Strip Search (46 page)

Knowing that didn't change a thing. He was still gone.

The one silver lining: The experience had prompted her to call her mother. They'd talked for two hours and made peace. Having a broken heart really helped her to put her mother's life into perspective. Mom had never gotten over Nicholas DiStefano, despite the fact he'd left her. Well, history was repeating itself. Like mother, like daughter.

At least her mother had a child with the man she loved. Mark had always been too careful, too responsible, to leave behind a pregnant woman, so Nicki had nothing but bitter-sweet memories.

The phone at her waist chimed, jolting her out of her melancholy reverie. Nicki groaned. Who wanted what? Damn it, couldn't she have one evening to herself?

"Yes?" she barked after hitting the TALK button.

"What the hell is going on?"

Uncle Pietro. Of all the people she didn't have the energy to talk to ...

"I have no idea," she said. "You called me, so why don't you fill me in."

"Where is your dancer slash accountant boyfriend? I want to talk him."

Mark? Holy hell, what now ... ?
"I don't know. I think he went back to New York. What happened?"

"He sent me a note. And a check."

Mark had sent her uncle money? "What for?"

"So you had no idea that he was paying the balance of your loan to me?"

Nicki nearly dropped the phone. Surely she hadn't heard that right. "Mark paid the balance of my loan? That's impossible ! I owed you three hundred thousand dollars."

"Hey, you callin' me a liar?"

Struggling to understand, to process, Nicki stuttered, "N-no, I just ... It just doesn't seem possible."

"Well, I got a cashier's check today with a note that said I should consider your balance paid in full."

From Mark? Seriously?

Pietro went on. "You sure that Viking wasn't the one laundering money through your club, rather than your stage manager?"

Nicki gritted her teeth. "I'm sure. You talked to the FBI, same as I did."

"Yeah. Okay, I'm considering it paid. I'll send the paperwork over by Friday." He paused, and Nicki was too shocked to fill the silence. "And you didn't know a damn thing about this check?"

Mind racing faster than the land speed record, Nicki barely managed to get out, "Nothing."

Why would Mark pay her balance?

Guilt. He felt remorse for what he'd done to her--enough to send a small fortune to her uncle on her behalf ... but not enough to grow and mend and come back to her whole.

The realization made her sad. Sad, hell. A ghost town couldn't feel any more desolate than her heart.

Where did he get that kind of money? How could she ever repay him? Certainly, she didn't want to take that amount of money, especially if it had been given in guilt. Paying back someone she couldn't locate, however, would be a big ol' challenge. She'd already tried to call his cell phone once in a moment of despair. It was disconnected.

"Typical broad. Don't know when an employee is running an operation that cleans a huge chunk of bling under your nose." Pietro's laugh brayed in her ear. "Don't know a damn thing."

Her bullshit threshold was never high even on a good day. This wasn't a good day. Nicki had no idea why Mark had sent Pietro that money, and at the moment, the only thing she felt was gratitude. Mark's guilt or whatever meant that she'd never have to put up with her bullying bastard of an uncle in her business life again.

"Bite me, you asshole," she bit out. "You didn't know what Zack was doing in the club's bank accounts, either."

"I wasn't there."

"It wouldn't matter if you had been. I still would have had to buy you a dog and named it Clue so that you'd have one. You've done nothing but belittle me since the moment I cashed your check to start this business. You criticize, terrorize, patronize, but you never do anything."

"Watch your mouth, girl."

"I won't. You're a great armchair quarterback, but who do you think runs this business day after day after day? I'll give you a hint: It isn't Blade."

"And who hired the queer who tried to rob and kill you?"

Nicki paused. Okay, she'd give him that one. But she wasn't giving him another inch. "Well, you sent me a thug who scared off half my employees and pointed a gun in my face, so your record ain't much better."

"Blade is loyal, which is more than I can say for you, judging from that tone."

"You're family, Pietro. Nothing is going to change that. But we're not partners anymore. And for your information, my assets are not all in my bra."

"You heard that one, huh?" He actually seemed to be laughing.

"I couldn't miss it. Stop hounding and disparaging me, and we'll get along."

Then she hung up.

God, it felt good to say that. If she ever managed to track Mark down to pay him back, she'd thank him for this moment. Either before or after she kicked him in the balls for breaking her heart. It was a toss-up which would come first.

But that was big talk, and Nicki knew it. The thought of seeing him again, of not seeing him again ... She hugged her knees to her chest, put her head down, and began to sob.

Nicki had never been particularly fragile. Lonely as a child, with a father whose real family only included her on certain weekends. Dramatic as a teenager, with a flighty, jet-setting mother always on the prowl for Mr. Right and never finding him. She'd always taken care of herself. Suddenly, that didn't feel true anymore.

Mark had stripped her soul bare and taken away his strength, his support. And now that he was gone for good, she realized why she felt as if half of her was missing. It was.

Just as she knew she'd never be whole again without him.

"
P
ush!" the doctor yelled, perspiration dampening the neckline and underarms of her blue scrubs.

Rafe got behind his wife and propped her back up while she bore down, sweat trickling from her hairline and down her temples. Kerry squeezed Mark's hand so tight he thought for sure she'd break half the bones.

"The baby's head is crowning. We're getting close," said the slight, middle-aged doctor. "Rest until your next contraction."

"Oh yeah, I'll just catch a quick two-minute snooze," Kerry quipped. "Heck, while I'm at it, let me flip out the lounge chair and grab a daiquiri."

Mark laughed. Rafe shot him a quelling glare. "Babe," Rafe soothed, wiping away the sweat from her face. "I know it hurts--"

"You know nothing. You got the fun part. Let me tell you now; this is not fun!"

"It'll be over soon," the doctor promised. "Ice?" Rafe offered Kerry some ice chips.

She glared at her husband. "You know where you can stick that ice?"

Mark laughed again, this time ignoring Rafe's nonverbal pleas to shut the hell up.

The next contraction hit moments later, faster and fiercer than the once before it.

"Push now!" the doctor barked. Rafe got into position again. Mark took Kerry's hand once more and encouraged her take out some of her pain on his crushed fingers.

"Breathe, babe," Rafe reminded.

"Why don't you?" she croaked. "I'm busy having a baby."

Then she screamed, long and loud, the sound so shrill, Mark swore it should have broken glass. Certainly, his hand had gone from throbbing to bloodless and numb.

The contraction subsided suddenly.

"Good, Kerry," the doctor coached. "The baby's head is out. One more good push and you should be a mommy."

Weakly, she nodded, then sent Rafe a wicked stare. "Then we won't be doing anything for the next ten years that could remotely cause pregnancy."

Mark laughed, knowing she'd likely eat those words as soon as the doctor gave them the green light. One thing he knew, Kerry and Rafe were solid. They loved each other ... and weren't afraid to show it. He'd learned the hard way not to drop by unannounced on a Saturday night. Or a Tuesday morning. Or a Friday afternoon.

Suddenly, Kerry whimpered and grabbed Mark's hand again. Rafe tightened his grip around his wife's middle and. murmured in her ear, "I'm here, babe."

"It hurts," she moaned.

"One good push and it will be over," Rafe whispered.

"Hold my hand," Mark encouraged.

She latched on with a vengeance. "Thanks for being here, big brother."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the--"

Kerry's ear-splitting wail cut him off. She panted, then cursed, then screamed again. Mark began to wonder if both his ears and his fingers would be impaired for life.

Then a lusty baby's cry split the air. Everyone in the room stopped.

"It's a girl!" the doctor said. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Congratulations."

"We did it!" Kerry said on a happy sob. Tears brightened her eyes and slid down her flushed cheeks. He'd never seen her look happier.

Rafe shifted to her side and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. "We did, babe."

Together they watched as the doctors and nurses cleaned, the baby, examined her, took her Apgar scores.

A few minutes later, the doctor brought the squalling bundle to them and set her in Kerry's arms.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Kerry breathed.

"Like her mommy," Rafe murmured.

Mark stared at the baby's reddened cheeks, half-closed eyes and little bow mouth. A dusting of dark hair swept the top of her little head. "She's gorgeous."

Both Kerry and Rafe had a hand on their new daughter when they turned to him with identical smiles of wonder and joy. He'd seen the two of them get married and look ecstatic. He'd seen them settle into wedded life and make it look so effortless and breezy. But watching the two of them become three ... clearly they'd taken their bond to a whole new level.

The doctor indicated they needed to remove the afterbirth and do a little stitching on Kerry. Rafe retrieved his minutes-old daughter and carried her to the nursery.

Mark walked out to the waiting room and sank into a lumpy brown chair to wait. Exhilaration bounced through his system, even as he felt humbled, stunned by the miracle of birth.

And completely empty.

He'd never have what Rafe and Kerry had. The security they knew in being happily married would never be his. The joy of holding a son or daughter of his own was something he'd never experience.

He'd been in New York for nearly three weeks and still, he couldn't smile, couldn't sleep. He worked twenty hours a day and stewed the other four. He ached. And wondered what Nicki was doing, and if she was all right, and if she missed him.

For her sake, he hoped not. For his sanity, a selfish part of him would be pissed if she forgot him so quickly or easily. He loved her ... in his own dysfunctional, unable-to-show-it way.

Rising again, he paced. He couldn't stay here like this. Stuck between the past and the future. He couldn't sponge off Kerry and Rafe's love as if he had any part of it. As if it would somehow fill the empty parts of him that Nicki once had.

Sighing, he sat again. But what he had with Nicki was over. Accusing her of being a thief ... She'd find it unforgivable. And she should. From his viewpoint, he couldn't do much worse to bring a proud, savvy woman down than to accuse her of being a criminal, then leave her.

Damn, he was fucked up. If he'd never met Tiffany, never given in to his urge to protect her seemingly fragile spirit and married her ... He'd always wanted a family of his own, probably to replace the broken one he'd had as a kid. The day he'd married Tiffany, he'd been nervous, puking nervous. He'd tried to picture having kids with her, but had been unable to see past the next ten minutes.

Mark suspected if not for Tiffany, he would have married Nicki in a heartbeat and had no trouble picturing their kids, their future.

But it was never going to be, thanks to his ex-wife and the way she'd shattered and twisted his insides and made distrust his M.O.

"Hey, buddy." Rafe slapped him on the shoulder and handed him a chocolate cigar.

"Am I supposed to eat this?"

"You can't smoke in the hospital, and Kerry would have my hide for lighting up anything, anyway. Have to be responsible now that I'm a dad."

"Congratulations, man. She's a beauty."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to invest in a good baseball bat and practice fighting off the boys."

"I think you've got a few years," Mark said wryly.

"Never hurts to be in shape." Rafe shrugged, then cast Mark a concerned stare. "Hey, I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on Tiffany's conviction before your sister went into labor. You gave great testimony. How did it feel when the bailiff read Tiffany's guilty verdict?"

Mark shrugged. "Good. It was closure. Justice was served. I just hope Zack gets the same and worse. Discovering and nailing the right suspect added to the accomplishment, but I'm damn sorry to learn there's a whole Mafia structure behind the money laundering. I suspected it but ... I sure hope to hell Zack gives up some names someday so we can put a stop to all this shit."

"As long as Zack doesn't talk, Blade's cover wasn't compromised. I hear he'll stay with Pietro DiStefano and try to see what illegal crap the Gamalini family is up to, so it's all good. Which makes me wonder why you look pissed."

"Not pissed, jealous. I'll never have what you and Kerry do."

"Never say never. The right woman comes along and changes everything."

Unfortunately for him, she'd already come ... and he'd trampled her like a stupid ass. And there was no getting her back. "Nah, Tiffany ruined it for me."

"You sure about that?"

"Oh, yeah." Mark sent his brother-in-law a bitter smile. "She taught me a thousand and one ways to be the worst-possible husband material. And I was a quick study."

"Tiffany wasn't the right woman for you. Was Nicki?" His smile evaporated. With his thumb and forefinger, he rubbed at the dull headache above his eyes. "Yes."