Page 38 of Antichrist

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I spin around so fast the ends of my ponytail slap me across my cheek. “Cece, we were friends! That’s it!”

“Really?” Cece asks, her brows raised. “Friends fuck each other like you both did?”

My eyes widen as I frantically look around the room for Luca, as if he can hear every conversation. “Cece!”

“What?” she snaps, her eyes narrowing. “You know it’s true, Meraki! Stop kidding yourself. Whatever you and Niko do, you’ll always end up together. The worst part is, I always knew, even when we were young. I just”—she holds my stare—“I knew I couldn’t compete with what you both had, so I just enjoyed the ride while I had him. I was essentially your seat warmer…”

“Cece…”

We’ve never really spoken about this before. I never felt like I was cheating on my best friend by fucking Niko because I had him first. I was unreasonable like that. Cece always played with other people too, including Jer, who is now a big hotshot CEO of a major trading company on Wall Street. Last I checked, he hadn’t spoken with Niko either. I wonder if he knows he’s back in Halsin.

Cece lifts one brow.

I roll my eyes again, leaning against the window. “It doesn’t matter. He has someone, I have Luca. We’re not even in the same conversation.”

My phone starts blaring in the kitchen, and I silently thank the gods for the distraction. Cece is a rabid dog when it comes to Niko and me. She always has been.

I swipe my phone unlocked without looking, bringing it to my ear. “Hello.”

“I’m outside. We need to talk.”

My heart rate picks up, and my skin thrums with adrenaline.

“No, we don’t. Why?”

“Meraki.” His voice is strained, and it hits the deep parts inside of me that died when he left.

“Cece is here.” I release the counter when I realize I’m squeezing it hard enough for the veins to pop in my arm.

“Fuck Cece. I ain’t leaving until you come down, and if you don’t, I’m coming up, and when I get there, I won’t be fucking gentle with dragging your ass down.”

I pause, chewing on my bottom lip. I pick up the diamond necklace around my neck. “Fine. But I can’t be lo—”

He hangs up on me. I flip off my phone and try to think of a way to distract Cece. I don’t want to tell her that Niko is downstairs and wants to talk because rabid dogs are starving and Cece would absolutely feast on that information for days.

I do the one thing I know will definitely distract her for long enough. “There’s a bottle of 42 in the cupboard. I just have to—”

She’s already moving to the kitchen, barging past me on her little Don Julio adventure.

“You greedy bitch! You were trying to hold out on me!” Cece is up on her tippy-toes, reaching for the brown bottle. “You go and come right back, because you and I? We’re going to fuck this bottle.”

I reach for my keys and make my way to the door after slipping on a pair of sneakers. I’m aware that I’m wearing white cotton, tight biker shorts and an oversized hoodie, but it’s winter and I don’t really care what I look like when Luca isn’t home.

I hear the growling idle of his bike before I’ve hit the front door to my apartment complex. My walking slows before I reach for the door handle, and I close my eyes to take a deep breath. Why are you doing this? Niko is my friend. He was my best friend at one point, and I need to have this—whatever—conversation with him now to get it over with.

My hand pauses on the handle, and just as I’m about to retreat back to my room to call him to say I feel sick, the loud revving of his motor shakes the walls of the building.

Asshole.

His impatience hasn’t changed.

As soon as I’ve hit the cold chill of outside, he glares at me.

“Get on.”

“No,” I say, stepping backward. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Meraki?” He cocks his head to stare at me sideways. “Get on my fucking bike.”

“Why? I thought you said that you wanted to talk, so talk.”

He kicks up the stand of his bike and pushes the helmet into my chest. “Not here. Take the fucking helmet. I’ll drop you back in one piece.” His glacial eyes frost me to my toes before slowly traveling back up my body, exposing every inch on their way back. “Or try.”

Ignoring the way his words dance their way over my flesh, I pull my hair out of its pony, slide the helmet on, twist the strap through the buckle, and clip it in.

He doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he turns back to face the road, revving his engine.

“Don’t even start, Nik.”

“Didn’t say shit. You still remember how to ride a bike?” he asks smugly and I swing my leg over the seat while keeping my eyes on his.


Tags: Amo Jones Dark