AN: Hey! Back with another update. I'm too exhausted to write a long author's note, so I'll just say thank you to the loyal readers and reviewers. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and appreciate what these two silly characters do best. Read, enjoy, and review!

Hush

26. Chase

Wide open sky wrapped around the arid earth. Not a single cloud to sully the gradient of blue. The visor was down and her Ray-Bans were up, shielding her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. Looking out on the road ahead, Amanda watched as heat waves rose off the concrete.

Traffic was light enough to keep moving, but heavy enough that she could tail Ben's car up highway 24 without drawing suspicion. Amanda tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as the cars slowed and approached a busy exit. She had the volume up on the radio, but her ears were tuned to the hum of rubber tires decelerating and braking.

Ben's black SUV was two cars in front of her. She could barely make out the shape of his head, but knew he was sporting a pair of aviator sunglasses. As she passed the exit, the car in front of her signalled to go to the rightmost lane. The driver stalled. Ahead, Ben's car surged forward down the open road. Amanda honked her horn and the driver in front of her switched lanes suddenly, nearly causing a collision. An oncoming car stepped on the brakes fast enough, screeching and burning tires on the concrete.

Pressing her foot on the pedal, Amanda accelerated past the speed limit. She maneuvered around the two lanes, passing cars and ignoring the collective middle fingers she received from many of the drivers who had 'baby on board' stickers.

Eventually, she caught sight of the SUV and she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't lost him. Darting her eyes to the GPS, she realized they had passed another exit leading to one of the places she suspected he was keeping the girls.

The traffic had thinned and she had no choice but to drive behind Ben's car. She adjusted the baseball cap, lowering it slightly so it would cover her face. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. If Ben paid attention to the car and the plates, he would have known immediately that he was being followed.

Amanda knew she should have been more careful, but the fog of this undercover operation blinded her from knowing what Ben was capable of.

Half an hour down a long straight, Ben took an exit. It was a small town with big-box stores and parking lot after parking lot. As she advanced on his vehicle, the side roads had become few and far between. The generic town dissolved into row upon row of tall pines. The road narrowed into two lanes, and she could feel the wind blowing past every time a car drove on the opposite side. She tried to maintain her distance, but knew she would have to turn back soon. The long straight ahead of her meant the chase was over; she couldn't continue following him without getting caught.

Amanda turned into a side road and stopped the car, wheels kicking dirt and gravel into the air. Her knuckles were white. She was frustrated. This far into the case with less than a month left to complete the assignment, and she felt like she was languishing.

On the passenger seat, the unopened boxes of pregnancy tests taunted her. She couldn't decide which was worse — failing the investigation or coming out of it a mother.

She leaned her forehead against the wheel and clasped her hands over her head. Her back heaved and she sobbed, letting the tears fall.

12 hours ago

"Do you think the NYPD knows?"

Nick glanced in her direction, the space between his brows knotted in confusion. "Know about what?"

"Everything," Amanda answered vaguely. She hopped off the kitchen counter where she and Nick were prepping dinner. They were attempting to make spaghetti bolognese — a recipe he learned from his Italian grandfather. She picked up the wooden spoon and ran her finger down the length of it, picking up some sauce before sticking her finger in her mouth. "You know? The trafficking ring and how it's connected to the sex society. Don't you think the NYPD knows about the Madame? If people like Conroy are paying to be part of the society, she must be blackmailing them to keep them quiet. And in turn, they're protecting her."

She held up the spoon to his mouth and he tasted it for himself, nodding approvingly when it tasted decent enough. It didn't hold a candle to his grandfather's bolognese, but Amanda still claimed she could devour the entire pot in one sitting.

"There's no question. I agree Conroy is dirty. But we don't know for sure if there are other people in the department involved."

Amanda raised her brows, and gave him a challenging look. "Finch."

"Finch isn't NYPD."

"But he's still a cop," she argued. "Nick, wake up. There's a sex trafficking ring that's been running for years, and no one's ever come this close to finding out who's behind it. Someone in the department is covering it up."

"You do remember it was my bosses who sent us here, when APD didn't want you touching this case."

She stood opposite him and maintained eye contact. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips, while he was leaned casually against the kitchen counter.

"You're not listening to me," she said.

"Amanda." He groaned as he turned around to focus on the pot on the stove. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Someone like Conroy — someone that high up should be raising red flags."

"And I said I agreed with that," Nick replied exasperatedly. "But I really don't think this is some conspiracy. Yeah, there's a possibility Conroy knows about this investigation, but it didn't have to go through his desk before it got approval. There's just as much of a chance that he doesn't know we're undercover."

"I think he knows." Amanda chewed on her lip and scratched the side of her neck. "If he knows, I don't see what would stop him from alerting the Madame."

Nick sighed and looked over his shoulder to meet her eyes. "I'll talk to my captain and ask him what we should do next."

"Wait. Before you do that, I think we should hold off on telling your squad until we have more evidence."

"You want to wait for the next party?"

"No," she answered. "We need to get to the Madame before the next party."

It was like déjà vu. Waking up at the crack of dawn because he could sense the cold emptiness from the other side of the bed. Nick supposed he should have expected it, especially after he disagreed with her about NYPD's role in the trafficking ring. He wasn't the least bit surprised Amanda had left without telling him — that he was, again, kept out of the picture of her plans. It was almost her subconscious way of expressing her defiance.

Amanda was gone. She took the car with her. He left her calls and messages he knew she wouldn't answer. He was angry about it, no doubt; but there was a passiveness to his anger. The absence of trust had irritated him in the beginning, but now it just made him weary.

Nick hated feeling helpless. And, while normally he would have channeled this feeling through a restless search for Amanda's whereabouts, he was too resentful to act on it. At its worst, he almost wished something would go wrong just to teach her a lesson.

He took it back faster than he could finish the thought. The guilt tethered to his gut, anchoring him down to a state of powerlessness.

The shock of cold as he dove into the pool intensified those thoughts borne of insecurity. Nick had hoped that swimming would help clear his mind, but the silence underwater had only turned up the volume. The shame he felt for hoping she would be in danger just so she would see the error of her ways, just so he could say 'told you so', just so he could swoop in and be her saviour — it was slow-acting poison flowing through his veins.

After swimming a series of laps, he surfaced at the edge of the pool. His back was turned, but he heard the collection of voices coming from the patio. Rubbing the water out of his eyes, he caught Paula winking in his direction. Grace was serving brunch outside and she had invited the real housewives of Southampton — or at least, most of them; Violet wasn't in attendance.

The women sat around the table, smiling and laughing while sipping mimosas. Grace's eyes connected with his, and she waved at him. "Nicolas, come join us for breakfast."

He smiled and waved at the women, before he swam to the opposite end of the pool. Resting his forearms on the edge, he looked up to see Grace and her country club friends staring at him.

Bronwyn pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. "Had I known you had this handsome man swimming laps in your pool, I would have come over more often."

"That's right," Paula added, "you never mentioned the eye candy in your invitation."

"Oh, ladies. The man is married." Grace cast a smirk in his direction. "And quite happy, too, might I add. Aren't you, Nicolas?"

He blinked back dumbly, forgetting the question momentarily. Grace's brows arched, her mouth curling into a slight frown. Combing his hair back, he then nodded. "Yeah. I'm happier than I've ever been."

"Why don't you take a little break from your workout?" asked Bronwyn.

"Yes. Come chat with us," added Sally Livingston.

"I'd love to, but I really should head back." Nick got out of the pool and walked over to the recliner where he had left his towel. He didn't miss the way the women ogled him as he towelled himself dry. While he found it rather flattering, it made him feel uneasy. He expected it at the sex parties, where he knew Paula was always in attendance, but here, in Grace's home — they could have been a little more discreet.

"Nicolas, would you mind coming here for a second?" Grace asked sweetly. "I promise we won't keep you long."

Hanging the towel over his shoulders, he approached the women. A spread of jewelry over navy velvet was laid out on the table. He didn't know much about diamonds but based on the sheer size and the intricate cuts, he knew some of those pieces were well worth over a million dollars.

"We'd love to get a man's opinion on what to wear for next week's fundraiser at the club. A jeweller has asked us to wear some of his pieces to help auction them off for charity," Grace explained as she picked up one of the necklaces. The stones caught the light, radiating rainbows of colour on the deep velvet.

"Uh… I really don't know much about jewelry," he admitted.

"Nonsense!" Bronwyn cried out, her hand slapping his bicep. She kept her hand on him, the warmth of her skin a contrast to the cool water dotted on his arm. "I've seen that ring on your wife's finger. You have fabulous taste."

Nick looked over the options on the table. They were all impressive, but most were on the ostentatious side. He could see them being displayed in a museum, but it almost seemed too garish on a woman. "Ok. Well… I think I like this one the most." He picked up a delicate white gold chain with a thin disc surrounding a single, yet significantly sized diamond.

"It's a little small." Paula sulked, shoulders dropping.

"Rather simple," Bronwyn added to the disappointment.

He chuckled softly, his nose crinkling in amusement. He didn't pick the one necklace because it was probably the only thing below six figures, but because it was the only one he could picture Amanda wearing.

"I think it looks understated yet chic," Sally said. "Classically beautiful just like his wife."

"Speaking of Amanda, where is she?" Grace asked. "You must tell her to come join us and pick out what she'd like to wear to the fundraiser."

"She went out to run some errands, but when she gets back, I'll let her know."

"Oh, I think she's back." Bronwyn spoke up. She waved at Amanda, who was walking briskly down the earthen path to the cabin. "Amanda, darling!"

She waved back, but she kept walking. "Hi y'all! Really nice seeing you ladies." And with that she turned down the embankment before any of the women could call for her to join them. Grace had her arm raised, and she slowly set it down. Her brows were knotted in confusion, and she smiled at her guests, hoping to placate the awkwardness of what had just happened.

"That was a little rude," Paula observed, before sipping her mimosa.

"Sorry," Nick apologized. "She's been feeling under the weather these past few days. I told her she should be getting some rest, but you know how stubborn…" He chose not to finish the thought when he noticed how it piqued the women's interest. "Actually, I'm sorry. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on my wife."

"Phillip mentioned she was sick," Grace said. "I hope she's all right."

"Tell her I hope she feels better soon," Sally added.

"Yes, please, Nicolas. Send Amanda our regards."

He nodded. "I will."

"Amanda!"

She heard his calls — Nick was sure of it — but she kept stalking toward the cabin. "Wait up!" Her steps became faster, her strides longer. She raced down the embankment as soon as she was outside the line of sight of Grace and her friends. He sprinted after her, the water on his skin wicking away into the humid air.

He whipped the door open, slamming it against the wall. He barrelled in, yelling her name.

She was pacing as her hands were running through her hair. Behind her, the view was serene — a calm sea as flat as the clear, blue sky. It was so far removed from the storm that was about to descend upon her.

"When I call, you answer!" He barked, a flicker of regret marring his face when he realized he sounded just like his father.

She sneered, looking up at the ceiling while shaking her head.

His hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing so she'd face him. Her chin jutted out as she stared back defiantly. His eyes burned intensely, trying to figure out why she insisted on keeping secrets from him. "What the fuck was that? And where the hell have you been?"

She shoved him off. Nick took a step back, his palms tingling from the loss of contact. Crossing her arms, Amanda walked around him to create some distance.

"Answer my question!" He spun around to see her standing on the other side of the coffee table. She stared at him blankly, her head tilted to the side. "The silent treatment? Again?"

She shrugged.

Groaning, Nick ran his hand over his face. He could feel the blood rushing up his neck, the throbbing veins pulsing with fire. Without thinking, he picked up a glass object from the desk; he wasn't even entirely sure what it was — some ornamental tchotchke the Huxleys acquired through their travels. Next thing he knew, it shattered on the hard wood. From the corner of his eye, he watched Amanda's shoulders rise and her eyes screw shut.

"Fuck!" That full-circle moment was complete. He was his father.

She opened her eyes, her chest heaved in a sustained breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He knew it sounded stupid. It wasn't like he accidentally destroyed property. His anger, as per usual, had caused him to act impulsively. "I'm not sorry that I'm angry though," he said quietly as he looked up to meet her eyes. "I'm really sick of you lying to me. I thought we had settled all our issues. I thought I'd made it clear that you could trust me, but apparently you still don't think I deserve to be a part of this investigation."

She ignored him, walking toward the stairs.

"Amanda, I'm tired of proving myself to you."

"I never asked you to do that," she declared as she stopped in her tracks.

"No, you never did, because you never gave me a chance in the first place."

She reached the stairs, her hand resting on the banister.

"Don't walk away from me." Any second now, he would ignite and he would shatter more than just some silly, little decorative object. "Where were you?"

"You don't need to know."

He took a wide stance and clenched his jaw. "Amanda, where were you?"

She looked over her shoulder and sighed. "I followed Finch."

"Why?" he asked, biting the inside of his cheek as he immediately thought of the worst case scenario. He needed to remind himself that she was standing right in front of him; she was completely unharmed, as far as he could tell. "Is it because you ran into his wife the other day? What were you planning to do exactly? Avenge her?"

"No. I thought he would lead me to the girls."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important."

"How many times do we have to have this discussion? I told you that I need to be a part of this investigation just as much you do."

She didn't say a word. She took a step down the stairs and paced. Standing on the other side of the table, they maintained their distance. Her back was turned and her hands clutched her arms, protecting her body. Nick could read her body language. She would always breach his trust, because that was something she always would do. It wouldn't matter if he was good to her. As long as Amanda believed she was bound to break everything good in her life, she would never trust or depend on him.

"I was looking for Kim," she confessed.

"So?"

"My sister assaulted you. Forgive me for wanting to keep you away from her. I know she might not be someone worth saving to you, but she's still my family."

"So you assumed I wouldn't understand?" He asked in disbelief, his voice rising once again. Never did he say Kim wasn't worth saving, despite what she had done to him. To both of them. "Thanks for caring about my feelings," he added sarcastically, "but the last thing I need is you keeping things from me in an attempt to protect me."

"I didn't tell you because I didn't need your protection. I was just following him, ok? If he led me to Kim then I wasn't going to act until I had back-up." She gave him a serious look. "You're looking at me like you don't believe me."

"You've lied to me over and over again. Honestly, I don't know if I could ever believe you."

"Fine!" she cried out. "Don't believe me!"

"That's easy." He scoffed, folding his arms across his puffed-out chest. "I'd be stupid to fall for anything that comes out of your mouth."

"Fuck you, Nick."

He crossed the room, cornering her until her back hit the wall. His furious glare drifted from her eyes to her lips. She turned her head so she wasn't looking at him; but his hands were planted on the wall, on either side of her. He lowered his head, tilting it to the side. "What did you say?"

Chin up and chest out, she stared at him defiantly. "I said," she hissed, her teeth gritting, "Fuck you, Nick."

He pressed himself into her, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin cotton of her shirt. The softness of her body contrasted the hard planes of his torso, and the solid bulge that pushed against her stomach. Amanda's lids fluttered, sensing the shifting tension in the room.

She lifted her mouth to his, the space between them as thin as paper. It was a waiting game to be kissed. Nick dipped his head, capturing her lips. And just like that they went from zero to sixty. Arching her back, she allowed for the kiss to deepen.

As he pressed hard, feeling the strain against his swim shorts, they grew more urgent. They were pouring liquid, molten anger into the kiss, letting the pent-up frustration direct their movements. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, his hand travelling from the wall to cup her neck. With his hand enclosing her throat, he lifted her head slightly to add another layer of control to the kiss.

Pulling away, he watched her face as she gasped for breath. Blindly, she searched for his mouth and when she couldn't quite reach him, she ground her hips into his. Nick groaned, his muscles straining. "I hate you."

"Fuck you, Nick."

The words had emboldened him, and he grew painfully hard in his shorts. He rasped a string of Spanish curses, as she licked her lips a juicy pink. Her hand drifted up to lay on top of the one he wrapped around her neck. She pushed a little harder, forcing him to tighten his grip. His eyes widened, not wanting to cause her any real pain.

Her voice came out in ragged breaths but he could make out every single sordid word. "You ever think of wrapping your hands around my neck while you're fucking me?"

"Shut up." His base instincts pushed him to tighten his hold and her mouth gaped and eyes bulged. He released her, his shallow breaths rivalling hers. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. He couldn't believe how dilated her eyes were, how her nipples strained against her t-shirt. Like a smoke bomb of lust and sex had been ignited, blending together fighting and fucking.

He took her by surprise, lips crashing as he kissed her fervently. His hands coursed down the sides of her body, cupping her ass to give him the leverage to press himself into her. He swallowed her moans as he squeezed. He palmed the back of her thigh, lifting one leg to wrap around him. In one swift motion, he hoisted her, forcing her back to arch against the wall. He practically humped her, thrusting against the tough fabric of her jeans.

She tore away from his lips to plant searing kisses up his jaw. His earlobe was sucked between her teeth. "Is this what you want, Nick?" she buzzed in his ear, "to fuck me until you forget that you hate me?"

He lifted her higher, his erection digging right at her sex. "You won't be able to stand when I'm through with you."

Fumbling with her clothes, he pulled her t-shirt over her head. She reached behind her to get rid of her bra, but he was too impatient. He pulled a cup down, lowering his head to take a nipple in his mouth. His tongue laved on the hardened peak, sucking it firmly before releasing it with a warm breath. She trembled.

With her head tilted back, she parted her lips and released a delicious moan.

Nick pulled his torso back so she could unsnap her bra. He pressed into her, luxuriating in the feel of her soft breasts pressed between their bodies. Her hands were on his shoulders as he lowered his head, his lips devouring the newly exposed skin.

Running her fingers through his hair, she whimpered as he kissed and sucked, having a sudden urge to mark her with hickeys all over her body. He released her, setting her back down on her shaky legs. She whined as she reached for him. But he had other ideas; getting down on his knees to kiss down her stomach, unbuttoning and unzipping her tight jeans. He couldn't wait to peel them off, pressing his mouth to the band of her lace-trimmed panties.

Her fingers weaved through his hair, pushing into his scalp to coax more of this frantic foreplay.

"You're going to miss this when it's all over," he said, eyes flitting up to meet hers. "Every night without me beside you, you're going to touch yourself here." He pulled the skimpy garment down her hips, following the trail with his lips. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his head spin.

"And here." He kissed her on her mound, and she gasped.

His lips wrapped around her clit, sucking harshly before a quick release. "And here."

Amanda yelped, her body lurching forward.

Nick smirked, rising from his knees to stand tall in front of her. He cupped her chin, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "You're going to pray for someone to fuck you the way I do."

Her stare hardened and her steadying grip on his shoulder dug into his muscles. "You're out of your fucking mind."

Laughing maliciously, he scooped her up effortlessly and turned around. She kissed him hard, panting when he lowered her down on the living room carpet. Six feet of him loomed over her, standing dangerously at her feet. He peeled off his swimming trunks, that had clung tightly to his erection. He groaned in relief as he sprung free.

Amanda licked her lips, her back extending as he lowered himself over her. He seized her knees, pushing them apart until she was wide open for him. She winced as she felt the pull in her groin, tightening her muscles.

Nick's hands positioned on either side of her head, forcing her to look at him. Eyes locked on each other, he impaled himself on her, more cruel than their usual limits. She was already wet for him, so he slid in without much resistance; but she was still a tight fit. Her mouth turned into a perfect 'O', her lips begging to be kissed. But he resisted, revelling in the image of his lover losing control to the carnal pleasure.

She bucked into him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Her response animated his competitive side and he dug deeper to drive harder. "Fuck you, Amanda."

"Yes! Mmmm… Don't stop!" She cried out, her hands moving from his shoulder blades to position over his hands. Their fingers intertwined, restraining each other against the rug "Fuck…"

He grunted as he sank down to the hilt, grinding himself into her until he felt her tiny spasms. The wet heat that encased his length slowly rippled, and he could sense that she was close. She lifted her head, finding his mouth to kiss him with unbridled passion. He got so lost in the kiss that he had forgotten to move, simply loving the feel of being buried inside her.

She bucked, her hold on him desperate as she mewled into the kiss. "Don't stop. Don't — God. Oh, god. OhGodOhGod!"

Energized by her words, Nick pulled himself back until she only had him by the head of his cock. He rammed into her, down to the root, picking up the momentum with every moan she uttered for him. And only him.

There was a knock on the door. They didn't answer.

"Come, baby." She increased the pressure in their interlocked hands. "I want you to — OhGod."

Driving into her sex in long, deep strokes, he lost himself bit by bit with the pressure building between his legs. Amanda rose her hips one last time, pushing hard against him before crashing down into a quivering heap. She cried out his name, drawing it out until it was caught in her throat. A strangled scream of his name permeating through the sound of slapping flesh.

The knocks pounded incessantly.

His thrusts outdid the beats on the door. The backs of his forearms burned from being pressed so hard on the Persian rug. His hands locked with hers. He stared deeply into her eyes, his mouth parting as he felt his own orgasm mount as she gripped him tightly in her hot, pulsing walls. Her blue eyes were a tight ring around pitch black pupils; her face flushing crimson. "I… I'm" his breath stopped short of his throat as he felt his body surrender, his hot cum surging inside her.

His heart pounded relentlessly as he fell on top of her, breathing heavy into her neck. She turned her head to face him and her mouth curled into a sly smile.

Kissing her lazily, they ignored the knocks that hadn't stopped.

"We should probably get that," Amanda whispered into the kiss. "They know we're here."

"We're busy."

She laughed breathily, pushing him on his chest. "Go."

"Fine." He huffed, getting up reluctantly before slipping on his shorts. Amanda reached for her t-shirt, pulling it over her head. It was long enough to cover her ass, and Nick was grateful that she chose to forego her jeans. He wasn't done with her. She quirked her brow playfully, settling on the couch and crossing her legs.

Nick's head was still spinning, his balance off-kilter as he opened the door to see Paula standing on the other side.

The ex-model looked annoyed before she eyed Nick's mussed up hair, looked past him and saw Amanda half-naked on the couch. She gave a small wave and Paula covered her face. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have — God, I'm so embarrassed."

"Can I help you with anything?" Nick hoped she would say no, and that she would go away.

Paula pressed her lips together in a tight line. "I have a flat. There's a spare tire in the back. I wouldn't be asking, but I called the local mechanic and they said they won't be here for another two hours. I thought I'd try you in case you knew how to change it."

"Uh… sure…" He thought it was odd. Glancing over at Amanda, she gave him an equally confused look. "Uh, yeah. Give me a minute," he told Paula. "Let me change and I'll meet you out on the driveway."

She nodded and smiled broadly. "Thank you! You are a lifesaver!"

Nick closed the door as soon as Paula scurried away. He had a bad feeling rising in his gut, and he knew he wasn't alone when Amanda got up to peer through the curtains. "What was that about?"

"Paula wanted me to change her tire."

"Yeah, I know that," she said, pulling back from the window. She shook her head. "This might sound crazy, but you ever get a bad vibe from those women?"

"Since the day we met them at the clubhouse," he disclosed, knowing it probably wasn't in his best interest to share his theories when she wasn't as forthcoming. Maybe it was because he was vulnerable around her. Maybe it was the sex. Maybe it was because he loved her more than he was willingly ready to admit. He sighed. "You don't think one of them could be —"

"—The Madame?" She finished his thought. "Absolutely."