Crude Heir (Billionaire Heirs #3)

Chapter 19

Nicole

With a heavy heart, I pull the zipper across my bag. The sense of loss is overwhelming. I reach for my phone to call for a car as I head to the living room. Again, a huge amount of money I shouldn’t be spending if I’m leaving. Then again, I won’t be using that card after today.

Leaving, I draw in a breath and look up at the image of the virgin. La Virgen de Guadalupe, my grandmother’s patron saint. I drop my luggage on the love seat and rush back to pluck the six-by-nine image in the bronze frame off my bookcase. I bring it with me and stuff it into my bag.

The Virgin stares down at me, seeming disappointed with my selfishness. I switch back to my phone, making one last call. The phone rings. I bring up my thumbnail, setting the tip at my teeth as I try to figure out what to say. The phone rings again, putting my nerves on edge. I should have called last night.

I walk to the stove and open the oven. On the third ring, she finally picks up.

“Abuela.” I force a smile into my voice as I switch to Spanish.

“Nicole,” she says, sounding surprised. “I didn’t realize the phone service was back, mija .”

“You lost service?” Why didn’t I check on her when Derrick mentioned it? I force my mind away from him and everything else that happened last night. “What about the other utilities? Are you safe? Do you have groceries?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she says, dismissing my concern. “My back hurts with the weather.” I can picture her putting her hand at her lower back. The way she hitches her shoulders, like what she’s going through is to be expected. “That’s going to happen when you grow old.”

“Yes, Grandma.” My smile fades, knowing I won’t get to see her when she’s older. Who’s going to be there to make sure she’s okay?

“And you, mija ?” She switches her attention to me. “Did you lose power?”

“We lost power at work.” The memory of Derrick coming for me fills my mind. “It rained so hard that part of the city’s flooded.”

“But you’re safe?” she asks, needing reassurance.

“Yes, I just got home.” My heart aches again at the way I left. At the way I left him . That expression he had will be with me forever, which is both a blessing and a curse at this point.

“What’s wrong?” Her tone changes, becoming serious, as if she’s caught that something’s going on. There’s no hiding anything from her. It’s been like that my whole life.

“It’s time, Grandma,” I say, unable to hide my sadness.

It doesn’t take more than a second for her to figure out what I mean. “Nicole.” The pain in her voice is unmistakable. “What happened, mi vida ?”

“I was found out.” I sniff as my eyes tear up. “A man…” How do I even begin to explain? There’s no way I could tell her what happened. What I did with him all that time. “A man I work with.”

“Is that where you were?” she asks, sending heat to singe my cheeks.

“Abuela…” While I don’t say it out loud, my tone questions how she could possibly pose that question.

“You mentioned you just got home,” she says softly. “And I hear something in your voice.”

I blink back tears, biting down on my lip to keep from saying more. It’s not a conversation I could ever have with her. Even though she’s already guessed it on her own.

“Yes.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“You go back to him, mija ,” she says, in that wise way of hers, shocking me to silence. “You give that man whatever he wants, if it keeps you safe.”

“How could you say that?” It would be sentencing me to a future in prison, or jail. I don’t know what the authorities will do with me.

“I can’t live with not knowing where you are, Tesoro . Without knowing you’re safe and alive.” Her treasure. It’s what she called me when she sat me down and changed my life forever.

A knock sounds at the door, three times in firm, rapid succession. I spin around, my heart beating in my throat. The light that normally comes in through the peephole is obscured by whoever’s outside.

“ Abuela , I have to go.” My voice trails off as my stomach threatens to spill what little contents I may still be holding.

“Santa Virgin Madre,” she says, calling out to the Virgin, in panic. “Is he there? Is someone at your door?”

“I’ll be fine,” I mumble, not feeling a single word of it, then press the button to end the call.

Swallowing hard, I take slow steps to the door, fearing the worst. I have a death grip on my cell as I go up on tiptoes to check the peephole.

Derrick. I suck in a breath. He’s at the door, his gaze aimed directly on the peephole, as if he knows I’m looking through.

How did he find me? My records. I knew it. I should have just picked up and left. If only I hadn’t stopped to make the call. I bite my lip. No, I couldn’t leave. Maybe if I’d waited to call her once I was on the road.

“Open. The. Door,” he says through gritted teeth.

Defeated, I drop my head against the hollow wood. I lift my hand to the lock, barely able to feel anything through my numb fingers. I’m getting light-headed. My breath is hardly enough to nourish my body.

I straighten and turn the dead bolt. The ominous click sends my pulse pounding in my chest. The doorknob turns with a protesting squeak, then I pull the door open a few inches and look out at him. His expression is set at hard angles. The muscle at his cheek ticking, his gaze the epitome of cold intimidation.

Oh Lord…angry men. It’s enough to start me trembling where I stand. But the fear of angry men has been with me ever since I can remember. I swallow hard, trying to push the lump past the hollow in my chest.

His gaze goes right above me. I follow suit to find the security chain stretched from the wall to the door. Oh. I close the door and fumble with the anchor as I try to keep from dropping my phone. But I’m shaking and my fingers have lost all strength.

My phone lands by my foot, but I’m more concerned about Derrick and getting the door open before he gets even madder.

The chain falls to one side, removing one obstacle. I sacrifice one precious second trying to remember if anyone was with him. Did he bring the police? I’m drawing a blank. I was too focused on him. Why didn’t I think to check?

I reach for the doorknob and turn. With a shuddering breath, I pull the door open, glancing behind him to find him alone. That’s one, small, concession. I force myself to back up and let him in.

He steps through the doorway, clamping a hand on my forearm. I swallow hard as he crowds me against the wall. He keeps his gaze locked with mine. The man I see there is cold, heartless. Then the sound of the dead bolt sliding home fills the room with finality.