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Chapter Twenty Five – June 19/June 20

--Olivia--

We spent the night at a hotel while crews cleaned the inside of our house from top to bottom. I had a feeling my mom was out with Michael. Angel was in the hotel room next door. The whole ordeal with Aaron had left her pretty shaken up.

“You know, I’m not overly attached to the house,” Nick said that night as he crawled into bed.

“You love that house,” I argued.

“I’m thinking we should pick out something together. I mean, we’re starting our life together as a married couple; we might as well start our life with a new home.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. I could practically feel the cold metal gun still pressed into my back. When I closed my eyes, I saw the dead officer and the pool of blood spilling out onto the floor. Unfortunately, mixed with these thoughts was the dream Nick and I had of our little one crawling up the stairs. Now the stairs in my vision had blood stains on them.

“Liv?” I could hear the worry in Nick’s voice. I opened my eyes.

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t think I could walk to that nursery without seeing a dead body in my mind.”

Nick nodded.

“And as much as I love the beach, it’s not the safest place to raise a baby,” he added.

Nick scooted closer to me; his arms looped around me. We both looked over to see our little bundle sleeping peacefully in the bassinet.

“Is life ever going to slow down?” I thought out loud. Nick clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

“I can’t imagine anything else that could happen that would throw me for a loop,” he said.

I couldn’t argue with that. I snuggled closer to his chest and tried to relax. Without saying a word, we had both left on a small nightlight. Yet, even with the soft yellow light illuminating the dark corners, it still took me a long time to fall asleep. When I did, my dreams were plagued with unsettling thoughts of gunshots and Brooklyn being taken from my arms. Several times I jolted awake just to find Nick watching me.

“You need to sleep,” I finally whispered as I woke up for the fifth time. It was three o’clock in the morning.

“I’m fine,” he answered. “Just rest.”

--------------------------------------

I gave up on sleep by seven o’clock in the morning. Nick had showered and shaved. He was sitting at the little table in our room, holding Brooke. I wrapped my arms around my knees, watching them for a few minutes. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact it felt nice. After a few seconds it dawned on me that in the hellish events of the day before I had forgotten something extremely important.

“Nick,” I said softly. “Yesterday was Father’s Day.”

Nick laughed quietly. “I know.”

“I forgot. I’m sorry”

“We were a little distracted. Besides, every day for me is Father’s Day.”

He flashed me a gorgeous, proud smile. “And I have you to thank. I wouldn’t be able to celebrate without your hard work.”

I felt a rush of feminine pride. Nick glanced lovingly down at Brooke.

“Plus, the greatest gift I could ever get is to know that the two of you are safe.”

He walked to the bed and leaned down for a kiss. I happily obliged. As he pulled away, there was a knock on the door. Nick gently put Brooke in my arms and walked over to the door. He paused for a moment, looking through the peephole, and then opened the door. It was Angel.

“Hey guys,” she said quietly. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She looked like she hadn’t slept a wink.

“Hey Angel,” Nick said. He hugged her tightly. When she pulled away she tried to force a smile.

“Listen, I just came to give you a head’s up. Media is swarming all over the lobby.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s all over the news this morning. My cell phone has been ringing off the hook. Yours hasn’t?”

“We turned our phones off,” Nick admitted.

I turned on the TV. Sure enough, the Today Show was running the story. Pictures of the house, the police tape, and photographs of Aaron flashed across the screen. Finally, the picture of Nick and I taken by People magazine before Brooklyn was born was shown. The story’s headline scrolling along the bottom read: “Brotherly Love? Former tween sensation Aaron Carter arrested in human trafficking plot involving older brother, Backstreet Boy Nick Carter, his fiancée, and daughter.”

“Perfect,” Nick said tonelessly. He walked over to the window and peeled back the curtain. He groaned.

“There’s got to be fifteen news vans out there.”

“Do you want me to go down and give a statement on the family’s behalf?” Angel asked. Nick looked at her and shook her head.

“Angel, you’ve done enough. I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll just call my publicist and release a statement through her. Sit down, we just ordered breakfast.”

Angel came and sat down with me on the bed. She leaned over and kissed the top of Brooke’s head.

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said quietly. Nick leaned against the wall and then slid down into a sitting position, his phone pressed to his ear.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Bull,” I said. “This has to be harder on you than anyone else. He’s your twin. I can’t even begin to fathom how hard it was to lead him into a trap.”

Angel’s bottom lip quivered but she took a deep breath and regained control.

“The man I dealt with yesterday isn’t the Aaron any of us used to know,” she said quietly. “He’s gone. In my mind that Aaron truly did die jumping off the lighthouse in Cozumel.”

She began to cry. Juggling Brooklyn’s weight, I reached over with one free arm and squeezed her. After several minutes she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m done,” she said. “We’re moving on.” She looked at me and smiled. “We still have a wedding to get through. You’re still marrying my brother right?”

I glanced over at Nick. He was picking his toenail as he talked. I smiled.

“Absolutely.”

---------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day was a giant blur. Nick and I both came to the conclusion that we couldn’t stay at the hotel for any length of time. We needed someplace that had a larger refrigerator and room for Brooklyn’s stuff. It was amazing how much stuff a baby needed. We had already gone through three outfits, numerous bottles, and an indeterminable amount of diapers.

Luckily, Nick had his “people” on the case and I had Angel. Angel had wheeled Brooklyn’s bassinet to her room so that we could make phone calls without interruption. Nick’s publicist had issued a statement regarding the Aaron incident that was now being shown on all the news channels. The house was off limits because of its crime scene status, but after calling and talking to Michael, I arranged for Brooklyn’s nursery furniture and clothing to be taken out. Having an FBI agent as my mom’s boyfriend had its perks.

“Where does it need to go?” Michael asked.

“Hold that thought,” I said, cupping the phone. Nick was on his cell talking with yet another contact. He looked up.

“Michael wants to know where to take the crib.”

“”Give me one second,” Nick said. He listened to the voice on the other end of the line for a few more moments and then looked back over at me.

“53215 Sugar Crest Road.”

I gave Michael the address and hung up. Nick finished his phone call not long after and fell backwards on the bed. His eyes crossed as he looked upside down at me.

“What’s 53215 Sugar Crest Road?”

Nick smiled. “Temporary housing. Leigh hooked me up through her contacts at the brokerage office.”

“That fast?”

Nick grinned and flipped over on his stomach. “Team Backstreet moves fast.”

“Team Backstreet? Is that like Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

He laughed. “I’m so Team Jacob.”

“You would be.”

“Hey, Team Jacob’s much cooler. Seriously, who would want to be a sparkling vampire when you could rip people’s throats out with your claws and fangs? Plus you get tight abs with natural genetics. I’d love to not have to work so hard to be this good-looking.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. He belched.

“That was the most narcissistic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, so you’re Team Edward?”

I groaned loudly. Nick laughed.

“Right now I’m Team Howie. Anyone that gets us out of here is amazing in my book.”

Nick crawled up to me. His hands snaked around my waist and I fell back into the pillows. A second later his nose was practically touching mine.

“You’re not Team Nick?” he asked softly.

Now, let me tell you from experience: it’s hard not to be on Team Nick when you’re staring right into his eyes and his hands have slipped under your shirt. I bit my lip as his fingertips gently circled my breasts.

“Absolutely not,” I said shakily. “Can’t stand the guy.”

“Really?”

I nodded, but his head dipped; I felt his lips drawing on my neck underneath my ear. My right hand pressed against his hip as if he were an anchor that I desperately needed to hold onto.

“Maybe I can change your mind,” he murmured as he licked and nipped. He tugged the sleeve of my shirt down to reveal a bare shoulder. I felt his teeth gently graze my skin. His hands worked their way from my breasts to my back. Before I knew it, my hips were raised and my pants were off.

“Seems like I remember someone getting a Team Nick tattoo,” he teased. I never thought toothpaste could be sexy, but the lingering smell of spearmint was driving me nuts.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said breathlessly. He grinned. Before I could stop him, his strong arms flipped me over. My face landed into the soft pillow; I felt the back of my shirt lift up and his fingers trail across the tattoo. I propped myself up on my elbows and with a slight wiggle, I let the shirt slide over my head. His hands gripped my bare waist and I could hear his breathing speed up as it always did before we made love. As I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw Nick strip off his shirt. He had nothing on Team Jacob; I could crack egg shells on his chest. As my eyes trailed up from his chest, I met his gaze and I froze. At that moment I felt like Little Red Riding Hood; Nick was the Big Bad Wolf.

And something told me I was about to be eaten.