Chapter 23 Decisions

Nicholas

A night to remember. Of the bad kind. He had been fucking complacent. He should have known better. Because of his stupidity, he had to watch the nurse while she cleaned Sinclair's deep scratches. His jaw ticking.

Whoever targeted them was an amateur. Thank god or this would have been a different story. The thought of losing Sinclair...He began to pace, coiled, he felt like prowling the city until he found the enemy. Only the immediate need of protecting the love of his life made him pause. He needed to get her home, tucked her into their bed before he could do all those things.

The club had been roused from their sleep, to do what they do best. Investigating, scouting the perimeter for him. An attack on the viscount and his lady was an attack on them all.

"I have to clean your wounds, Redington." Huntley entered the private area in his doctor's white coat. Since Nicholas had arrived with an unconscious Sinclair in his arms, no one had dared attempt tending to his wounds after his outbursts, he was shouting at anyone who dared touch him.

His undivided attention was on his sweetheart. Anxious for her to wake up from the contusion on her temple. Only able to breathe when she opened her eyes. He couldn't care less of his state. He would deal with it later. But EJ was having none of it. "Sinclair, love, help me."

His wife-to-be automatically glanced at him. Her soft brown eyes running up and down his body filled with tears. Upon registering his cuts, blood on his shirt, a sob escaped her lips. A bullet grazed his upper arm, deep enough to cause the bleeding. He couldn't feel the superficial wound. "Nick, please, baby." She implored. Tears trickling down her pale cheeks.

Fuck it! He had worst before during his days as a spy but he didn't want her upset. Nodding briskly, he settled down on a hospital's cot covered in white sheets next to hers. Huntley began to cut Nicholas's ruined shirt. "Any news?" He murmured.

The doctor nodded. "We will be on it as soon as you two get home."

He remained silent. Not wanting to cause more alarm. Planning to join them, he had to make sure Sinclair was safely sleeping in their bed before he did.

There were three suspects. Paul Adley, Tanning's heir, Lady Tanning, or the gang they were after. No matter. He would make sure each of them was eliminated. He wouldn't stop until his sweet was safe.

After dressing his injuries, five stitches in his bullet wound, he listened to EJ assessing Sinclair's medical form. Her CT scan result was out. None the worst for wear. Telling her to come back right away if she felt dizzy or plagued with intense vomiting within the next 24 hours. Nicholas made a mental note to tell Mrs. Dee to check on Sinclair from time to time while he was gone. Or better yet, he would call for reinforcement. He knew the person would jump at the chance.

"Are we clear to go home?" Directing his question to his friend.

"Yes." Huntley nodded. "I'll be at the club later."

Redington ignored assistance, carrying Sinclair securely in his arms. He needed her close. "I can walk, Nick." She weakly protested. "Your stitches." Murmuring, she burrowed her face on his neck, her arms around him.

He glanced down. The pain meds were affecting her. Good. "I want to hold you, sweet. Let me."

She hummed. Falling asleep before he reached their car. Bulletproof SUVs were waiting for them. He nodded to Ricky. One of the heads of security.

He opened the door for Nicholas. His arm was also on a sling. He had run from his post to protect his employer and his lady, and a bullet from an automatic rifle hit him in his shoulder blade. "I have the report, my lord." Just as eager to go on the field and hunt. Though he doubted much the viscount would allow him.

"Good. Wait for me in my office. Double the security. No one comes in and out of my properties without my approval." His voice was grim. The faithful soldier nodded his head, gently closing the car door.

Nicholas rested the back of his head on the seat for a moment, closing his eyes, savoring the weight of a sleeping Sinclair in his arms. A plan was forming in his head. She might not like it. His arms tightening in reflex. Letting her go was not an option no matter how upset she might be.

It's time to make it official.

***

"You are going out again?" Sinclair refused to let him go. Her arms tightened around his neck trying to pull him down with the strength she had left. Disappointment marring her beautiful features. He obliged, his body pressing hers to the downy softness of the mattress.

Nicholas sighed heavily. His forehead touching hers. "Yes. I need to keep you safe. I won't be gone long. Promise." He pecked her nose.

"I need you here." She implored, eyes drooping sleepily. She was fighting it, trying to stay awake for him.

"There is nothing more I want to do than lie with you in my arms. But I must keep you safe." He tried not to sound grave however he couldn't help it. The thought of losing her made him lose control of his urbane self.

She averted her gaze. Thoughts running through her mind. Nodding slightly, she gave her permission. Nicholas released a breath of relief. "Please be careful, baby. I...I can't lose you. You are all I have." She said in a small voice.

He kissed her forehead, her eyes and cheeks, and finally her sweet lips. "You won't. You are stuck with me, sweetheart."

"Stay until I fall asleep." She said. Yawning cutely. His lips quirked.

"Let me help you change first." Sinclair hummed her approval. Too sleepy to care. In no time, she was in his shirt and nothing else.

Tucking her beside him, he combed her hair with his fingers. "Check my laptop before you go? Someone sent me an email. Must be Paul. Maybe you could trace it. I'm..." She yawned again, "...sorry I forget to tell you earlier."

Fuck! He wished he had known sooner. It would have helped him double her security if the threat sent to her email was eminent. He couldn't blame her. With all that had happened, no wonder it had slipped her mind.

He glanced down. Sinclair had fallen asleep at last. There was a bruise darkening on her temple. Her once smooth alabaster cheeks, streaked with abrasions. More on her chest, elbows, and knees when he pushed her face down on the ground. If his reflexes had not been acute, he would not have heard the click of the rifle in time. Suppressing the urge to growl savagely, his lips touched her forehead, he breathed deeply, his heart constricted.

Nicholas held her for a few minutes more. He just needed to absorb the haven his love gave him before joining the chaotic world this evening.

***

-4 fucking AM.-

They had descended upon Paul Adley's lodgings, the bars and clubs he frequented, his dens, and his fraternity house. Nothing. He was nowhere to be found.

Lord Tanning's residence was empty as well. His servants were dismissed. Only a caretaker was left to oversee his London property. No used questioning the old man, he didn't have any idea where the wife was.

Last destination, the slums, they questioned, arrested, prodded anyone with a slight connection to human trafficking, threatened, and tortured. All they got was, the leader was being cautious and laid low. Who the fucking leader was? They had no fucking idea.

Nicholas's frustration was at a high level. He hated the status quo. He hated not knowing what will happen in the next few days. Waiting it out, playing cat and mouse was the name of the game. One he had to endure.

Accepting he had to, he began to pace, sipping his whisky.

"Have you considered bundling her up and sending her to your estate?" Lucien asked.

"Yes. Mama was more than willing to accommodate her future daughter-in-law. The problem is Sinclair. She will be graduating in five weeks. She wouldn't like it." An understatement. In her mind, they were going too fast. Imagine her reaction when he proposed tomorrow, announced his engagement at the Gazette, his mother and sisters organizing their engagement party in a week, and getting married right after she received her diploma. She would be overwhelmed. Sending her away from him would only create more hurdles. Nicholas had no aspirations to start their married life with his new wife hating him. "Besides, she is safer close to me. Where I can reach her right away."

"You've got a point. But you have to make her understand what she will be facing. This is not an idle threat. We are facing unknown enemies. Granted, we know Paul Adley and Lady Tanning, but the rest..." Cerdic left the rest of his words unsaid. Their adversaries were part of the ton. Unnamed. Powerful and influential like them.

"Did Tanning talk?" Huntley asked. "We could ask him about his heir."

"Still unconscious," Sandringham answered without opening his eyes. His body was barely confined on the cream-colored daybed. "You could wake him up. I know you have your ways, doc."

Huntley grunted before speaking. "Tomorrow. He won't be coherent with the amount of morphine I had injected him with. He was barely alive when we got him. Let him recover for a few hours before we start again."

"And Lucifer?" Nicholas asked.

"He knows we still need the bastard," Cerdic assured him. Any information they could get from the old fucker was valuable. "Let's retire for the night. There's not much we can do until Tanning wakes up. You have to go home to your lady, Redington. The rest of us will be staying here at the club."

"What time, Huntley?" He asked. Feeling anxious to go home all of a sudden.

"Midnight. That will give you enough time to convince Sinclair to become your Viscountess." The doctor jested.

"Two thousand pounds she will say yes but no to a wedding before graduation." The marquis uttered sleepily.

-Fuck Sandringham and his wagers.-

"I'll take it," Cerdic answered with a smirk. Mountford and Huntley grinned, agreeing on the bet.

Exasperated, Nicholas bid them goodbye, eager to join Sinclair on their bed. With her in his arms, he could plan better for his proposal.

He'd only hope she would say yes.

***

The first time he saw her, he knew she was the one. He was sure she felt it, too. Waiting had been hard. For several weeks, he longed for her from afar. Planning how to approach her.

Then one night, while prowling the city with the club, at Rose Hill, a not so favorable part of London, inside a diner, he saw her. In a serviceable waitress garb, she looked tired, delicate, and too thin. Nonetheless, she was a vision. A sweet fairy.

Books scattered around her. She hadn't realized he was admiring her from his car's tinted window.

His fellow lords wondered. After some time, he told them. Huntley being the boldest, wanted to test the field. Nicholas let him. He was confident of Sinclair's reaction and he was right.

Before going home, he went to his sister's restaurant, ordering breakfast for his girl. Though he didn't say much, Therese gave him a knowing smile.

Aside from the flowers, the big teddy bear dressed in a black tuxedo and a brand new Mac surrounded with truffles, since that day, he made sure to send her breakfast every morning. Lavishing her gifts made him content.

The second time she approached him, he had decided he would make his move and make her his.

All those memories seemed a long time ago. The morning was late. He refused to get up from their bed. He was holding her like there was no tomorrow. Ready to commit himself to her for the rest of his life.

The question plaguing him was, will she?

There was only one way to find out.

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