And he would, as soon as he fulfilled his promise to Tony. Last time he left, he did so based on the assumption that Nikki would be fine without him. He’d been so wrapped up in himself and his mistakes that he’d made another one.
He’d left without checking facts, a damn stupid move for an ex-cop. He’d promised Tony that he’d make sure his family was okay. Before he dropped out of sight again, he intended to make sure he accomplished his goal.
* * *
Nikki Welles grabbed her fake fur coat from the hook in the back hall and glanced around the empty bar once more. Not a customer or ex-lover in sight. Apparently things hadn’t changed. He still made his getaway before facing her one-on-one. She fought back the recurring wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her. For a change, she hadn’t taken the time to eat before work and the greasy food at the bar didn’t appeal to her weak stomach.
Ever since her brother’s death, she was lightheaded and woozy most of the time. Similar to when her parents had died, but much, much worse. She and Tony had been very close... and now she had no one but Janine. At one time she thought she’d have Kevin, but he hadn’t cared enough to stick around, and obviously that hadn’t changed.
His generous tip didn’t ease the insult; it merely heightened it, especially since she hadn’t earned the money. He’d taken up space at her station and paid her for nothing. As if he felt sorry for her. The thought brought back painful memories she believed she’d put behind her. Of the morning she’d woken up in his apartment, alone in his bed.
At first she’d thought he was somewhere around. Then, not wanting to believe the worst, she convinced herself he’d gone down to pick up breakfast for them both. She’d even set the table, pulled on the shirt he’d left near the bed and curled up to wait. Only after an embarrassing amount of time had passed did she accept the truth. He considered her a mistake and he’d left her in his apartment rather than face her the morning after, probably giving her time to gather her things and leave before he returned. Just the memory brought back the rush of shame she’d felt at the time, but only for a moment. Because Kevin Manning wasn’t worth it... even if he still looked sexy enough to knock her off her feet. She’d never go there again.
She wrapped her coat around her and headed for the door. “Sure you don’t want to wait five?” one of the bartenders asked as she passed.
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine.” She waved good night and ducked into the cool night air before he could argue. The taxi routinely picked her up on the corner of the one way street. Most nights one of the guys kept her company on her walk, but tonight she wanted to be alone. She needed to think about what Kevin’s return meant for her future and what form of revenge would work best on the sister-in-law who had betrayed her.
She exhaled, watching the puff of air hover and disappear. With the chill in the air, she found it hard to believe spring was on the way. She bowed her head down and walked to the corner, her hand wrapped around the pepper spray she kept in her coat pocket as a precaution. The streets were quiet, but the guys at work had taught her never to take safety for granted. From the beginning they’d looked on her as their naive kid sister, which, for the most part, she had been. They’d taught her how to flirt when appropriate, duck a come-on when necessary, and how to take care of herself.
As she reached the corner, someone grabbed her arm and she swung around, pepper spray in her other hand. As quickly as she’d turned, she found herself disarmed and pulled against a lean, hard body, her face pressed against cold leather. Heart pounding, throat dry, she grappled for a way out and remembered the night’s tips tucked safely inside her boots. She wondered if her attacker would be satisfied with that or if he wanted something more. Something she wouldn’t willingly give.
Before she could process that thought, he released her. She stumbled backward and looked up to see Kevin, pepper spray in hand and a dark scowl on his face.
She drew in a ragged breath. The cold air did nothing to calm her nerves or her shaking hands. Even as she glared at him, she couldn’t help the awareness that shot through her veins. He hadn’t changed. He oozed sex appeal and raw danger. With his dark hair, razor stubble and black leather jacket, he was a part of the streets and the black night that stretched out before them. He was a loner, belonging on his own, much more than he’d ever belong to anyone else. She’d been foolish to hope he’d ever be hers.
“I didn’t believe those rumors until I saw you in the bar,” she said when she’d caught her breath. “You have resurfaced.”