I heard nothing.

He didn’t answer the door.

I looked to the large signature bows of the black Valentino platform, peep-toe pumps I wore.

Those bows, so simple, still a thing of beauty.

At least there was some beauty in the world I could own.

I looked to Nick’s door.

He was in there.

But we were over.

He was the smart one.

The strong one.

Thank God one of us was.

I walked down the steps with my head held high. We were friendly. He’d stopped communicating. Now I was just an acquaintance he’d fucked who was checking on him.

I had no proof but still, I knew he was fine.

I could move on.

Yes, I would move on.

Nothing to look forward to, not anymore.

But that was okay. Naturally, I’d keep breathing.

It was habit.

I made it to the bottom of the steps, went to my car, got in and drove away.

I didn’t even look up to Nick’s unit.

He was already a memory

* * * * *

Nick

Nick stood at the window, teeth clenched, muscle jumping in his cheek and he watched her walk to her car.

Total poise.

Like a princess.

His princess.

The adult one.

“Shit,” he whispered.

She got in her Range Rover and drove away.

And she did that not once looking up.

Not once.

That was good.

If she’d looked, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself going after her.

It was better this way for everybody.

Especially Olivia.

* * * * *

7:19 p.m. – That Next Friday

Nick stared at the texts on his phone.

Are you okay?

Missed yesterday. Tonight?

Sebring, is everything okay?

After that, nothing.

His head shot up and his mouth got tight when he saw Turner had slid on the stool next to him. He’d slid off that stool five minutes ago to use the bathroom. He’d returned and Nick was so deep in thought about Olivia, he didn’t feel him come back.

“Responses kinda slow, Sebring,” Turner murmured, eyeing him closely.

Nick didn’t reply. He looked away from his friend, lifting his drink to throw the rest of it back, his eyes catching on a woman’s at the end of the bar who was looking at him.

She gave him the smile that was his opening.

He looked away and threw back his whisky.

He returned his attention to Turner.

“I need another way to get at Harkin and Shade,” he told him.

Turner held his gaze, his lips now thinned.

They unthinned so he could ask, “Are you serious?”

Nick saw the bartender pass, got his attention and jerked up his chin before tipping his head to Eric.

The bartender nodded.

Nick looked back to Turner. “Olivia’s not gonna work.”

“Because she doesn’t know dick that’ll help you or because you like havin’ your dick in her too much to use her to help you?” Turner asked.

“We’re not discussing that,” Nick stated. “You don’t have any ideas, all right. You got thoughts on Olivia you feel like sharing, that’s not happening.”

“Seems there’s a pattern with you, work a job, get pussy during it, you fall for it.”

Nick turned fully to Eric.

“Careful,” he warned.

Turner tilted his head to the side mockingly. “Careful, me talkin’ trash about Hettie or careful me talkin’ trash about Olivia fuckin’ Shade?”

“You hear me say we’re not talkin’ about this?” Nick asked.

“I hear you say we’re not talking about Olivia fuckin’ Shade,” Eric returned.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Nick confirmed.

Turner’s expression shifted from seriously annoyed to pissed before he clipped, “Jesus, brother. She’s Olivia fucking Shade.” He got close and bit out low, “The daughter of the man who ordered Hettie executed.”

Nick’s response was just as low. “I might be wrong but I think I remember that better than you.”

“Seems to me, you protectin’ that bitch, you mighta forgot it.”

“Careful,” Nick repeated, this time in a whisper.

Turner leaned back. “Are you fucking serious? Hettie was yours but she was also a member of my team. She got whacked under my watch. And you get that, Nick. I know you do since you were a member of that team too.”

Their drinks were dropped on the bar and Turner glanced at the bartender as they were.

Nick didn’t take his eyes off Turner and only spoke when the bartender was gone.

Then he asked, “You know what Tom Leary did to earn his acid?”

“Denver lore, brother,” Eric gritted out, still pissed. “Leary a walking, talking lesson to any soldier who done Shade wrong.”

“Yeah, I know that. But do you know why he earned his acid?”

“Not thinkin’ Shade gave a shit what the lesson was for, just that the lesson was learned and not just by Leary but anyone who’d clap eyes on him.”

“Olivia’s back is burned to shit.”

Nick watched Eric’s head twitch violently.

“What the fuck?” he asked quietly.

“Not acid. No clue what it was but it left scars and a lot of them. A fuckuva lot more than Leary earned. Look at Olivia’s, feel it in my scrotum, the pain that had to come with gettin’ those scars.”