Nic is like a black hole, constantly pulling me toward him and tempting me with what’s inside, but if I’m not careful, I’ll get sucked in and never return again. I’m not sure if he realized this, but I’m pretty damn fond of the life I’ve been fortunate enough to build for myself, and this bullshit is really fucking with that. Hell, after all of this is said and done, I’ll be the one needing therapy.
I adjust myself on the stiff bed to a position that makes it easier to run and watch every step he takes. He walks around the small, dusty bunker with the cheap light above his head, slowly rocking back and forth like some kind of horror film.
He starts searching through cupboards and having a good look around, and it dawns on me that he hasn’t been here before. At least, not in the last six and a half years since he’s been locked away. He has no idea what supplies are in here or what he may or may not need to survive. Hell, is there even any food down here, or does he plan on giving away his location every time he calls for pizza?
He’s screwed. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds him, and he goes back to where he belongs. I just have to keep breathing until that happens.
He walks past the shitty bed and opens a door into a narrow bathroom, and to be honest, I’m shocked that this place comes equipped with basic human amenities. I don’t know what I expected; maybe a bucket. I peer around him, trying to search the bathroom from my awkward position on the bed for a window to escape through. I’m not that lucky, though. Nic was probably prepared for this.
Realizing that I’m completely screwed, I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. A small huff comes tearing out of me and my eyes go wide. I hadn’t meant to make a sound. Now all I’ve done is drawn even more attention to myself.
My eyes snap up to Nic as his back stiffens.
Fuck. Not good.
He takes a step out of the small bathroom and turns his ferocious glare on me, his gaze sharp and deadly. “Is there something you need to say?” he demands, not coming any closer, but even having him near the bathroom door is still far too close.
Figuring that I have nothing to lose, I raise my chin and decide that I won’t be going down without a fight. I climb off the bed and stand in the middle of the room, showing him that I’m not scared of his bullshit, despite the fear that’s rapidly pulsing through my veins. “What is this?” I demand, turning up my nose to the shitty little bunker as though I’m too good to be living in filth like this, but truth be told, in my escape from the Wolves, I lived in much worse conditions before I could get back on my feet. “Do you expect me to just sit around your shitty little bunker every day being some deranged housewife? I’m Veronica Fucking Russo. My brother is going to kill you when he finds out what you did.”
Nic scoffs. “Let Christian come,” he booms as though it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “I’ve been meaning to have a little catch up with him.”
My blood runs cold as I take his words for exactly what they are; a threat. “If you even think about hurting my brother, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he says, moving forward like a predator stalking his prey, his eyes taunting and laughing at me. He steps right into me, his tall frame looming over mine, yet somehow I manage to stand my ground. “What could you possibly do to stop me? Run to daddy like you used to in high school? Oh, wait …”
Low fucking blow.
My jaw clenches, and without hesitation, I slam my knee up into his junk. But without even flinching or taking his stormy eyes from mine, his hands connect with my knee just moments before impact. He clutches my knee, his fingers digging into my skin, and making me wobble on one foot. “That’s really how you want to play this?” he questions, leaning into me and somehow keeping me upright with his awkward hold, saving me from falling flat on my ass.
I grab hold of his large, strong shoulder and use it as leverage to yank my knee out of his tight grip. “Look around you, Nic. You’re the one who started this bullshit game. I’m just finishing it.”
He laughs, and the sound not only wraps around me like a warm blanket but pierces right through to my soul. “Baby, you ain’t finishing shit. I say when this is over.”
I scoff, raising a brow at his cocky demeanor. “It’s not a game if only one of us is playing.”