Page 41 of Seeking Vengeance
“Widowed.”
Something about the way Ian had said it chilled Sean’s blood. “Tell me.”
“Here. Check this out.” Ian pressed a few keys and sat back far enough so that Sean could clearly see the two PDF documents Ian had brought up.
One was a marriage license for Nicolette Milligan and Corey McMann. Sean looked at the date and did a quick mental calculation. Nicki would have been just sixteen. The other was a death certificate for Corey McMann. Sean sucked in a breath when he saw the date. It was the same as the wedding date.
“What the fuck?” It was a miracle he’d managed to get even those words out.
“Official reports say McMann was shot, execution-style. General consensus was, it had something to do with a local drug dealer, but no one could ever pin anything on him.”
“And Nicki?”
“Eyewitness accounts say she left the scene in an ambulance that was subsequently involved in an accident. Nicki never made it to the hospital.”
“What happened to her?”
“Officially? She was never in the ambulance. She simply ceased to exist. No footprint anywhere in the system until she showed up in Vegas six months ago.”
People did not just fall off the grid for eight years and suddenly appear again, not without some help. Sean knew it. And so did Ian.
“What is she into, Ian?”
Ian shrugged. “That, I don’t know.Yet. But I will.”
* * *
Nicki sighedwhen she heard the knock at the door, the instant thrum in her body telling her exactly who it was. She was astonished it had taken him this long; she’d expected him hours ago. Frankly, when she’d first brought Nick home, she wouldn’t have been surprised to look behind her to see Sean standing right there, ready to follow them in. Sean Callaghan was big and strong and cocky, and his arrogance alone would have justified his presence—at least in his own mind.
He was also a good man who cared more than most, fought for the underdog, and had a bold streak of chivalry. The arrogance, the cockiness, she could handle easily. But this compassionate stuff was some dangerous shit.
She never should have allowed this morning to happen. The moment she had woken up and found herself alone in Sean’s bed, she should have gotten herself the hell out of there. Things would have been so much simpler if he had just fucked her last night instead. Then, she could have blamed the alcohol or the vulnerability that had come with burying her mother while her twin was off, getting high.
But no. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He’d held her. Listened. Said comforting things. Cleaned her up and dressed her in one of those soft, worn shirts that smelled like him—thebastard—before putting her in his bed and leaving her there while he wrestled that fine, huge body of his onto the sofa.
Show no weakness.
Nicki took a deep breath to steel her nerves and then opened the door a few inches. Even though she had expected those laser-like eyes, they still gave her pause. Now, she understood how other people felt when they looked intohereyes.
“May I come in?”
Nicki stifled the shudder that the sound of his voice sent through her. All her traitorous body could remember was how that voice sounded when it was filled with desire and arousal as he was pressed against her skin.
Aloud, she asked, “Do I have a choice?”
“No. I’m just being polite.”
“Well, don’t,” she said, stepping back to allow him to enter. “I have no use for it.”
“Just like wishes then,” he murmured softly.
Nicki ignored the poignant look, the one that offered her peace and comfort and God knew what else, turning away and putting space between them. Sean stepped into the room, sucking up most of the available air. At least, that was how she explained her sudden difficulty in drawing a full breath.
“How’s Nick?”
She exhaled heavily, too weary to conjure up any false pretense. Sean had already seen the shape he was in and undoubtedly put the pieces together. There was nothing to be gained by trying to pretty it up.
“He finally crashed. He’s sleeping it off.”
