Page 98 of Summer Heat
“Because?”
“I eventually left federal protection and took a job where I was… safe. I never got used to a different name. I’m Nic. It just worked.”
Roman kneaded his temples. “You didn’t call. Send a damn letter. Nothing.”
“I thought it would be better. Safer. I had a hard enough time adjusting to life without you all. Mom’s face if she got a letter from me? Dad would go insane trying to find me. You and Cash…” Remembering the decisions still hurt. “I had to.”
“You walked away from your life to help prosecute some low life piece of trash?” Pain was evident in the scratch of Roman’s voice.
“You walked away from us?” Cash followed up, and she knew he meant him and her, not their three musketeers.
“I walked away to stay alive. The mobsters knew me, knew what I was privy to. The FBI sting took out a few members, but not the whole organization. I had to disappear. My death had to be untimely and coincidental. If not, those same contract killers would’ve found me—our family—and made me watch as they hurt everyone I loved. The mob had to believe I’d died running away from them. What would you do, Roman? You’d endanger our parents? Me? No, you wouldn’t. You’d do what it took to protect them. Just like I did.”
Cash and Roman seemed lock-jawed. Rocco asked, “Wait? You were trying to protect them?”
“I did protect them.”
“You didn’t give us a chance. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. You should’ve talked to me.”
“I didn’t have time. The FBI gave me thirty seconds to decide. They showed me crime photos and asked if I’d help them with the financial paper trail. All I could think was I’d been tracking accounts payable and receivable f
or murders. A lot of them. I wanted to keep you safe.”
“Protecting these guys? Shit.” Rocco tipped back on the back legs of his chair. “How ironic.”
Nicola flashed him a glare. “Ironic? You want to tell me how?”
“Ah, nah. These fuckers can fill you in later. Why don’t you tell us about tonight?”
“Can’t.”
“We’ve already done this song and dance, so let’s cut to it so we can all finish getting drunk and go pass out.” Rocco apparently wasn’t taking any shit.
“My turn.” She eyed each of them. “Who do you work for? Who sent you?”
Rocco bounced back down onto all four chair legs. “All right. Fair is fair. A company called The Titan Group.”
“You work for Titan? All three of you?” The military, hell, the CIA, turned to Titan for jobs they didn’t want on their books. How had Cash and Roman ended up on that payroll?
She shook her head out of the question cloud, and saw all three bright-eyed and interested as to how she knew Titan Group existed. Damn it. She was off her game. Little mistakes could be her undoing. She needed to tread with serious care.
Cash answered. “Yeah, all three of us. Roman and I joined the Army after college. We’re a good team. We’re still a team. We’ve been a team since day one. Grade school. High school. Sniper school. But you wouldn’t know anything about that kind of loyalty, would you, Nic?”
“Lay off, Cash.” Roman’s defense wasn’t that strong, but she appreciated it.
“What the fuck ever.” Cash punctuated his words with another shot of whiskey.
“Christ, almighty. What is it with you two?” Roman glared from her to Cash. “You two used to be friends. Do you remember that? Shit.”
Nicola traced the rim of her shot glass with a manicured nail. “You don’t have to lay off. I can take it. I’m just one of the guys.”
Roman rolled his eyes, but Cash pinned her with his stare. “Now it’s your turn again. Why were you hanging off Antilla Smooth’s nuts?”
She deserved that. They were with Titan, and they were her family, once upon a time before she walked away. She could trust them to a point. “I was on the job. Undercover.”
Roman and Cash might have stopped breathing. They were frozen in shock, ready for a slight breeze to knock them away from the table. Rocco, perked up, more interested in that than the family drama. “No joke? Nice. Whose payroll you on?”
“Not going there.” She shrugged.
