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Nick

“Tell me again why Miss Valdez called you before calling 9-1-1?”

“Like you said, I’ve already explained multiple times,” I snap. The lawyer the team sent over clears her throat from the end of the sofa, a sign she wants me to answer the question. Except I’ve answered it three times already. I resist the urge to flip off the detective. The woman is doing her job. Gathering my composure, I say evenly, “I don’t know.”

“Can you elaborate?” The detective—her nametag says Ramos—poises her pen on her notebook as if waiting for something revelatory to fall from my lips.

“I don’t know. I’m guessing because she was afraid that her attacker would hurt her again.”

“And what’s your personal relationship with Miss Valdez?”

“She’s my fiancé,” I lie.

The lawyer starts to choke. The detective’s pen skitters off the edge of her notebook. Across the room, at the kitchen table, Lainey’s head pops up. She’s too far away to hear us, but she must see something in my face or something in the detective’s face that makes her eyes narrow. Her suspicious expression makes me want to smile.

That’s right, sweetheart. No backing out now. It’ll be in all the newspapers.

It’s a shitty thing to do, bind her to me in a way she can’t back away from, but we’ve danced around it for too long. We might as well dump all our baggage into one giant pile and let the vultures pick through it.

The detective recovers first. “Congratulations,” she says. “No ring, though? I’d have thought your three month’s salary would have conjured something with a little more…bling.”

We both glance at Lainey’s ring less left hand resting on her thigh.

“The ring’s being resized,” I answer, eyes still locked with Lainey’s. Hers are full of accusation. I press my lips tighter together to prevent the inappropriate smile.

She looks vexed which is a hundred times better than the shocked and half-terrified expression she wore when I busted in thirty minutes ago. Her irritated face turns pained as the emergency tech swabs a tender spot on Lainey’s head. Seeing the pain on her face drains all my humor away.

“What jeweler did you say?” the detective prods.

“I didn’t.” Suddenly, I’m in a rush to get this over with. “Any more questions?”

The lawyer senses my annoyance and jumps in before I can make a mess of things. “It’s a clear case of self-defense,” she argues. “The deceased was fired today. Angered, he came directly here and decided to assault his replacement’s fiancé. She fought back and in the ensuing struggle, the deceased was killed.”

I like that she didn’t use Chip’s name. He doesn’t deserve it. He’ll be forgotten, nothing more than a has-been, a footnote to my life and Lainey’s.

Tap tap goes the pen. “Why was he fired?”

“You should ask the front office. My client doesn’t make those decisions,” the lawyer stands up to signal that the interview is over.

Detective Ramos snaps her notebook shut. “I’ll be in touch. A man’s dead, so it’s not as if we can just zip his body up and call it a day.”

Why not?

“That’s exactly what you can do,” the lawyer says. “Everyone in Texas knows that the Castle Defense doctrine is held sacrosanct by juries. Ms. Valdez was in her home; she was being physically attacked. The law presumes she acted in self-defense. Even if you wanted to bring a case, you wouldn’t win.”

Ramos considers this for a moment and then turns to me. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns.

“I’m playing on Sunday.” I spread my hands out. “Where would I be going?”

She scowls. “We’re not going to treat this case any differently just because you’re Nick Jackson.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

The detective gives me one last glare before striding across the room to speak with Lainey. I start forward only to be hauled back by the lawyer. Her nails bite into my arm.

“Don’t ruin all your play acting now by rushing to her side,” the polished blonde says out of the side of her mouth.

I force myself to relax. I watch as the detective asks Lainey a few more questions. The EMT guy presses something into Lainey’s hand. If it’s his number, they’re going to need a second body bag.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, everyone is finally out. Including us. Lainey’s condo is a crime scene. Good thing I live upstairs.

“I’m so glad Cassidy is up with Charlie and your parents,” Lainey says as we wait for the elevator to return from the lobby.

My knees buckle. I hadn’t thought of that. I reach out a hand and steady myself against the wall. “Thanks for that. I was wrecked before, and now I think you’re going to have to wheel me upstairs.”

Amused, she raises a hand to the top of her head where there’s a little bald spot. “I’ve had better days.”

We stare at each other for a moment, lost in a moment of silent gratitude.

“Sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” I say as the elevator doors slide open.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She shudders. “I’m done with people poking and prodding me.”

In my condo, I lead her down the hallway to my bedroom and hustle her into the attached bathroom. Inside the medicine chest, I find a bottle of painkillers. I tap out two into my palm and then pour a glass of water.

“Take these.”

“Yes sir.” She salutes like a smartass but swallows the pills. “I can refill them with this.” She waves the paper in her hand. It’s a script for Vicodin.

“The emergency tech gets to live another day,” I quip. She winces. “Too soon?” I ask.

“A little.” She leans toward the mirror. “Is there blood in my hair?”

I part the hair carefully. “A little bit.” I lift her onto the vanity and turn on the faucet. “Does it hurt much?”

“Hurt more when it was being pulled out. It’s just an ache now.”

I carefully dab a lukewarm cloth onto her head, watching her closely for any wince.

“Hell of a way to start the season,” she murmurs, leaning her head against my chest.

“Yup.” There’s no point in denying it. The newspapers are going to go crazy. Blogs, talk radio, even the sports channels will all be talking about this. “Let them. I don’t care. “ I rinse out the washrag and wipe it across her cheeks where tears of anger and fear smeared her makeup. Part of me would like to go down to the morgue, or wherever Chip’s body is, and shoot a few more bullets into his corpse.

“Everyone’s going to say this is a complete circus.”

“I agree. It’s salacious, and until the season starts, it’ll be the top news story in all of sports.”

“That sucks.”

I shrug. “If it wasn’t this, it’d be something else. Let them talk. Once we win, they’ll shut up about it.”

“As if you need more incentive.” She knows the pressure is on this year and that’s why I fought this relationship for so long.

“Maybe I did. I played well last year because I had something to prove. This year, I’ve a new challenge. New motivation.” I’m not going to run away from someone as amazing as Lainey. With her beside me, I’m a stronger player and a better person. “Now hush up, because we’re going to bed.” I toss the rag into the sink and then hoist her into my arms. She curls her body into mine, hugging me tight.

“You’re getting to be bossy.”

“Yes.” Keeping one hand under her frame, I use the other to pull down the covers.

“You gonna be like this for the rest of our lives?”

I pause in the midst of pulling her bottoms off, take a deep, joyful breath, and then continue on, pretending that she didn’t just rock my world. “Probably.”

“We’re going to fight,” she warns. Her arms come up so I can pull off her shirt. “I can be bossy myself.”

“You don’t say,” I reply deadpan. She delivers a weak swat across my chest. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

“Why’re we going to bed?” She asks. “It’s six o’clock.”

“I told you. I’m wrecked.” I’m not even joking. Arriving at the apartment, the first thing I laid eyes on was blood in the hallway. My heart was in my throat as I stepped over Chip’s body to get into Lainey’s bedroom. Finding her huddled against the nightstand, the gun between her legs, is going to haunt my nightmares for weeks.

I shuck all my clothes, keeping my boxer briefs on, and climb into bed with her. Her hand immediately drifts down to the elastic waistband. I catch her fingers and pull them up to my mouth.

“Not tonight,” I say.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m traumatized.”

She laughs softly but snuggles close. “Let’s not do a big wedding like Charlotte and your brother. Let’s get Cassidy and go to City Hall. We can have a big celebration when Nate gets back. Maybe in the summer.”

“That’s good for me.”

“Your parents might be upset,” she warns.

“So? This is our love story. We’re doing it our way. They can marry Nate and Charlie again if they need to have another wedding.”

“Did you really buy me a ring?”

I pull away slightly to look at her in surprise. “Did you hear me?”

“Nah, I read your lips,” she admits.

“Huh. I best be careful in the future,” I tease.

“You know it.”

“I figured we could pick one out together. We’re a team now,” I tell her. “Let’s get you something gaudy. I mean if they’re going to talk about us, let’s give them something really worthwhile.”

Her laughter loosens up the remaining tightness in my chest. All’s well in our world. Chip’s gone. We’re in love. It doesn’t matter what happens in the upcoming season. I’ve already won.

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