Page 58 of Nicoli

Strong arms wrap around me, and I’m too weak to fight. Too weak to scream. There’s pain everywhere, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.

A familiar warmth penetrates the fog, slowly spreading all over my skin.

“I got you, Hummingbird. I got you.”

ChapterTwenty

NICOLI

Two black SUVs crush rock into the gravel as they speed up the driveway behind me. They tailed me from the club in case I got in trouble along the way. I had Maximo on speaker telling me which route to take home, detailing where he had security in place.

I’ve never driven this car so fast. The smell of burnt rubber fills my nose as I help Mira out of the back seat.

“I’m fine, Nicoli,” she whispers as I pick her up and start carrying her inside.

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t have to carry me. I can walk.”

“I don’t care if you can run a fucking marathon.”

I hear our fleet of bulletproof Hummers pull up outside, tires screeching as they stop short of ramming up the front entrance steps. The moment shit hit the fan at the club, Maximo had the Hummers there in a fucking flash, ditching the limousine and getting everyone out of there.

Maximo comes charging in, his face drawn. “Is she okay?” His worried gaze lands on her. “You okay, Mirabella?”

“I’m okay.”

I don’t stick around to enjoy a precious family reunion with everyone shooting up prayers of thanks. My only concern is this woman I’m carrying, and I need to take care of her.

I rush up the stairs, clutching Mira’s shivering body tight, storming straight to my bedroom, slamming the door closed with my foot and darting to the bathroom. Carefully, I set her down, and I’m finally able to look at her, going over every inch of her to make sure she’s okay. After I picked her up from the sidewalk outside the club, my only concern was getting her the hell away from there.

Her wet hair is stained with blood, splatters sticking to her shoulders, and I have no idea if it’s hers or the fucker I left dead on the sidewalk. Her cheeks are soaked in tears, and she’s shivering, her teeth clattering and waxy skin covered with goosebumps.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” I say and quickly turn on the shower so it can warm up.

She’s sniffing as I ease the dress off her shoulders, careful not to hurt her. My heart drops to my stomach when I see scratch marks around her neck, and it’s like her pain is mine. Her agony is mine. Everything she’s feeling, I’m feeling, too.

I pull off my shoes and yank the fabric of my shirt, buttons flying and bouncing off the tiled floor like little spiders scurrying around our feet, and I guide Mira into the shower. She gasps as the warm water hits her cold skin but makes no move to pull away. I’m right behind her, watching the blood that sticks to her shoulders slowly run down her back in tears of red. The water turns a sickly pink, swirling around our feet and disappearing down the drain.

I place my hand on her back, and she flinches. It fucking breaks me to see her react that way to my touch. I don’t ever want her to be afraid of me or cower from me in any way. I’d rather eat glass like our friend Ruben.

I start to lather soap into her hair, gently massaging her scalp as I get rid of the sticky blood. Soap scented with sandalwood fills the steam that envelops us, and a large part of me relishes knowing she’ll smell like me now—another way of letting the world knows she’s mine.

I let her turn to face me, easing her under the pelting water and gliding my hands all over her body, getting rid of the suds.

Mira closes her eyes as fresh tears run down her face, and I tip her chin upward. “Look at me, Hummingbird.”

Forest green eyes glimmer under the warm light, the whites of her eyes red from crying. What I’m about to ask her is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to ask anyone, but I have to. I can’t take care of her if I don’t know.

“Did he…” The words are like barbed wire slicing up my chest. “Was I too late?”

She shakes her head, pressing her lips tight as more tears fall. “No.”

“Jesus. Thank God.” I pull her close, circling my arms around her naked shoulders and pressing her against me so tight I’m probably hurting her. But I can’t stop myself. I need her closer than close.

When she leans her head against my chest, wrapping her arms around my middle, I suck in a breath. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for letting you think I don’t love you. Sorry I pushed you away, that I made you feel less than what you’re worth to me.” Her quiet sobs pierce my heart like a thousand daggers, and I swallow hard. “I’m sorry for what happened with Paula. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you back in the shower.” I close my eyes, allowing every emotion to finally pour out of me. “And I’m so fucking sorry I left you alone outside that club, Hummingbird. I shouldn’t have walked away from you. I shouldn’t have ever walked away from you.”

Soft sobs turn into pained whimpers, and all I can do is hold her. There are no words that can right the wrongs I’ve done. There aren’t enough apologies in the world that can justify her ever forgiving me. I won’t dare to ask it of her.

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