right in the face. A responsive growl from my stomach—another good sign. Appetite gone, I’d been forcing myself to eat for weeks.

“It does smell good.”

She walked into the kitchen and took the lid off a pot to give the contents a poke. “I got the recipe online. The aroma’s right, but it’s supposed to be thicker... I think I made more of a soup.” She laughed again. “Gumbo’s like soup, isn’t it?”

“Sure.”

Her mood was so happy, it itched the agitation under my skin. Advil helped with my cramps, but I could tell the shakes were only a half-hour away at most.

The pain radiating from my pelvis down my legs was impervious to everything. My spinal column had been damaged in the blast. It healed, but when the residual pain was at its worst, I couldn’t run. It was why I’d been forced to retire.

I’d tried massage therapy, then a chiropractor, but those treatments didn’t last. I needed the pain to stop for good so I could return to active duty. Narcotic-based pain relief was the only thing that worked, and I’d had an easy time finding willing doctors to give me scripts, over and over for as long as I wanted.

The pain disappeared, and even the freaking nightmares stopped. For the first time in a long time, I felt peace, like my old self again. It was a miracle drug.

Until it became a nightmare.

She handed me a tumbler of amber liquid. “They were out of Johnnie Walker. I hope Dewar’s is okay?”

I nodded and took a sip of the scotch. “You have a good memory.”

She held a glass of red wine, and slanted her blue eyes at me. “I remember a lot of things.”

I watched her a moment, but I didn’t take the bait. “Yeah?”

Her face fell just a click, but she exhaled and took a sip. “Like I remember you hate being cooped up in an office. What brought you back this time?”

The truth? I had to beat this addiction before it killed me... I’d keep that to myself.

“I founded Alexander-Knight with Derek. I should at least try to hold up my end of the agreement.” It was a good-sounding lie.

“Patrick’s doing a great job holding up the Knight end of the agreement. Have you talked to him?”

“I don’t talk to Patrick.” The mention of my little brother stirred my agitation even more. “We have nothing in common.”

“That’s not true. You’re both handsome devils.” She winked and headed back to the kitchen. “And you should see your little nephew Lane. He’s following right in your lady-killing footsteps.”

“Right.” I took another sip of scotch. “Patrick got some girl pregnant.”

“Kenny.” She put her wine down and pulled a loaf of French bread from a long paper bag. I watched as she sliced it into thick pieces. “She’s just over in Bayville. Maybe you could catch a ride with her next time she goes to Wilmington for a visit.”

I had no intention of doing that. “He didn’t marry her.”

“I think it was the right call.” She was now spooning chicken, sausage, and rice into bowls. “They’re very different people, and he had already moved on when she told him she was pregnant. You’ll really like Elaine.”

All this talk about Patrick made my stomach churn. My little brother had always been a fuck-up, and clearly he hadn’t matured out of it. I lifted my tumbler and caught the tremor in my wrist. Fuck.

“Mind if I use your restroom?” I needed to pop a few more Advil and take a few deep breaths.