“She’s not going anywhere.” I turned, putting me between them and her.
“Vanessa is gone,” David said, stepping into the house. “Someone got to her. Scared her off. She wants no part of this.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I growled back, gesturing to Banks. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“The wedding is off. No deal,” he repeated, and I moved to advance on him, but he opened his jacket, putting his hand on his hips.
It was a causal action, but a gesture with purpose to make sure I saw the gun he had tucked in a holster under his arm. I moved for him.
But Michael shot out his hand, stopping me. “They have guns. We have nothing. Be patient.”
Every fucking muscle tightened, and I balled my fists, squeezing them so hard they hurt.
“Don’t worry.” David smirked. “We won’t force her to go if she wants to stay.”
I turned, meeting her eyes, and when she faltered, I knew what her decision was. My blood boiled.
Fuck you.
Maybe she was actually choosing them or maybe she thought she could keep Damon away from us if she left, but I was done trying to be the man I thought I should be. The man I was in high school.
No begging. If she liked men who took, I could take.
She walked pas
t me, and I turned, watching her leave with them.
She spun around, walking backwards as she spoke to me with tears in her eyes.
“It was all so easy,” she said quietly. “All you had to do was ask my name.”
I faltered. What was she talking about? I knew her name.
They left, and the four of us stared after the black SUV as it sped out of the driveway.
The smoke from the fire had drifted up into the hills, and I could smell the burning wood and tar from the roof. There would be more fires, and this was just the start. Devil’s Night didn’t even start until midnight.
I turned to Rika, seeing her eyes dry but red. “Now do you see?” I told her. She had to stop expecting better of him. That was our place. Our business. My livelihood.
“So, Devil’s Night is coming no matter what we do,” Will chimed in.
I nodded. “And we have one piece of leverage,” I said, turning to Michael. “Do we want to use it?”
But strangely, he smiled. “Actually,” he said. “You have another card to play.”
I do?
He leaned in, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her name…is Nikova,” he told me. “Think real hard. It will come to you.”
Nik.
I thought maybe Nikki? Maybe Nicole?
Nope.
Nikova.
The female variant of Nikov. As in Gabriel Torrance, born Gabriel Nikov, whose family adopted the more “American” surname of Torrance for their business dealings when they immigrated.