Reckless (9 page)

“I suppose, if I had to be abducted and held
against my will by a two-bit hood, I could've done worse than
you.”

“Don't heap such extravagant compliments on
me, lady. You'll swell my head.”

She smirked at him, her relief that he hadn't
discovered her secret making her feel easy for once in his
presence.

“Before I forget again,” he continued, facing
her. “Who is Katrina?”

She felt the blood drain from her face.
“K-Katrina...who?”

“Damned if I know. You had a message on your
machine last night—a woman. She said something about wanting to
know what Katrina was up to.”

There were only two possibilities that came
to mind. Her agent or her sister. She swallowed hard, wishing she
could hear the rest of the message. “Katrina is, um, an old friend.
I've known her since I was a little girl.” That much was true.
Before Katrina had developed into an ex-KGB super-sleuth, she'd
been the imaginary friend of a four-year-old. Later she'd been a
fictional big sister Toni used to threaten bullies. Way back before
she’d learned that her father’s wandering libido had provided her
with several real sisters. She’d learned about Joey only two years
ago, looked her up and they’d formed a real connection. According
to Joey, her mother had alluded to the likelihood that there were
others, but they had no clue how to find them.

As a child, Toni used to blame Katrina for
her own offenses. “She's a rather adventuresome lady,” she said at
length. She glanced up to see if Nick believed her. He seemed to be
accepting what she said. “Did the caller say who—”

“It was your sister. She called you Toni. It
fits you.”

The air left her lungs. Toni sank slowly to
the edge of the bed, her eyes on the floor. She'd hoped Joey
wouldn't miss her right away. She lived upstate, four hours from
the city Toni called home. Hell, she wondered how close she might
be to Joey right now. They’d definitely driven upstate, and quite a
long ways. At least an hour.

“Did she...did she sound worried?''

His gaze slid away from hers. “A little. For
what it's worth, I took enough of your stuff to make it look like
you'd gone away for a few days. If she checks, she'll think—”

“She’ll know.” Toni closed her eyes slowly
and tried to remind herself that Joey Bradshaw was not exactly a
fragile flower who needed protecting from difficult topics. In
fact, if Joey knew where her half sister was right now, she'd
probably hop on her Harley, drive here, kick the door in, grab Nick
Manelli by the scruff of his neck and give him a swift kick in the
cojones
.

“You're
that
close?” Nick's voice made
it sound as if she'd just claimed the impossible.

Toni opened her eyes slowly. “She's my
sister.
” She shrugged. “Besides, she...knows things.”

He scowled and shook his head. She had the
distinct impression that he did not believe her. She could have
kicked herself for the overwhelming urge to convince him, and still
she found herself doing just that. “Maybe we're closer than most,
but that's because we need each other. My parents died young and so
did hers–”

“Wait, I thought you were sisters.”

“Half.” She was telling him too much. She
paused and drew a shaky breath. “I’ve only known about her for a
couple of years, but in that time she’s become my best friend.” She
sought Nick's face and found it with an expression of sadness, his
gaze still focused on her. He was listening—
raptly.

He pulled his gaze away and tried to sound
casual. “What kinds of things do you do together?”

His voice had come out minutely tighter than
before, and Toni wondered why. “Everything we have time to do when
we visit each other.”

“She doesn’t live in the city then?” he
asked.

She bit her lip, didn’t answer.

“I’m not trying to get information on her,
Toni. I saw the photo on the phone stand in your apartment. You
look...close.”

“We are. She's been great to me, and I don't
want to cause her all this worry.”

“She won’t worry much. There’s no sign
anything bad’s happened to you.”

“Of course she will. For God's sake, wouldn't
your
brother worry if you dropped off the face of the earth
without a word?'' He sent her a sharp look and she quickly added,
“I mean, if you had a brother. Or a sister. Do you?”

His eyes narrowed, but then he looked away.
“Not only would he not worry, he wouldn't know. My brother is
dead.”

“I’m sorry.” She thought of that photo, that
little boy, and her heart broke. “What about...your parents? Where
are they, Nick?”

Nick’s voice was devoid of emotion, his
expression shuttered, but he answered her question. “Our mother
walked out when I was thirteen, and I haven't seen her since.”

Toni swallowed hard, the image of the woman
in the photograph reappearing in her mind. How could she have
walked out on her own sons? “Again, I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.” He released the top buttons of his
shirt and stalked into the living room. Toni followed.

“Then your father raised you alone?” She
shouldn't be so curious about his background. She certainly didn't
care. But he'd lost his father and brother—she'd lost her parents.
The only difference was, he pretended not to care.

He walked to the little speaker doc that sat
on the bookcase, tapped the touch screen on the tiny iPod in its
cradle. In a moment Ray Charles' voice sang, “Georgia...
Georgia....” and Nick sank into a chair. He leaned back, hands
behind his head, legs stretched in front of him, and closed his
eyes. “Last I knew, my old man was doing eight to fifteen in
Attica. He went up when I was still a kid.”

“Then he could be out by now, couldn't he?”
Toni felt her stomach turn over. Had his father gone to prison
before his mother had abandoned him or just after? She couldn't
help seeing the sweet, dark-haired little boy in the photo, with
his front tooth missing, and feeling the incredible hurt he must've
felt then.

Nick shrugged. “I never bothered to find
out.”

“What was he—”

Nick's head came up. “That's enough, Antonia.
I'm not up to telling you my life story, and I can't imagine why
you'd want to hear it.” Again he tipped his head back and folded
his arms behind it.

Toni took a seat on the sofa and studied him.
The tension in his body seemed to be ebbing. He'd been wound up and
nervous from his encounter with Taranto when he'd first come in.
Now the mellow piano and the soothing voice coming from the Bose
system seemed to be calming him.

“You like the blues,” she said, unconsciously
keeping her voice low, out of respect for the music. “I never would
have guessed.”

“Relaxes me.”

She shifted, feeling anything but relaxed.
“Was it whoever was here before that got you all tensed up, or
talking about your parents?”

He didn't move. “You don't know when to quit,
do you? Okay, I'll bite. How'd you know someone was here?”

“It was a guess. I saw the red light come on,
by the panel.”

His head moved enough to nod. “Sharp
lady.”

“Are you going to tell me who it was?”

“What do you think?”

Antonia sighed and got to her feet. He'd
given away all he was going to. Her stomach protested softly, and
she realized it must be nearly noon. “Am I allowed to help myself
to some lunch?”

He nodded. “Can you cook?”

“It is not one of my more highly developed
skills. I was thinking along the lines of a sandwich or some
cottage cheese.” She walked to the refrigerator and scanned its
contents. “Or some yogurt,” she said, spying the row of
containers.

“Help yourself.”

Toni hesitated, then shrugged. “You want
one?”

“Why not?”

She picked peaches and cream for her,
strawberry banana for him, located two spoons and carried them back
to the sofa. She held the plastic cup out to him, and he took it.
Their fingers touched and for a moment that seemed eternal, Toni
didn't take her hand away. When she did, she felt flustered and not
sure what to say.

Something had passed between them. Some
unspoken agreement or understanding. He wouldn't hurt her. She'd be
safe as long as she was with him. He'd been saying so all along,
but she was sure of it now. She didn't quite hate him anymore. She
was beginning to see that there were reasons he'd become what he
had—strong emotions that had shaped him into the man he was. If he
was bitter, it was no wonder. He was alone in the world. And she
knew what that felt like.

He seemed content to relax there with the
music filling the room. Toni was eager to write down some of the
interesting discoveries she'd made here and begin to fit them into
her plot and Katrina Chekov's world. She hesitated, though. The
fact remained that she was Toni Rio and her book would ruin Lou
Taranto. If Nick found out, all bets were off.

She finished her yogurt. “You speak any
Spanish, Nick?”

“Not a word,” he said, taking his last bite.
She couldn't seem to take her eyes from him as he licked the pink
cream from his lips. “Although I can tell when you're swearing at
me.” He got up at long last, carried the cup to the kitchen sink
and rinsed it. “I have to go out again. I might be a while.”

Toni sighed loudly.

“Don't tell me you'll miss me.” He was
mocking, but not cruelly. It was almost a friendly sort of
teasing.

“In your dreams, I might,” she replied in the
same tone. She took her cup to the sink as he had, rinsed it, then
turned, leaning her back on the drain board. “I don't like being
locked up here alone. There's not a window in the place, not a soul
to talk to—”

“There's music,” he said. “There are all
those books.” He pointed at the shelf. “Besides, you can use the
time to do some writing. If you get sick of that, there's a TV in
the bedroom—”

“What's wrong with this one?” Toni couldn't
resist asking.

“Not working right now,” he replied without
missing a beat.

Toni chewed the inside of her lip. “If I
spend every day sitting in this apartment, I'll gain twenty pounds
inside a week. I run every day, for God's sake. I can't vegetate
for God knows how long just because it's convenient for you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
against the fridge. “Piling it on a bit, aren't you? It's only been
one day.”

She smirked at him. “I thought you'd
understand.
You
obviously work out—”

His brows shot up. “Not much slips by you,
does it?” His amusement stirred her anger, but not for long. “How
about a deal?”

Her curiosity rose up on its hind legs. “What
kind of deal?”

“I have a basement gym. You behave yourself
while I'm gone, and I'll take you down there.”

“When?” She sounded too eager, but she
couldn't take it back now. She truly was beginning to feel like a
caged animal.

“As soon as I can. But right now I have to
go.” Toni sighed in resignation, while he perused her face.

He stepped closer, looked down at her,
smiling slightly. “I wouldn't be averse to a kiss goodbye, if
you're interested.”

“Since when do you ask permission?” She tried
to make her answer sting, but her eyes went to his full lips the
minute he asked the question.

He shrugged. “Is that a yes?”

“Only if you'd like to kiss my knuckles,
Manelli.”

He nodded, his face splitting in a broad
grin. “Atta girl. For a minute there I was afraid you might be
losing your spunk.” He tousled her hair playfully as he spoke, then
his hand stilled, buried in her curls. He took it away slowly so
the long tendrils slipped between his fingers. Toni pushed off from
the sink, ducked under his arm and moved quickly to the bedroom
where she'd left the notebooks.

She picked them up. “I'll take your advice
and do some writing, then. See you later.” She closed the bedroom
door.

A moment later she heard him leave and she
relaxed again. She'd have to be careful or she'd wind up liking the
man. She'd have to keep reminding herself that no matter what kind
of horrible childhood he'd had, it was no excuse for what he did
now. Lots of people had lousy family lives and still managed to
grow up and become productive citizens.

She was surprised that she was able to put
him out of her mind and concentrate on writing. The words flowed
from her at a remarkable rate. Time slipped by without her being
aware of it. Pages filled, one after another. She wrote in Spanish
so he wouldn't be able to read it and guess what she was doing.

Nick couldn't explain why he'd told her the
things he had. He talked to no one about his family. He didn't even
allow himself to
think
about them. None of it mattered; it
was in the past and that's where it should remain. It had no
bearing on his life today. With one exception. Danny's death was at
the core of his need to end Lou Taranto's reign as king of the
underworld. The man had been getting rich on other people's
suffering for too long. It would end. Nick would be the one to end
it.