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Chapter Thirty-Six

Nancy

I stared, unseeing, out the window of my apartment from my place on the futon.

It was dark inside but for the faint city glow that sneaked through the window, but I couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on lights.

It scared me now, to advertise my presence there.

I should probably just sleep, but I was too tired to wrestle the couch down into a bed.

I should have been at the cathedral uptown, where Cantate Domino, my female medieval and Renaissance musical ensemble, was having their big New York concert debut.

They were singing the works of Hildegarde Von Bingen.

It was a beautiful program, and a very important gig for them.

Their first established classical concert series.

A big step forward. I should be there to support them.

But I couldn’t even get up. Let alone dress, comb my hair, put on my game face, get myself uptown, chat, smile, schmooze.

My ass was weighted down like I was made of lead.

The ensemble understood, of course. Everybody was extremely understanding these days after my near-death episode in the parking lot of the Amory Lodge. They were also treating me like blown glass after seeing me cut Peter and Enid loose.

That had shocked the bejesus out of everyone on my client list.

And Peter and Enid, oh God. They would not let up. My voicemail was full of pleading, wheedling messages. Surprise, surprise—they’d already alienated two new potential managers with those same egregious personality disorders that I’d spent years justifying and excusing.

But it was a no-brainer for me. I was done with that soul-sucking bullshit forever. Maybe it was childish and unprofessional to walk away. It certainly hadn’t been a great financial move.

I didn’t care. A person learned the lesson, with the requisite pain and suffering, and then she hung on to whatever she’d learned. She made it worthwhile.

At least that was the pep talk I kept trying to give myself.

The events in Boston had laid my pathetic emotional stratagems bare. I’d been scrambling for love all these years, and I only knew this because finally, I’d gotten some. Just a taste. Enough to know what it felt like.

I’d been better off not knowing.

I had earned no love from all my heroic efforts all these years. Love couldn’t be earned, or God knows I would have more of it.

Lucia had tried in so many ways to make me understand that, but no one could have protected me from myself. No wonder Lucia had tried to match me up with Liam. She’d wanted me to have a man I could lean on. A man with something significant to bring to the table.

The joke was on me. Liam was plenty solid. Like an outcropping of volcanic granite.

And amazingly, he’d stepped up again, even after our apocalyptic fight.

He’d heroically saved me from Snake Eyes.

So they told me. I hadn’t been conscious to see it.

He’d snatched me from the jaws of death, seen me to the hospital, and then, duty fulfilled, he’d shaken the dust off his boots and walked off into the sunset.

Not a word from the man. Not a peep.

I was a miserable mess. I’d been crashing at Nell’s place in Williamsburg for the first couple of weeks afterward, but the close quarters were driving us bananas.

We were stumbling over each other, and Moxie was stressed and disoriented, too.

I loved my sisters, but their intense worry for me was wearing me down.

I’d risked coming back here tonight just for some sweet solitude. Just to enjoy the quiet, even though I was too scared to so much as turn on a lamp.

The doctors said that it would take a while for the anxiety to ease off. The pills they’d prescribed were rattling around in my purse, but I hadn’t tried taking them. All I had were my feelings. I didn’t want to cut myself loose from those, too.

Besides. I needed to be razor sharp, if Snake Eyes came calling. I’d gotten myself some pepper spray and a stun baton. Maybe I was fooling myself, but damn, I was not going down without a fight if he came after me again.

And Snake Eyes had taken my precious necklace. A fresh insult, and a fresh new disaster. It was a third of that key that Lucia had alluded to. We had not yet even begun to solve the puzzle, and now we never would. So this fear, stress, and uncertainty would never end.

Not until Snake Eyes finally nabbed me.

Ouch. I tried to push the fear away, but I was losing the knack of stuffing painful thoughts and feelings. They demanded their space now. They would not be denied.

I thought of calling Liam, but something always held me back. He was the one who had walked away, so technically, the ball was in his court. But I was too raw and sad to play games. I just wanted to hold out my heart and say, “Take it. It’s yours anyway, you damn idiot. So take it already.”

The intercom buzzed, and I jerked upright, my heart in my throat.

My sisters had keys, so it wasn’t one of them. And Snake Eyes wouldn’t buzz. He would transform into fetid slime, ooze under the crack in the door, and reconstitute himself on the other side.

Which meant it almost had to be one of my clients who’d gotten frustrated with me being incommunicado. Or Peter and Enid, tired of me ignoring their calls.

Fuck ‘em. I didn’t want to talk. Just as well I’d left the light off. Plausible deniability. I gave the intercom the finger and sat there. Daring it to ring again.

Buzzzzzz, it rang, loud and long and demanding. Persistent bastard.

Buzzzzzz, again. At this point, I was curious. I slunk up next to the window. Leaned out to peek down, ready to lunge back to avoid being seen.

Liam stood on the top of my stoop. My heart thudded painfully hard against my ribs. My legs went rubbery and weak. Buzzzzz, he hit the intercom again.

Then he looked up and saw me. I hadn’t flinched back fast enough.

He gazed up in silent entreaty. I went to the door, and buzzed him in, then unlocked all the locks, of which there were many. I had added three more to my collection since the Snake Eyes episode.

Dignity , I reminded myself. Detachment. Hold your ground. You’re not going to throw your life away to suit anyone’s whim. You’ve done that long enough.

A quiet knock sounded. I opened the apartment door.

The sight of him hit me like a blow. So tall.

So beautiful. But thinner. He was pale, drawn, his face somber.

In the sickly light from the stairwell, I saw fading bruises beneath both eyes.

He’d had a broken nose, Eoin had said. Cracked ribs.

A dislocated shoulder. Hanging out with me was hard on a guy’s health.

I grimly clamped down on the urge to fuss. Fussing was above my pay grade.

My heart raced so hard, I felt woozy and faint. I could think of no coherent greeting for him, so I just stepped back and silently gestured him in.

He shoved the door shut after him, blocking out the light. I was grateful I’d left it off, until memories flooded back of the last time they’d been in this room, in the dark. Making mad love.

He cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

I blocked all the automatic polite replies at their source. I had nothing to lose, nothing to hide, no reason to lie. “No,” I said. “I feel like shit.”

He took a step closer. “I’m sorry about what happened between us.”

A sound burst out of me, part bitter laugh, part derisive snort. “Not as sorry as me. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t concentrate. I’m scared of my own shadow. I’m wrecked, Liam. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You have to hear it, because I’m not done saying it.”

“Oh, yeah?” I sat down on the futon with an undignified thump. “Don’t tell me what to do, Knightly. I’m done with your lectures and your bullshit ultimatums.”

“I love you,” he said roughly.

That cut my tirade off and left me gasping. “H-h-huh?”

“I’m sorry for all the stupid shit I said. I was scared. I was reacting to old stuff that had absolutely nothing to do with you. And I’m so sorry I did that.”

I rocked on the couch, my hands over my mouth. “Old stuff,” I repeated.

“Yeah. Stuff I never worked through. But after what happened, I had to. I couldn’t go on like that. Smothering to death in a box I made for myself. Trying to keep everything under control. It was grow or die. So I grew. I’m trying to, anyhow.”

“Um. Okay. Growing how?”

Liam sank down onto his knees. He pried one of my hands off my mouth and kissed it, reverently, slowly. In the silence, it felt like a sacred ceremony.

“I love you, Nancy D’Onofrio,” he said.

I was vibrating with emotion, but this thing between us was a maze, a confusion of entrances and exits, full of dead ends and traps and pitfalls. My heart shook at the idea that there might actually be a narrow, winding way through it.

If we could find it together.

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked.

Damn it. I’d blurted out the question I’d sworn I wouldn’t ask. It had just sprung up and asked itself without my permission.

He hesitated. “I couldn’t for a while. First, I was numb. Then I was scared. Then I was just embarrassed. I’ll regret making you wait for the rest of my life.”

That startled me into smiling. “Oh, come on. Don’t get melodramatic. The rest of your life is a long time.” I paused. “I hope,” I added delicately.

“Do you?” He slid his arms around my hips, pressing his face to my belly. “I’m glad you feel that way. But no matter how long it is, it’ll be too long without you.”

Whoa. He’d caught me in a weak moment. He was just waiting for me to cave.

And oh, how I wanted to cave. I ached for it.

I rested my hands on his shoulders, I suppose with a vague notion of pushing him away, but as soon as my body made contact with his, my fingers dug in. He felt leaner, harder than I remembered. His body was taut. Tension thrummed through it.

I couldn’t push him away to save my life. I sank down like a wilting flower. I draped myself over him, my face resting on his shoulders, feeling his breath.