Chapter 1: Homecoming

Nikki

––––––––

The thread hanging from the hem of my blouse taunted me. I licked my thumb and first finger and twisted it back inside the wrap of my top. I’d tried to have everything perfect. My hair was freshly highlighted, my nails were done, I was waxed everywhere... and this one little thread wanted to ruin it all.

Sitting in the terminal, I stared down the long hallway he’d walk up after getting off the plane. I remembered a time when you could wait for friends and loved ones right at the gate, and to be honest, I was a little glad those days were over. I’d need a moment to catch my breath when I saw him again.

Derek and Patrick had both moved to Wilmington a year ago, and the Princeton office of Alexander-Knight¸ LLC, was set to close. Until now. After six years of steady employment, I was sending out resumes when Stuart asked if he still had a place here. I got the email from Derek to prep his old office right after I got the message asking if I’d be willing to stay on as Stuart’s secretary. I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Meeting him at the airport was my idea.

Again my eyes strained down the long hallway leading to the concourse. It was eleven o’clock, and I was one of a small handful of people waiting in the lobby. A woman and a little boy appeared, walking toward me. The boy excitedly skipped and ran ahead. The tired woman tried to keep up with him. Behind them a businessman held a phone and texted as he walked. A break between them, and... No one.

My mind drifted to the last time I’d seen Stuart, three years ago, the night he’d left to go back to Saudi. We’d gone out for a farewell dinner. Derek as usual called it an early night, but the two of us stayed a little later.

Stuart was eager to leave, and it made him uncharacteristically open and chatty. We laughed and shared a few drinks. I could tell he felt good by the way his hazel eyes sparkled. I was in heaven. Three years of working in the same office, dressing up every day, and he’d never shown me this much attention. It washed over me like warm water.

I’d done my best not to look like I was slugging my drink before I asked if he might drive me home. My excuse was I’d drunk too much, and I didn’t like cabs. I never dreamed it would work.

That memory made my eyes slide closed as I sat alone on the bench. Stuart was amazing in bed, and his body was unbelievable, lean and lined. Strong—he carried me through the door all the way to the bedroom! His shirt was off in one swipe, and a little squeak escaped my throat at the sight of his lined torso. I couldn’t get my dress off fast enough. I sat on the bed in front of him in my underwear, trailing my fingers down the ridges of his stomach.

My bra was off with a flick, and large hands cupped my breasts. He tweaked my nipples into hard little pebbles, rolling them between his fingers... Oh, god! I’d quickly lowered his zipper and slid his jeans down.

Heat flared between my thighs when I thought of the lump straining inside his boxer briefs. Delicately, I’d traced the outline of it before lowering the fabric and taking the large, mushroom head into my mouth. He only let me taste him a moment before lifting me and sinking deep inside.

He fucked me hard, and I guess I always suspected Stuart would be rough. It matched his controlled persona. He didn’t take shit, and he expected his orders to be followed. I’d walked around feeling it for two days. It was the best fuck of my life.

Mr. Alexander, of course, had no idea I’d slept with Mr. Knight his last night in Jersey. If he had, I was pretty sure I’d have gotten my marching orders the next day. Derek didn’t tolerate in-office romances. Patrick, who took his older brother’s place at the private investigative firm nearly pushed him to his limit.

A little smile curled my lips. I loved having the younger Mr. Knight in the office. Patrick was flirty and fun, and he changed the mood of everything. When he said he was moving to Wilmington to be with his fiancée Elaine, I nearly cried. Derek was such a slave driver. Six months later, Derek was gone, too. He wanted to be with Melissa. Why those ladies couldn’t move to Princeton...

Then I saw him.

My stomach flew to my throat at the image striding in my direction. He still had that confidence, shoulders back, perfect posture. A pack was on his back, and he carried a faded brown-leather jacket across his arm. His jeans were loose on his slim hips, but the olive-drab tee he wore stretched tight over his broad shoulders. I could see the cut of his muscles through the fabric, and sheer lust pooled low in my pelvis. I wasn’t sure I could stand.

He was almost in front of me, close enough that I could make out the hazel of his eyes, when I pushed to my feet and cleared my throat. “Need a lift, soldier?”

I’d been scolded for calling them that when I’d first started working in the office. At first I was confused. Derek and Stuart called each other “soldier” all the time, but I later found out it was an inside joke. You never called a Marine “soldier.”

Tonight it made my new boss stop in his tracks. He saw me and at first he seemed confused. I guess he was surprised to see me, although I couldn’t tell if he was glad.

“Nikki?” His deep voice hit me like an avalanche. “Derek didn’t say you’d be here.”

“I figured you could use a friendly face after that long flight.” I caught him in a brief hug that filled the air around me with the scent of soap and cedar. Stuart’s scent. “I brought the keys and everything you need to get into the office and Derek’s old place. Let’s get your bags.”

“Thanks.” A brief smile appeared and disappeared from his face, but it was enough for that damn sexy dimple to pierce his cheek. “I wish I’d known. It’s late.”

“I don’t mind.” My voice was soft, and I couldn’t bring myself to say I’d help him get readjusted in every way if he wanted. I had to let him call the shots. It was how he liked it.

We waited in silence as the baggage claim cycled, as one after another rectangular black pilot-case slowly passed us. I knew we were looking for his standard-issue roll. He always used it.

“So how have you been?” he finally asked.

The jacket was still slung over his arm, the backpack still in place on his shoulder. One hand was in his pocket. He could’ve been a fucking model, he was so perfect.

Managing a little smile, I nodded. “Good. You?”

He shrugged. “Same.”

I tried to think of something more to say. When he left, he’d said he couldn’t take sitting in an office all the time. He was born for combat. He missed the desert.

“I was surprised when Derek said you were coming back. How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“Haven’t decided.”

Silence again.

It was always how it was with Stuart, thousands of words left unsaid. His pack rolled around, and he lifted it in one easy sweep off the conveyer. My lip caught in my teeth as his biceps flexed, stretching his shirtsleeves. What I wouldn’t give to see that body naked again.

“Ready?” I managed to ask.

“Lead the way.”

I’d dressed for just such an order. The jeans I wore hugged my ass tight, and my top ended just high enough to give him a good view. A pair of stack heels did the rest of the work for me. Eat your heart out, Mr. Knight.

No comment.

We got to my car, and he walked around to the back to toss his stuff in the trunk. I waited inside until he joined me. Before we backed out, I handed him an envelope containing a set of keys, a door card, and the passcode for the building.

He only glanced inside. “Is Derek’s place still the penthouse he had back in the day?”

“One and the same, and he rented you a Lexus until you’ve had a chance to buy or lease something. It’s parked in his space in the garage.”

Stuart exhaled a laugh. “I never could tell if he was showing off with all that shit or if he was really that soft.”

“You could afford the same or more if you wanted.”

Family money combined with his years of active duty, being single, and what he made in private security had left Stuart with quite the net worth. In the millions the last time I’d snooped, which was three years ago.

“I don’t give a shit about glamour.”

His lips pressed into a frown, and I let it go. It wasn’t much of a conversation anyway. I tried to catch as many red lights as possible on my way into the downtown area, but at this time of night, most of the signals were blinking yellow. We reached our destination far too soon.

“Let me out at the front.”  He leaned forward to retrieve his jacket, and my brow fell.

“Wouldn’t you like me to walk you up? Give you the tour?”

I slowed to a stop at the entrance to the luxury apartment building. A doorman waited inside the glass entrance.

“I’m pretty sure I remember my way around the place.”

I couldn’t think of a thing to make him invite me inside, but my expression must have told him how I felt. He paused before getting out and leaned toward me.

“Thanks again, Nik. I’ll see you tomorrow.” A pat on my shoulder, and he was gone, headed to the back of the car to retrieve his bags before disappearing through the glass entrance.

A long exhale escaped my lips, and I started to cry.

* * *

Stuart

Derek’s condo was as plush as I recalled. Stainless steel everything in the kitchen, and the living room was decked out with black leather sectionals and a massive flat-screen television. Both bedrooms were identical with king-sized beds, crisp white linens, and similar dark-wood furnishings as in the living room. It was all very masculine and spare, and not a single rough-edge in sight.

He was a stand-up guy giving me his old place, but I couldn’t stay here. This wasn’t my style. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I was making the right call coming to Princeton. Nikki meeting me at the airport almost killed the deal.

She was as beautiful as ever, and I knew she’d wanted me to invite her up here tonight. My last night out, I was flying high, and I’d pretty much fucked her senseless. She was a great lay, but it was a huge mistake, especially in view of my current situation. Clearly Derek never found out. Shit. He’d be pissed, and he’d be completely justified.

I should’ve asked if she was still in the office, but it hadn’t occurred to me. Not that I was a self-centered prick, I was just preoccupied. It would be hard enough to keep my shit a secret without the complications of a woman sniffing around, and I needed privacy.

My hands started to shake as I stood looking out the wall of windows. Fisting them against the withdrawals, I ordered my mind to Fight. Fight, dammit! I was stronger than this. Nothing controlled me. I called the shots.

But I also knew the drill.

Shaking was the tickling whisper of what was to come. The easy greeting before the gut-twisting pain showed up to kick my ass and bring me to my knees. After that came the hot flashes, followed by more blinding cold shakes.

Insomnia... I hadn’t slept in days. If I could just get one night’s sleep, maybe it would bolster my strength to fight.

Crossing the room, I dug in my backpack for the bottle. Turning it toward the light, I remembered what I’d read. Tapering off was the least painful way to beat this addiction, but every time I opened that bottle, I took more.

Jaw clenched, I told my mind No. I came back to grab the reins, to get away from the easy prescriptions and the rationalizations. I was at a turning point, and if I couldn’t do it here, I only had one place left to go.

The bottle shook in my hand just before the first cramp twisted my stomach.

“Fuck!” I shouted, as my body bent in half. I staggered to the sofa before pushing off and heading to the bathroom.

Cold sweat coated my forehead. In seconds, it would all come out again, but before it did, I twisted off the white cap and dumped the entire contents into the toilet. No going back.

Sitting there, I braced against the pain, every muscle in my body straining so hard, I saw veins. God dammit. Hold on. I could do this. It hurt so bad, a hoarse groan scraped through my throat, past my resistance.

Getting up, I went into the kitchen and slammed cabinet doors open. Nikki had stocked the place, but I wasn’t after food. Shoving aside boxes of rice, pasta, crackers, another searing pain cut through my stomach, and a loaf of bread hit the floor. I gripped the oven door handle so hard, I thought it would break before I was able to straighten up again.

With a shaking hand, I opened the last cabinet and found the liquor supply. White, brown, golden. She’d bought a little of everything, no doubt expecting to share it with me.

I pulled out a fifth of Crown and threw the purple bag aside before I twisted off the top. I didn’t even wince as the whiskey burned through my chest. One big gulp after another, I slid down to the dark hardwoods. I’d sit here and finish it. Then I’d go to the next bottle until I passed out. I didn’t have a choice tonight.

* * *

My eyes burned fire as they peeled open and scanned the floor where I lay. I never left the kitchen of my partner’s immaculately clean condo last night. It had only taken a fifth of Crown. Easy night. Now my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my stomach was more torn up than before.

Shit. I’d never make it to the office this way, but I had to try.

Easing myself up, I held onto the sink before reaching into the cabinet for a glass. The water was so cold and good, I drank two before staggering into the living room, where a phone waited on an end table.

“Walter here!” The aged voice on the line was ready to serve. Clearly, he’d been informed I was moving into Derek’s old place.

I’d met him before, of course, and I couldn’t count the number of times my partner had mentioned how great he was. Better than a butler, connections in the service industry all over town, I vaguely recalled Walter could get a reservation at any restaurant with any amount of notice.

Food was not on my agenda this morning. “Walter, any chance there’s a drugstore in the building?” I sounded like shit.

“Sorry, Mr. Knight, but I can send out for something. What do you need?”

Clearing my throat, I looked out at the sun cutting through the long, grey clouds. “I need Imodium.”

“I’ll have it in less than five. Hang in there, sir.”

“And Walter?”

“Yes, sir?”

Squeezing my eyes together, I tried to remember what I’d read. “If they have any of those pain relievers with sleep aid? I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“I’ll see what I can find.”

Dropping the plastic phone on its base, I rubbed my eyes. Spoiled or not, Derek had brains holding onto this place—especially being single. That errand alone made Walter a true asset. I’d shower and put in an appearance at our old firm. It was the least I could do. It was why I’d come back.

* * *

Nikki was at her desk when I pushed through the glass doors. The Imodium had helped my stomach, and I’d taken four of the Advil PMs Walt had included in the discreet brown paper bag. They should hold off the symptoms for a few hours at least.

Blue eyes lit when they met mine, and my hand went straight into my coat pocket to clutch the narrow bottle of painkillers.

“You made it!” She smiled as she rounded the desk, giving me the full view of her body tightly wrapped in a green dress. I remembered why I’d slept with her—I also remembered being sure I’d never come back.

She blinked up at me. “Were you able to sleep last night?”

Was she checking up on me? “I did all right.”

My tone was irritated, and her nose wrinkled. “It always takes me a night to adjust to a new place.”

Right. Stop being fucking paranoid, Stuart. Following her into Derek’s old office, I remembered the cabinets full of food. “Hey, thanks for stocking the kitchen.”

“I figured you’d be hungry.” She touched my arm and leaned forward so that looking down, I had the full view of the dark line between her breasts.

The memory of those in my hands caused a twinge below my belt. Whether I acted on it or not, it was a good sign. The fucking drugs hadn’t taken everything.

“I’ve already set up your computer and the card with how to change your password is on your desk. Let me know if you need a refresher on the phone system.”

Clearing my throat, I looked away from her body. “I won’t stay in long today. Fucking jet lag.”

“Okay!” She gave my arm a squeeze and went to the door. “Come over to my place tonight. A home-cooked meal at dinnertime will help.”

Jaw clenched, I tried to think of a reason to say no. I needed to say no. So many reasons to say no filtered through my mind, but I couldn’t find an appropriate one to say out loud.

“I’ll expect you at six o’clock sharp, Mister Knight.” She gave me a wink and twirled out the door.

Yeah, this wasn’t going to work.

* * *

Fire blazed in my legs. The pain was so intense, I yelled as hard as I could against it. It didn’t matter. Nobody heard me. Explosions blasted all around us, and I couldn’t force my body to respond. We were so close, and we weren’t going to make it. Our last fucking day, and we were both going to die.

Fuck that. I was born to die for my country, but Derek wasn’t. He had Allison and plans for a family. He’d told me about his dreams, and I’d silently vowed to get him out alive no matter what happened. He deserved that.

Strong hands grasped both my arms, roughly pulling me up and dragging me toward the trucks. Looking back, I saw him lying unconscious, unprotected on the desert sand where I’d fallen.

“Put me down!” I yelled, struggling against their grip. “Get him first!”

The loud SLAM! of shrapnel hitting the ground threw us all a foot in the air and jerked me awake.

I sat straight up in the bed shaking in the twilight and gasping for breath. My body was drenched in sweat.

Dropping my head into my hands, pain radiated from my lower back down through my legs. Even sleeping on one of those expensive number mattresses didn’t stop the pain of that old injury. Only one thing was strong enough for that...

No.

The clock said five-thirty. Nikki expected me at six. I considered being a dick and pulling a no-show, but that was a coward’s way. Staggering across the hall into the bathroom, the shakes were back. God dammit, I was a wreck.

In my coat, I found the Advil PM Walter had brought me and took four more along with another Imodium. Seven to ten days is how long they said before the drugs were out of my system. Then I’d be through the worst.

Two weeks.

Until then, I had to fight.

* * *

Nikki’s hair was messy and swept over one shoulder, and her green wrap dress was loose on her body, unlike earlier in the day. She’d kicked off her heels, and the whole disheveled thing actually did it for me. An image flickered across my mind of grasping her face and kissing her roughly, tasting those pink lips, but I brushed it aside.

“Come in! I’ve got chicken and sausage gumbo in the slow cooker. Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

A small laugh followed her as she led me into her apartment, where the rich aroma of meat hit me right in the face. A responsive growl from my stomach—another good sign. Appetite gone, I’d been forcing myself to eat for weeks.

“It does smell good.”

She walked into the kitchen and took the lid off a pot to give the contents a poke. “I got the recipe online. The aroma’s right, but it’s supposed to be thicker... I think I made more of a soup.” She laughed again. “Gumbo’s like soup, isn’t it?”

“Sure.”

Her mood was so happy, it itched the agitation under my skin. Advil helped with my cramps, but I could tell the shakes were only a half-hour away at most.

The pain radiating from my pelvis down my legs was impervious to everything. My spinal column had been damaged in the blast. It healed, but when the residual pain was at its worst, I couldn’t run. It was why I’d been forced to retire.

I’d tried massage therapy, then a chiropractor, but those treatments didn’t last. I needed the pain to stop for good so I could return to active duty. Narcotic-based pain relief was the only thing that worked, and I’d had an easy time finding willing doctors to give me scripts, over and over for as long as I wanted.

The pain disappeared, and even the freaking nightmares stopped. For the first time in a long time, I felt peace, like my old self again. It was a miracle drug.

Until it became a nightmare.

She handed me a tumbler of amber liquid. “They were out of Johnnie Walker. I hope Dewar’s is okay?”

I nodded and took a sip of the scotch. “You have a good memory.”

She held a glass of red wine, and slanted her blue eyes at me. “I remember a lot of things.”

I watched her a moment, but I didn’t take the bait. “Yeah?”

Her face fell just a click, but she exhaled and took a sip. “Like I remember you hate being cooped up in an office. What brought you back this time?”

The truth? I had to beat this addiction before it killed me... I’d keep that to myself.

“I founded Alexander-Knight with Derek. I should at least try to hold up my end of the agreement.” It was a good-sounding lie.

“Patrick’s doing a great job holding up the Knight end of the agreement. Have you talked to him?”

“I don’t talk to Patrick.” The mention of my little brother stirred my agitation even more. “We have nothing in common.”

“That’s not true. You’re both handsome devils.” She winked and headed back to the kitchen. “And you should see your little nephew Lane. He’s following right in your lady-killing footsteps.”

“Right.” I took another sip of scotch. “Patrick got some girl pregnant.”

“Kenny.” She put her wine down and pulled a loaf of French bread from a long paper bag. I watched as she sliced it into thick pieces. “She’s just over in Bayville. Maybe you could catch a ride with her next time she goes to Wilmington for a visit.”

I had no intention of doing that. “He didn’t marry her.”

“I think it was the right call.” She was now spooning chicken, sausage, and rice into bowls. “They’re very different people, and he had already moved on when she told him she was pregnant. You’ll really like Elaine.”

All this talk about Patrick made my stomach churn. My little brother had always been a fuck-up, and clearly he hadn’t matured out of it. I lifted my tumbler and caught the tremor in my wrist. Fuck.

“Mind if I use your restroom?” I needed to pop a few more Advil and take a few deep breaths.

“Remember where it is?” She smiled and pointed. “Right down the hall to your right.”

Walking quickly down the dark passage, I stepped into the narrow bathroom and locked the door. Flipping the light switch, a loud vent whirred overhead. I took the top off the pain reliever, and Dammit! Only one left.

My lips tensed, and I opened the medicine cabinet. Nikki had to have something in here. Shoving aside contact lens solution, mouthwash, deodorant, eye cream, I found a brown bottle with a white top. Some old prescription, I guessed. I turned the small container to read the label, and everything went very quiet. Percocet.

Standing in that bathroom, I stared at what I held in my hand several long minutes.

Another turning point.

Another fork in the road.

At that moment, a cramp stabbed my stomach so hard, I barely got the toilet lid up in time to lose all the Scotch I’d just drunk. Nothing else was left. I pushed the lever to flush then turned back to the sink and rinsed my mouth.

Without a thought, I opened that bottle and popped two of the pills. Fuck it. Then I shoved the rest in my pocket and walked out. I didn’t even pause as I went through the kitchen.

“I’ve got to go.” It was a shitty thing to do, and I was doing it.

“Wait!” Nikki was understandably shocked. “Stuart—you haven’t eaten!”

“My stomach’s messed up.” I shoved my arm into my overcoat, then the next. “I’m sorry. Thanks for the effort.”

I was out the door, headed back to Derek’s condo without a backwards glance.