she’d see one with four leaves. She could use the luck right about now.
She glanced at Nick’s legs as they approached. He hovered near her. She wished he wouldn’t stand there watching.
Her queasiness subsided, but fear and horror remained lodged in her gut like a rock.
“You okay?” he asked.
She glared up at him and started to rise, but then her foot slipped on the gravel, and she nearly tumbled down the slope into the ditch. Nick grabbed her arm and hauled her up and around the front of the car to solid ground.
Ames pulled away. “Of course I’m not okay. You tell me my brother’s mixed up with mobsters and a hit man is coming to Arnesdale, and you think I could possibly be okay?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this to your doorstep, but I had to try to find Elliot or what he hid—if it’s even in Arnesdale.”
“My brother’s a lot of things—careless, impetuous, lazy and likely to take the easiest way—but he’s not a bad man. He’s not a criminal.” Ames was shouting into Nick’s face, slamming her hands into his chest hard enough to knock him backward, step by step with each denial. Even as she refuted what he’d told her, she had the sinking feeling Elliot was exactly that—a criminal. Worse, so much worse, he might even be dead.
Fantastic. Now tears stung her eyes. The possibility that Elliot had been killed had lingered in her mind for weeks, but she couldn’t consider that yet. Not on top of Mom and Dad. No one should have to lose their entire family within the space of a year. Now, it seemed he wasn’t dead but on the run and likely to be killed sooner rather than later.
“He’s not,” she repeated. The words became a sob, and suddenly her legs buckled, causing Nick to catch her once more. They slid to the ground.
“Ames, I wish you hadn’t been dragged into this.” He spoke so softly she probably wasn’t supposed to hear. She did, though, and that small, whispered remark convinced her. He hadn’t lied about any of it.
Chapter Eight
This was Nick’s worst nightmare. He had his hands full keeping himself a few steps in front of the Espositos. Now his hands were literally full of Ames. From the moment the woman had wandered into his house, all soft curves and dimpled cheeks, he’d known she would be trouble. She’d interfered with his mission—to search the house and grounds thoroughly and if he didn’t find anything, drop off the grid and try to reinvent himself someplace quiet. Maybe across the border in the Canadian northwest. He’d escaped the expectations of his childhood and slipped the mob for legit work—nerd work at that. Surely a city guy like him could get used to roughing it in the wilderness.
“Hey.” He pulled her against him a little more roughly than he needed to. “Don’t faint on me.”
“I’m not fainting,” she wailed, and then her face was buried against his chest and his shirt was getting damp.
“It’s okay. It’ll be all right.” He patted her back. Lies, but he had to say something. “Elliot’s probably in Aruba or someplace, sitting on a beach, drinking a Corona.” Someplace that didn’t have an extradition treaty with the U.S.
“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” she mumbled. Her deep exhalation warmed the skin under his shirt. “My own brother and he doesn’t ever think of me. He never visited while Mom and then Dad were dying, and he left me to handle the funerals. What kind of a person doesn’t come to his father’s funeral?”
“One who’s in deep trouble.” He stroked her hair, the curls as bouncy as her personality. Not a good idea. You’re starting to like her too much.
“One who’s completely selfish.” She gazed up into his face with damp eyes. “My God, Elliot’s horrible, and I don’t know why. My parents were good people and raised us right. He has no excuse for acting the way he does.”
He hunkered on the weed-infested shoulder of the empty country road, holding on to Ames. He should have felt like a fool, but looking into her eyes, so wide and hurt and bruised-looking, he didn’t care. He only had to say something to make it better. There wasn’t much he could offer. “Some people just get on the wrong track. They don’t see where they’re headed until it’s too late, and they can’t dig their way out of the shit piled on top of them.”
She