Mahalia shook her head as she began to chop broccoli into a colander. “I’d bet anything it’s the former, John. I’ve seen people crazy with grief, and Michelle’s not that. If anything, she’s locked down.”
The description brought a sick feeling to Nick’s stomach. “She said she needed to decide for herself. To do something about her future instead of just letting everyone else handle it.”
“But Luciano…” He trailed off as his gaze flickered to Derek.
Derek didn’t flinch. “Luciano cares about her, and that makes it a sticky situation.”
They didn’t have the luxury of taking too much care with Luciano’s feelings. “Even if he winds up with a broken heart, he’d count it as a small price to pay for Michelle’s safety. He can guarantee that, Dad. You know he can. Hoffman and Ochoa are just dying to shut Enrica out after this whole mess.”
“As if they would have done any better.” He straightened, rising to his full, impressive height. “They’ll use this as an excuse to say women don’t belong in positions to power. To keep you off the Conclave.”
It was the moment of truth. Nick met his stare. “It kills me that they’ll take this and twist it into some misogynistic bullshit. But personally? I don’t care if they shut me out. It’s not for me. It never has been.”
For the first time in her life, the words didn’t bring a disapproving look from her father. He studied her in silence, that tired, worn expression worse than ever, and nodded. “I understand.”
It seemed too easy, and it scared her. Before this whole fiasco, her father wouldn’t have hesitated to try to convince her, to sing the praises of leadership and its rewards. That he didn’t try now spoke more loudly than his words. “Do you understand? Really?”
“I wanted to change our world for you and your sister. I wanted to make us civilized. Maybe we’re not as ready for it as I’d hoped, and I’m through making you pay the price for that.”
Having her walk away for good would weaken his authority with the wolves, maybe even force him off the Conclave. Looking into her father’s eyes, Nick could tell he didn’t give a damn anymore. “All right. Michelle’s taking care of herself for once. What we need to handle is the situation with Coleman.”
Derek cleared his throat. “Alec told me a little about that.”
Of course he had. Nick rubbed her hands over her face. “Coleman’s bigger than me, but I’m fast—”
“No.” Derek’s voice, quiet and intense. “You’ve asked me to stand by and watch this shit nearly kill you. This is the one thing I can do. For God’s sake, let me do it.”
“Can you do it?” She kept her voice as quiet as his. “You can bet your ass he’s trained for this sort of thing. He’s ambitious, and no matter how civilized Dad keeps trying to make things, Coleman wouldn’t have gotten this far without tucking a few victories under his belt.” She had to make him understand. “A challenge like this is a fight to the death, Derek. It’s not the same as sparring with Alec in his backyard.”
He caught her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Remember, someone has tried to kick the shit out of me on just about every business trip I’ve been on.”
“But not someone who clawed his way up to a seat on the Conclave.”
“Oh, and how many Conclave members have you fought?”
Mahalia cut in. “That’s enough. Your father was right, Nicole. You may be quick in a fight, but that’s no advantage against Coleman. He’s just as fast, and you can’t match him for size. Derek, on the other hand…”
Nick had swallowed tears until her chest ached. Maybe it should have been simple to ask Derek to do this for her, for her family, but she couldn’t.
Had Michelle felt this way, taking that first step? Getting involved with Aaron, knowing she might as well march him in front of the Conclave and declare him a traitor? Had it felt this selfish?
“Do whatever you need to do,” she whispered thickly, avoiding his gaze as she slid off the barstool. “I’ll be in my room.”
“Nick—”
“Give her a second.” Her father, low and sure, and his words continued as she fled the kitchen. “Remember how you felt, being helpless…”
She didn’t stay to listen. Her eyes burned and she couldn’t see, but she made it to her bedroom anyway, slamming the door shut behind her.
It opened seconds later, even with her leaning against it. Derek’s scent coiled around her, followed by the warmth of his hands as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Have a little faith in me.”
“It isn’t that. Christ, Derek, you’re the strongest person I know.” Over the last two years, she’d watched him more closely than she’d admitted to herself. “You work your ass off, and I’ve never seen you give up on anything. This isn’t about you.”
“It’s about me if you want a boyfriend who sits on his ass when you don’t need sex or waffles.”
“I don’t!” Nick jerked free and rounded to face him. “You shouldn’t have to fight Coleman. It’s my fault. All of it, everything.”
Derek groaned and leaned back against the door. “Everything? Come on, Nick. Give the rest of us a chance to fuck up once in a while.”
“Not like that. Not the situation.” Misery churned through her. She wanted to stop arguing, to give in and go to him, let him hold her, but she forced herself to stay still. “Would you be okay with it? If I had to face something like this because of you?”
“What the hell do you think the last month has been like?” He caught her shoulders again and leaned down. “I want a partner, Nick. I want to be a partner. I’m never going to be able to do the political shit the way you can, but I can fight. You did your part, so let me do mine.”
He still didn’t get it, and he probably never would. Their situations weren’t reversed, and he’d already spent more than his fair share of time having to think of her in danger. That none of that danger had been directly attributable to him didn’t matter.
She took a deep breath and tried one last time. “Because of me, Derek. If something goes wrong, you’ll be dead because of me, and not in some hyperguilty, theoretical fashion. Because you took my place in this fight.” She held up a hand to halt his protest. “Hang on. You want to do this, and I understand. Really, I do. I just need some time to get okay with it.”
“No.” He tilted her head back again. “You need to get okay with the fact that there aren’t your fights and my fights anymore. This is our fight.”
His conviction was absolute, and his strength both calmed and humbled Nick. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against him. “I think you’re getting the short end of the deal here.”
Derek laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Only literally, baby. And that’s okay. We’ll get you a step stool.”
She let go of his shirt and smoothed the fabric. “We have an advantage, you know. A big one.”
“Yeah?”
“My father. He’s seen Coleman fight before. He knows his moves.”
“Then he can show me.” A feral smile curled his lips. “You have no idea how much I want to hit something. I got in a damn fistfight with Andrew.”
“Did he deserve it in the slightest?”
“Don’t think either of us deserved it, but we both needed it.”
“Hopefully it helped you both blow off some steam.” She bit her lip. “How is he doing? And Kat?” She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t thought to ask.
Derek closed his eyes, and she knew the news wasn’t good. His thumbs rubbed along her collarbones, the touch almost absentminded. “Why don’t we sit down and talk?”
Nick stirred the mixture in the double boiler. “Almost ready. You still like cinnamon?”
“I think so.” Michelle’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I never know how things will taste these days.”
“You can try it first and see.” The thick chocolate had just started to foam, so she cut off the heat and reached for two mugs. “Did you and Luciano get things worked out?”