I look down at the mixing bowl with the pancake batter. “What about your breakfast?” I question, glancing back up at him.
“I’ll survive, Jade. Just go, I’ll be here waiting when you get back.”
A smile tears across my face and I press up onto my tippy-toes, crushing my lips against his. “I’ll be back for dinner,” I tell him before taking off like a bat out of hell and rushing toward the garage, not giving a damn about the fact that I haven’t showered, haven’t brushed my teeth, and haven’t gotten a fresh pair of panties after Colton ripped them off me. All that matters is mending the divide between me and my Widows and this time, I won’t be returning until things are right.Chapter 10The Audi drives like a dream as I speed down the road, pushing it to its absolute limits in my need to get back home to Breakers Flats.
I get to see my boys.
I really shouldn’t be so excited about that. I should be a ball of nerves. I should be carefully picking out the words that I’ll say, and I should be reminding myself of the reason I ran in the first place. They’re not good guys, they’re gangsters, murderers … liars. But above all, they’re my family. Always have been, always will be.
I love them without a doubt even when they force me to hate them. Why is it so hard to hate them?
I get to Breakers Flats in record time, somehow managing it without being pulled over. I broke far too many traffic laws to get away with. Maybe luck is on my side today. At least, I hope it is. I couldn’t possibly handle any more bad luck when it comes to my Widows.
I pull into the shitty underground parking of Nic’s apartment complex and instantly notice that his mom’s car is gone. It’s just after nine on a Sunday morning. She would have gone to work and started her shift by now, but I don’t understand why she bothers. With Nic being the big guy in charge, they certainly don’t need the money. Hell, they could afford to move out of this shitty apartment and buy a proper home with a yard, but here they stay.
Nic could probably afford to buy his mom a place of her own but I know that will never happen. He likes her close. Being the leader of the Widows isn’t exactly always sunshine and rainbows. There is a lot of shit that goes along with it too. Shit like having massive targets on the backs of the people you love. Something Nic has always been aware of.
After parking the Audi beside Nic’s rundown piece of shit, I open the door and instantly feel the nerves come over me. These are the nerves that I should have felt the second Colton suggested that I come here.
Nic is a cold-blooded murderer.
I watched the darkness come over him and then I watched as the man that I once loved slit the throats of two men before shooting a third in the back. It wasn’t even done with grace. He taunted them, teased them with the knife, he even broke off the trigger finger of the man who shot and killed his father. I’ve never seen anything like it and I’m damn sure that I never want to see it again.
I don’t know what came over me when I was down in that wine cellar dungeon with Jude. Maybe I was channeling my inner Nic. Something came over me and I lost all control. I gave myself over to the darkness and now I can never go back. I’ll never have that innocence I once had. I’ll forever be the girl who almost killed a man—a very shitty man with no morals, but nonetheless, I almost killed him and that fact will always sit heavily on my heart.
I pump my hands at my side, trying to talk myself into moving one foot in front of the other. It’s not that hard, I just have to keep moving, and eventually, I’ll be standing at his door.
The last time I saw him was the night of the Gatsby party when he crashed and came storming through. He grabbed my arm and tore me down the steps. I was tumbling and falling, even slammed my chest against the hard front steps of the Carrington mansion. It wasn’t exactly Nic’s finest moment, but it wasn’t mine either. I should have known he was going to show up and demand to see me, but pulling me down the stairs … I wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t know if he’d been drinking, or was just emotionally fucked-up, but something wasn’t right. That crazed possessive man wasn’t my Nic. I just hope that what I’m about to walk into isn’t going to leave me with regrets.