Page 82 of The Restoration Program

He quickly and carefully tucked Nicole inside his inner tux pocket. He grabbed the busboy by the back of his shirt before he could bolt from reach and pulled him backward, throwing him on the pavement. Ryan straddled him, restraining his flailing arms while he delivered blow after blow to his face.

Nicole caught glimpses, heard the impact of each punch from her protective perch.HerRyan had never been in a fight before. At least, she’d never seen anything like this. The busboy, face swollen and bloody, finally relented and stayed on the ground.

HerRyan had done that.

“I should kill you, you know that?” Ryan bellowed. He scooped Nicole out of his pocket and reassured her again in gentle tones. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, you’re okay. I’m so sorry, baby. You’re okay.”

He nearly broke down in tears as he clutched her to the side of his face. Nicole sobbed too, only vaguely aware of the crowd peering into the alley. Cellphones were held out, recording.

Ryan pulled out his own phone shortly, turning away to shield her from view. An emergency responder answered on the other line.

It was bad enough being kidnapped on her wedding day—undergoing a quick physical in her wedding gown was almost worse. After contacting the police, Ryan had called the Facility. Jenning was pacing worriedly outside the apartment before Ryan and Nicole even arrived.

“You’re sure we can’t press charges ourselves?” Ryan asked for the third time.

“Trust me, you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of legislation that’s in progress,” Jenning said, significantly calmer now that she deemed Nicole unhurt. “The culprit will be facing hell from the Program, I assure you. We’ll keep you updated.”

Nicole clenched her jaw to keep from commenting. What kind of charges would the busboy face from the Program? Property theft? She sat forward in her chair and rubbed her temples.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Nicole?” Jenning said.

She straightened and nodded, determined to avoid anymore prodding—physical or otherwise. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” Not that Jenning had necessarily beeninvited, but Nicole appreciated the concern nonetheless.

Silence settled in after the doctor’s departure. Ryan heated up the takeout. They had gotten it for free, along with a bottle of champagne and a promise that they could eat atOchoat no charge for life. As kind as the gesture was, Nicole doubted she would ever willingly pass through those doors again. She could still vividly see Kaylee’s tearful face apologizing again and again.

Her hand shook as she carried her tiny champagne flute to her lips.

“Nicki?” Ryan leaned closer to the coffee table, a frown etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

“What, like I’d let a little light kidnapping shake me?” Nicole smiled, but her voice trembled. “It’s our wedding night, Ry. Of course I’m okay.Morethan okay.”

He nodded, frown deepening. He held out his hands in front of him. “I’m still shaky, too.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. She reached over the edge to him, squeezing his knuckle. “You were pretty heroic back there, big guy.”

Ryan scoffed, burying his cheek against her. He had hugged her so many times since the incident, she was beginning to lose count.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t mind staying here.”

“Hm. Good.”

After her second glass of champagne, the trembling began to ease. There was something special about looking over at Ryan in the light of the dozen candles he’d lit around the living room.Husband.

His months of practice with NüPrint tools showed as he divided an infinitesimal slice of wedding cake onto a plate for her. Nicole questioned herself that such a small thing was attractive to her. Although—she had always appreciated how good he was with his hands.

“The chef must be an angel,” she gushed. “This tastes like fucking heaven. Or does everything taste that much better after you’ve been traumatized?”

“You want another slice?”

“Please. I have all the time in the world to workout now. I can eat whatever I want, right?”

“Calories don’t count on your wedding night,” Ryan said, playfully ducking in to steal the last bit of frosting from her fork.

After refilling her plate, Ryan dipped the eyedropper into his champagne and transferred four drops to fill her glass halfway. Ryan delicately touched the edge of his glass to hers and they both drank again. She watched him over the rim, pleased to see he was shooting herfuck meeyes over his own drink as he relaxed against the couch.

Music played on the TV, but all Nicole heard was Ryan’s soft inhale as she set aside her glass and reached for the zipper on the side of her gown. She stood, allowing the white silk to fall in a glittery pool around her ankles.