Her hands shake as she talks, and I reach across the table to take them in mine.
“I should have known better than to go alone. But I needed that money. When I got there, he was drunk. Mean drunk, the way he used to get during our marriage.” Her voice cracks, all pretense of calm gone. “I couldn’t let him hit me, not when I was carrying Austin. So when he came at me, calling me names, slapping me around... I ran to the kitchen. I just wanted to scare him with the knife, make him back off. But he wouldn’t stop.”
I can picture it perfectly. Nina, pregnant and terrified, facing down that piece of shit who’d already proven he had no problem hurting her.
"The knife went into his chest," she whispers. "He looked so surprised. Then he just... collapsed." Her voice breaks and she takes a shaky breath. "There was so much blood, Alessio. I keptwaiting for him to get back up, to come after me again, but he didn't move. I was so scared I could barely think straight, but I made myself check for a pulse." She swallows hard. "There was nothing."
I squeeze her hands tighter. “You did what you had to do. Where did you put him?”
“Under the shed foundation. I thought...” She swallows hard. “I thought no one would ever find him.”
“But they did.”
“A developer bought the whole block. Tore everything down.” Her hands shake. “Alessio, what if I go to prison? What happens to Austin?”
The fear in her voice ignites something primitive and violent in my chest. Prison? Over defending herself and my son against a piece of shit who deserved everything he got?
Not fucking likely.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I tell her, meaning every word. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and our kid. Anyone with half a brain will see that.”
And fuck, part of me is proud of her for it. She was pregnant, scared, alone, and she still found the strength to fight back. To protect what was ours before I even knew it existed. That’s the mother of my child, the woman I love. A survivor.
A knock on the door cuts our time short. I stand, leaning down to brush a kiss across her forehead.
For a second I let myself breathe with her, and the weight of it all hits me so hard I have to close my eyes.
I let the feeling hang for one breath, then cork it away and put my game face on.
“Don’t say another word to them,” I murmur against her skin. “Let King handle the legal shit. I’ll handle everything else.”
Outside the station, I’m already dialing Shaw before I reach my car.
“I need everything you can find on Sheriff Dearborn,” I bark when he picks up. “Bank records, internet history, phone calls, who he’s fucking, who he owes money to. Everything.”
“How fast do you need it?”
“Yesterday.”
“Consider it done.”
I hang up and stare at the police station through my windshield. Nina's scared shitless that the system is going to crush her for killing a piece of shit who deserved what he got.
But she's not helpless. She's got me.
And by the time I’m done, Sheriff Dearborn is going to wish he’d left well enough alone.
39
NINA
Walkingout of the police station two hours later feels like stepping into an alternate reality.
My name is cleared. The detectives who dragged me away from the hospital are now apologizing for the inconvenience. The nightmare that’s haunted me for seven years is over.
Just like that.
I slide into the passenger seat of Alessio’s car, still numb with disbelief. He’s watching me with quiet concern, eyes soft with worry.
