“You’ve had a long weekend,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’m going to take you home.”
She glanced back at the guest bedroom, her reluctance to leave Holly behind palpable.
“She’s in the best hands possible,” he said in an attempt to reassure her. Then he held out his hand for Nicole to take, which she did. “Come on, sweetheart. You need a hot shower and lots of sleep, and you’ll be more comfortable doing both back at your apartment.”
Instead of taking the Hummer, which attracted too much attention, Nathan used Caleb’s car to drive Nicole to her place. She sat quietly in the passenger seat, and with each passing mile he could feel her withdrawing and emotionally closing herself off to him. He hated that she could so easily shut him out after everything they’d shared, but he also knew that the stress of what she’d endured was a huge part of the reason she was retreating into herself.
Right now, making sure Nicole was safe and protected was his main priority. Until they arrested Sloane, the man was still a threat. Nathan had already started closing off all the trails for Alex Keller, and Lucas was making sure the identity was completely erased, as if that persona had never existed. As a material witness for the case, he’d be required to give a deposition for the feds, as would Nicole. But until her presence was required, she needed to lie low.
He arrived at her apartment and walked Nicole up to her place. Once the door was unlocked, she stepped inside and turned around, but didn’t invite him inside-a telling sign he heeded. For now.
“What happens from here?” she asked, her voice as tired as she looked.
“Until Sloane is in custody, you need to keep out of sight,” he said, making sure she was clear on that. “Stay in your apartment and don’t go to work. I’ll keep in touch so you know what’s going on, or you can reach me on my cell at any time.”
She nodded. “How long is it going to take?”
“At least three days.” He shifted on his feet, trying hard to give her the space she seemed to need, even though the distance between them was killing him. “Less if the feds move quickly.”
She rubbed her fingers across her furrowed forehead as she processed his answer. “Then what?”
“We can go back to our regular lives.” For him, that meant a future that included her in it. A committed relationship that eventually led to marriage, when she was ready to make that step. “And you can write your exclusive story on Sloane, like you wanted.”
He expected an ecstatic response from her, since exposing Sloane had been her goal from the beginning. But she didn’t even acknowledge the coup that would be hers, and hers alone.
Instead, she stood there, like an empty shell of herself. Seeing her so devoid of emotion scared the crap out of him. “All my stuff is still at the Turnberry apartment.”
The mundane conversation grated on his nerves, and also set off an uneasy sensation deep inside him. “Caleb has a crew coming in and cleaning everything up. He’ll get your things packed, and I’ll bring them to you.”
She shook her head, her expression suddenly adamant, as was the way she lifted her chin. “No, just have them send everything to me.”
The finality of her words hit him in the stomach like a sucker punch. Right here, right now, she was ending things with him, without giving him any choice in the matter. And it royally pissed him off.
His first instinct was to confront her, to lay everything on the line and force her to acknowledge that there was something special between them. To argue that they weren’t over just because the case was, or because she decided they were done.
Goddamn it, he loved her . And he knew she cared for him, too. Their relationship might have started out as strictly sexual, but there was no denying the deep emotional connection that had formed between the two of them.
But she was denying her true feelings in the only way she knew how, by reverting to past behavior and walking away before things became even more complicated-just as she’d done the first evening they’d met when she’d slipped out on him in the middle of the night. She was trying to protect her heart the only way she knew how, even if that meant sacrificing her own happiness in the process.
Frustrated by her behavior, he exhaled a deep breath, which calmed his anger and helped him to think straight before he said or did something he’d regret later. He knew the events of the past few days were skewing her judgment. She wasn’t trained to deal with the emotional impact of what she’d witnessed at Sloane’s. She didn’t possess the skills he did to compartmentalize her feelings. His training kept his focus on the mission, and logic ruled his behavior. Everything about this case had affected her emotionally.
She needed time to process everything. She needed space to put everything in perspective, including what was between the two of them. Right now, she was overwhelmed. If he pushed her to examine her feelings for him, she was going to snap. Hell, one of the most valuable lessons he’d learned from his own sisters was that if he made demands of a woman when she was stressed, she was going to make a decision that he’d regret.
And he didn’t want any regrets between him and Nicole.
He took a step back, so he was no longer standing in the doorframe. “You and I aren’t done yet.” His words were short and to the point.
A flicker of sadness passed through her soft blue eyes. Then, without a response, she shut the door on him, closing the door on them .
Chapter Twenty
Nicole leaned against the closed door long after she knew that Nathan had gone. Her throat was tight with unshed tears, and she felt so jagged and raw inside. The weekend had stripped her emotions bare and left her defenseless, exposed, and hurting in ways she’d never imagined.
She needed a hot shower. She needed to eat. She needed hours of deep, dreamless sleep. But most of all, she needed to rid her mind of the ugly, unpleasant memories of the weekend. And the only way she knew how to do that was to write the story that was hers alone to tell. The grim facts and details were clawing to get out, and she knew she’d never rest until the experience was purged from her soul.
Since her laptop was still at the Turnberry apartment, she turned on the desktop computer in her bedroom. Michelle had spent the weekend with her fiancé, and Nicole was grateful to be alone. She sat down at the desk, opened a new Word document, and put her fingers to the keyboard.
The story of Sloane, his exploitation of young girls, and his involvement in human trafficking spilled out of Nicole faster than she could type. But then her past collided with the present, and she realized that she wasn’t just writing the story for her career; it had also become a huge cathartic release for the shame and humiliation she’d carried with her for so many years, along with the fears that kept her from risking her heart again. It all poured out of her, a wealth of fear and heartache, and all the anger she’d kept buried for much too long.
It wasn’t until hours later, when she was nearly done with the piece, that she became aware of the wet trail of tears on her face. She was supposed to be a dispassionate journalist, yet she was an emotional mess. But despite the pain of reliving the past, and the anxiety of rehashing what she’d witnessed at Sloane’s estate, she felt as though she’d set a part of herself free in writing what had become a very personal story for her. In her mind, she’d finally righted a wrong, and bringing down Sloane would save many other girls from falling victim to a man’s manipulations.