I have a life back home, I have a job that I love, and patients who come to me for peace of mind. I can’t just step away from that to play the role of a gangster’s chew toy.
I have to get out of here.
Closing the door as gently as I can, I pull back, not wanting to get caught by the other guys. It’s one thing for Nic to have me hidden away in here, but having those guys find me … nope. Hell to the motherfucking nope. I don’t know them, don’t know if they’re good or bad. I can’t just take Ocean’s word for it. Who knows if these are even the same guys she knows. These could be random dickheads Nic met in prison. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Feeling the helplessness wash over me, I drop to the step, my ass hitting it far too hard, but what does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to live through this. If I try to run, Nic will kill me, and if I hang around, he’ll play with me first and then try to kill me.
They’re not great options.
Fuck it. If I’m going to die anyway, then it’ll be before some dickhead gets the chance to destroy me first.
I fly up off the concrete step and start searching through the bunker. Nic had found a gun earlier as easily as opening a cupboard and reaching in. Surely there must be more than just one hiding out in here.
I start with the little kitchen, yanking open the drawers and madly searching each of them. I find a small knife but it won’t help me. Using a knife means I have to get close to him, and I can’t risk that. He’ll overpower me within seconds. I could always throw it at him but knowing Nic, he’ll just shrug off a stab wound like he was swatting a fly. I shove it in the back pocket of my jeans anyway. I’m sure I’ll need it at some point.
The kitchen comes up empty, and I hurry over to the dresser in the adjoining bedroom. Desperately searching through the drawers, I toss piles of clothes to the floor, leaving every one of them open as I go. But when I pull out the top drawer, the whole dresser becomes unbalanced and crashes to the concrete floor.
FUCK!
My eyes go wide, and I become frantic, searching for something to protect myself.
Without a doubt, they heard me, and they're coming to check what the fuck is going on in here.
As if on cue, I hear the boys rushing toward the bunker, their feet slamming against the concrete and echoing throughout the warehouse. I rush to the door and slide the lock into place, knowing damn well that it’s not going to stop them, but it will at least give me a few seconds.
The door violently rattles as I rush around the bunker, still pulling open drawers and cupboards. Just as I yank the couch away from the wall, I find a gun taped to the back, and the door flies open with an inhuman force.
The four Widows storm the bunker, and I dive for the gun, desperately reaching. My fingers curl around the cool metal, but I can't get a good grip before Nic hauls me up and slams me roughly against the wall.
“I thought we’d already learned this lesson,” he growls, his voice deep and menacing as he reaches around me, curling his hand around my ass and yanking the knife out of my back pocket.
“Fuck you,” I snap, fighting against his hold.
“Yo,” one of the guys says, cautiously walking toward us while glancing back at his friends. “What the fuck is going on here? Who is this? We never discussed hostages.”
Nic glares back at his friend. “Get the fuck out of here. This is between me and her. It has nothing to do with you guys or the Widows. It’s personal.”
The Widows glance between one another, and it’s clear that whatever the fuck is going on here wasn’t part of anyone’s plans. But they’re not about to do anything about it, either. The taller guy steps forward, his eyes on me. “Is that Veronica Russo?”
Nic turns on his friends, keeping me hidden behind his large frame. “I said get the fuck out of here.”
He shakes his head while the other two retreat, clearly not liking this turn of events. “Ocean’s going to fucking kill you, man,” the guy says, making me wonder if this is Kairo, the one not afraid to stand up against Nic. “You know they’re friends.”
“What O doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Nic says, his voice filled with regret, knowing his friend is right. I’ve heard all about Nic’s relationship with Ocean, and at first, it made me jealous as all hell, but I quickly saw how wrong and toxic it was. What they had wasn’t love; it was comfort. But what we had back in high school … shit. That was the fucking world.