Colton 911: Secret Defender Page 2

  “Think of this as putting our minds at rest,” he continued. “Nash has a job to do, I have a business to run, and Damon, well, if Damon doesn’t keep his mind clear and focused on his work, it could very well end up costing him his life.”

  Unwavering, Aaron went in for the kill. “You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Nicole cried with feeling. “But I also don’t want to become an invalid by just surrendering my independence to set everyone’s mind at rest, either. We need a compromise.”

  Aaron sighed. He gave it one last try. “Okay, the way I see it, Mom, hiring someone to help you is a compromise.”

  Nicole met her son’s eyes head-on. “Not hiring anyone would be an even better way to go.”

  “Mom.” There was a warning note in his voice. He was reaching the end of his patience. “This is as far as I’m willing to give in. Now, until the doctor gives you the all clear, you are going to need someone to be here with you when I can’t be, and you are going to have someone. The way I see it, you can either pick out that someone yourself, or I will do it for you,” Aaron said. “Your choice.”

  Nicole frowned. “I don’t really feel like I have a choice.”

  “Trust me, you do,” Aaron told her. “Because if you don’t make a choice here, I will.” Standing over her like this, he knew he was being intimidating—but apparently she needed that. This, he told himself, was for her own good—not to mention his own peace of mind. “So what’s it going to be?”

  Nicole thought of the young woman she had met and talked with during her first physical therapy sessions at the rehab facility after her surgery healed. She had taken an instant liking to Felicia Wagner, a perky, friendly and fresh-faced young woman who was working at the facility part-time.

  Nicole smiled as she raised her eyes to her son’s. “I think I know someone who would be willing to take on the job. It’s a woman I met at rehab.”

  “Ah, finally. Progress,” Aaron declared with a sigh. “Why don’t you give this lady a call? Whatever she wants to be paid—within reason,” he stipulated, not wanting to be taken advantage of, “just say yes. And don’t concern yourself with the cost. I’ll take care of it.”

  Nicole shook her head. “You’re a good son, Aaron, but I can take care of my own bills.”

  He dearly loved this woman, but there were times when she could be exasperatingly pigheaded. “Mom, everything doesn’t have to turn into a tug-of-war. I’m making the request and I’m paying for it. End of discussion,” he told her. And then, looking at her face, he added, “Okay?”

  A gracious smile rose to his mother’s lips as she obligingly nodded her head. In her opinion, she had won. “Okay.”

  Relieved that this argument had finally been put to bed, Aaron bent over and kissed his mother’s forehead. “That’s my girl,” he said with genuine relief.

  He knew how much it had to cost his mother to give in this way. She had always been the last word in independence and for her to agree to have someone come in and stay in the home she considered to be her domain was a huge deal.

  He had to admit that part of him hadn’t expected to win this confrontation so easily. Obviously, playing the “do it for me” card seemed to have worked wonders, he thought, congratulating himself.

  But he wasn’t going to overanalyze it. That kind of thing was for working with the fighters who came to him for guidance and training. His analysis kept them alive and moving up the championship ladder. But this was about his mother and he knew better than to be anything but really, really grateful she had stopped fighting him on this and had agreed to do as he had suggested.

  Right now, it was time to get his mind back on running his gyms. The boxers who sought out his particular gym weren’t there because of the showers and the state-of-the-art weight equipment he had stocked at the gym. They were there to gain insight into his specific training methods as well as the host of other insights that he could offer them.

  “Do you want me to put in that call for you?” he asked his mother.

  Apparently making plans in her mind already, Nicole seemed confused at his question. “To whom, dear?”

  He began to wonder if she had been putting him on after all. “To this person you said you would be willing to have come stay with you until you’re ready to be on your own,” Aaron explained to his mother, enunciating every word.

  Because she loved him, Nicole smiled indulgently. “I still know how to make a phone call, Aaron.”

  “Then you have her number,” he assumed. He knew he was treating his mother like a child and she was going to resent it even if she didn’t show it, but he needed to have all this spelled out so he was sure that she was going to do as he asked and not find some way to wriggle out of it.

  “Yes, dear, I have her number,” she answered patiently. She didn’t roll her eyes, but it was there in her voice.

  “Good. I can make the arrangements,” Aaron offered again.

  This time, his mother did roll her eyes. “Aaron, I said I would take care of it. There may come a day when you will have to take care of me, but—much as I appreciate the thought—that day is not today.”

  “Okay, I get that,” he allowed, looking at the situation from her point of view. “But I still want to meet this ‘caretaker,’” he stressed.

  “And you will, dear—once she accepts the job and has gotten accustomed to staying in this ‘barn of a house’ as you referred to it in the hospital. But for now, just let me handle this my way.”

  He wasn’t about to back away from this totally. “Will I be meeting her soon?” he asked.

  Maybe it was the spill she had taken and the hip fracture that had resulted, but Nicole found that her patience seemed to be in shorter supply than it normally was.

  Still, she managed a civil reply. “Yes, you will be meeting her soon. Felicia is a very sweet, accommodating young woman, so I’m sure she would be willing to put up with your scrutiny.”

  Aaron nodded. “‘Felicia,’” he repeated, rolling her name over on his tongue. “Pretty name.”

  “If her name was Maude, would that disqualify her from the position?” Nicole asked, amused.

  “No, I just—” Aaron paused, realizing what his mother was doing. “You’re yanking my chain, aren’t you?”

  “With both hands, dear,” she answered, flashing a wide smile. “Now, don’t you have a life to get back to?” she asked him. “A life you’ve been away from for much too long?”

  “Nothing is more important than you, Mom,” he answered honestly.

  “I appreciate that, dear,” she said. “But I have taken you away from that gym you worked so hard to get up and running long enough, not to mention the other gyms you’re overseeing. Remember, guilt is not helpful for my recovery.”

  “Point taken.” There was that independence of hers, rearing its head again. “But I still don’t want to leave you alone in the house.”

  She looked at him, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. “I’m not going to fall again.”

  “I wasn’t worried about that,” he answered a bit too quickly.

  He was lying, she thought. “Yes, you were. You have a tell, Aaron,” Nicole said, leaning forward. “When you’re not being completely truthful, you get this little furrow in your brow.” She flittered her fingertips across his forehead. “Now, you don’t have to stay here and hover over me. If it makes you feel any better, Vita is coming over.”

  Vita Yates was her former sister-in-law. The two women were very much alike, both having weathered divorces from their respective Colton husbands and survived the dealings of a viperlike mother-in-law who could have very easily run a school for unemployed witches in her spare time. The two women had bonded early on and their relationship had only grown stronger as the years went by. They also acted as each other’s support group, providing encouragement
when needed most.

  “Aunt Vita?” Aaron asked, surprised. His mother should have told him this to begin with. “You’re sure?” He wanted to be certain his mother wasn’t just trying to get rid of him.

  “Aaron, I broke my hip. I didn’t hit my head and get a brain injury. Yes, I am sure, now go before I show you what a needy, clinging mother can really be like.”

  He made no move to leave. “When is Aunt Vita coming?” he asked.

  The doorbell rang just then. “Now,” Nicole answered with a smile.

  “Okay, you win this one, Mom,” he said as he went to answer the door.

  “I win them all, dear,” Nicole called after her son with a smile.

  Aaron sighed. He knew she was right.

  Chapter 2

  Felicia Wagner pressed the red button on her cell phone, terminating the call she had just received, and smiled.

  Really smiled.

  She couldn’t believe her luck. Something was finally, finally going her way. That lovely woman she had met at the rehab facility where she was working part-time as a physical therapist had just offered her a job. An actual live-in position at her home! And from where she stood, the job was an absolute godsend.

  For the last two years Felicia had been piecing together a meager living, accepting odd jobs that were strictly off the books. She did that because she didn’t want to leave any sort of a paper trail that could ultimately be used to trace her. She was terrified that if she did leave any sort of paper trail, it could be used to pinpoint her current location.

  There was no way in the world that she could afford to take that chance. Doing so, she had no doubt, meant that all hell could very well break loose when she least expected it.

  Felicia had been there before.

  There was a time when she wouldn’t have thought that way, but at this point, after everything that had happened to her in the last few years, Felicia was convinced that Greg, the man she was still trying so desperately to elude, was the type who was capable of anything.

  Better to be floating around anonymously, moving from place to place like a nomad, than to take the chance of him finding her.

  That was why, after the last frightening incident had taken place almost two years ago, Felicia had packed up only her essential belongings, changed her name and moved to Chicago. She did her damnedest to blend in with the crowd.

  And it seemed to be working, at least so far. But she knew better than to let her guard down. Greg Harper was not a man she could afford to underestimate.

  Ever.

  Felicia was convinced that the next time their paths crossed could very well be her last time—permanently. Which was why when she had hesitantly answered her cell phone—a burner phone—and heard Nicole’s sweet, motherly voice on the other end, asking her if she was interested in coming to live with her as her physical therapist/assistant, Felicia thought she had died and gone to heaven. She was close to tears when she accepted the offer.

  “I’m not browbeating you into this, am I?” Nicole had asked after asking her if she would do it. “It’s just that my sons insisted that I don’t stay home alone while I’m ‘convalescing’ with this annoying hip replacement. It seems that all three of the boys are obviously afraid that history might just repeat itself,” Nicole had complained.

  Felicia knew all about history repeating itself. Each time Greg had abused her, he had sworn passionately that it was the very last time. That he was a changed man.

  And she, pathetic, lonely soul that she was, had believed him. Time and again. She was that desperate for her happily-ever-after ending—until she finally had to admit to herself that, at least in her case, the happily-ever-after was never going to happen. Not with Greg, no matter how good-looking and intelligent he was.

  Out loud, though, Felicia had compassionately told the woman, “You really can’t blame your sons for worrying about you, Nicole.”

  “Oh, yes, I can,” Nicole had countered with feeling. “They know me. They know that I’m not one of those frail, delicate women who break if you so much as blow on them,” she had protested.

  “Oh, I know that,” Felicia had said, and not just to placate Nicole. She meant what she said, especially when she added, “But you have no idea how lucky you are to have a family, and one that genuinely cares and worries about you. It’s not something to take for granted.”

  She had sounded so sad that for a moment, the woman on the other end of the call had been at a loss for words. It had convinced Nicole more than ever that this was the right move on her part, offering this position to Felicia. Bringing her into her home, Nicole felt, could help them both do each other some good.

  “Maybe so,” Nicole had agreed. “So you’ll take the job?” she’d asked, quickly adding, “You’ll have your own bedroom and bath,” to sweeten the deal.

  Felicia had laughed then. “You don’t have to sell me on it, Nicole. You had me at, ‘Would you be interested in coming to work for me?’”

  “Good! All right, do you have a paper and pen handy?”

  Everything within the tiny motel room where Felicia was staying—again, temporarily—was within reach. “Yes.”

  “Here’s my address.” Nicole had quickly rattled it off. “How soon do you think you can get here?”

  “How soon do you want me?” Felicia had countered with a smile forming on her lips. She no longer believed in things that were too good to be true, but in this case, she made an exception.

  The job she currently had at the rehab facility was temporary at best, like all her other positions in the last couple of years. And maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, but she had a good feeling about coming to work for Nicole. Equally as good was the fact that the job came with a place to stay.

  One less thing she had to deal with, Felicia had thought, relieved.

  Nicole had laughed at her response. “How long will it take for you to get here?”

  That was when Felicia had thought of a possible problem. “Won’t your sons want to meet me first?” She had gotten very good at anticipating complications.

  “Damon and Nash just want someone here with me. As for Aaron, my oldest, he has put himself in charge of my life, but don’t worry about him. At bottom, he wants me happy, and having you living here instead of some fussy, bossy nurse watching my every move would definitely make me happy—so he’s not going to give me an argument about choosing you.”

  Nicole Colton was one of a kind, Felicia had thought with a smile, once again glad that she had met her. “Okay, if you say so.”

  “Oh, I definitely say so,” Nicole had assured her with feeling.

  Once again Felicia thought that this was almost too good to be true, afraid to allow herself to believe this was really happening.

  “And you really want me there as soon as I can manage it?” Felicia had asked, wanting to make sure that she wasn’t just allowing wishful thinking to govern her actions.

  “Sooner if possible,” Nicole had replied. “Now, stop talking and start packing, girl, because the sooner you get over here, the sooner Aaron is going to have to stop threatening me with bringing in squadrons of nurses and housekeepers.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it put quite that way before,” Felicia had said with a laugh.

  “That’s because you’ve never met anyone like my oldest boy,” Nicole told her. “Actually, he’s not a boy—he keeps reminding me of that,” Nicole had confessed. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. No matter how old your kids get, they will always be your kids. Even when Aaron became this big, brawny professional boxer, I couldn’t get myself to stop worrying that he was going to wind up getting seriously hurt in the ring.”

  Nicole’s description had given her pause. “Your son’s a professional boxer?”

  “He was,” Nicole had answered. “Before he got injured. Luckily, it wasn�
�t anything overly serious—just enough to keep him out of the ring, thank heavens. Now he runs a gym. Actually,” she had amended, “he runs several gyms. That makes me feel a whole lot better about his chosen profession. People who own gyms don’t get hurt, at least not like the way a professional boxer can. Anyway,” Nicole had said abruptly, “I’ve talked much too much. We can continue this conversation—if you’re interested, of course—when you get here.”

  Actually, Felicia had thought, she was interested in continuing the conversation. Having no family of her own, she was hungry for any kind of details when it came to someone else’s.

  “It’s a deal,” Felicia had told her just before she terminated the call.

  Felicia paused just long enough after the call ended to pinch herself.

  And smiled. Broadly.

  Then she went to pull the meager wardrobe she had escaped with out of her closet.

  That was the only way she could describe what she had done. Escaped. Because even though she hadn’t been married to Greg all that long, when he showed up on her doorstep that last time and threatened to end her life, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to “quietly walk away” anymore. She had truly felt as if her life was in serious danger.

  Moreover, she had found, much to her disappointment, that there was no help—or hope—forthcoming from the police in her case. When Greg had appeared on her doorstep, drunk and blaming her for absolutely everything that had gone wrong in his life, she had somehow managed to get away and call the police. The police had come quickly enough, but after questioning Greg, they didn’t make an arrest. The way they saw it, they explained, it was only her word against her ex-husband’s.

  They did escort Greg from her apartment, but that didn’t do her any good, since they ultimately did let him go free.