I switch the call to speakerphone and settle deeper into the mattress. The only place Malachi could secure for Nico and me was a one-bedroom apartment. I’m pretty sure it belongs to one of their employees, but I don’t particularly care at the moment. Besides, Malachi promised to find something bigger within a few days, but for now, we’re stuck.
“Honestly, me too, Har.”
Nico placed the call to Bethany’s family earlier and they were devastated, to say the least. At one point, I had to take the phone from him because I thought he was gonna break and tell them the truth. I explained to Mr. and Mrs. Sterns that their daughter had been in a car accident and died on impact. The lie made them feel better, even if it did settle in my gut like a lead balloon.
It’s weird seeing someone who is usually the upbeat funny one of the group so down. He’s been like a zombie since we left his house.
“Is there anything I can do?” Harlow asks, pulling my focus back to the conversation.
“I don’t know. Malachi would probably know better than me.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“Don’t start,” I bite out. “I’m too tired for this conversation again.”
“Okay.”
Shocked by her easy acceptance, I snort. “Either Malachi is waving his dick in front of your face and you’re distracted as hell, or I’m going to regret making you wait to say what’s on your mind.”
“Neither, actually,” she says. “I know I’m already on thin ice with you since ordering you to stay with Nico.”
“It’s fine. You already explained yourself.”
She called me while Nico and I strolled through the grocery store randomly tossing junk food into the cart and told me why she made the order.
“Has Malachi figured out our plan yet?” I ask. I was surprised when his reasoning for wanting Nico and me together wasn’t as devious as hers.
“I told him,” Harlow admits. “He bitched for a minute but then I politely reminded him that he should have expected me to have some tricks up my sleeve. He gets it. And he won’t say anything to Nico because he agrees that we’re doing the right thing.”
“I’m just glad you came to the same conclusion about the message on the wall as I did. There’s no way that Nicholi didn’t mean that for both Nico and me. I’m one of the ones who got away,andI was crucial to taking out his family. He’s not going to let that go. And if he’s been watching Nico as long as we think he has, he knows how Nico feels about me.”
“Right. So it stands to reason that he’s more likely to make a move when he can get you both together.”
“Exactly. The whole thing with Bethany was child’s play for Nicholi. Nico and I are his targets.”
“Hey, Mal just walked in so I’m gonna go,” Harlow says quickly. “Stay safe.”
“Night bitch.”
Harlow’s laughing is cut off when I disconnect the call. Staring at the ceiling, I debate whether or not to go check on Nico, and concern wins out over self-preservation. I wasn’t lying when I told Harlow I was worried about him. He’s off, and Nico is never off. I don’t like it.
I glance down at the see-through tank and panties I’m wearing and shrug. He was sleeping when I left him in the living room, and he probably still is. No need to get completely dressed.
Nico is sprawled out, one arm flung above his head and one leg hanging over the edge of the couch. His jeans are in a heap on the floor, along with the Henley he was wearing, and his gun and holster rest on the top of the pile. Satisfied that he’s okay, I turn to go back to the bedroom, but a deep moan halts me in my tracks.
“I… no… can’t… please.”
I move closer to the couch to listen to Nico’s ramblings, and several more bricks fall away when I see the pain etched in the lines of his face. His head moves back and forth on the cushion and his entire body jerks every few seconds. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what his nightmare is about.
“Nico,” I say softly as I crouch next to the couch. I know getting this close probably isn’t smart, but I can’t help myself. I shake his arm gently. “C’mon, Nico, wake up.”
It takes a few more minutes, but Nico comes awake swinging. I dodge out of his way, falling back onto the carpet.
“Whoa, it’s just me,” I say. Nico stares at me, but his eyes are glazed and unfocused. “Nico, it’s me. It’s Peppermint.” Still, recognition doesn’t come. “Cuore mio,” I whisper.
His eyes clear. “Peppermint?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yeah.”