by C. Luca
Why is he leaving me hanging?
Had I assessed the situation entirely wrong?
The ride to the station near the apartment seems to take far longer than normal. Once my stop arrives, I follow a few other people down to the street level and begin my two-block walk.
This part of my way home always has me feeling apprehensive, because I’m worried Jonah or someone else in Nikolai’s employment might try to grab me. It wouldn’t be wise, but I can’t eliminate the possibility. That would be foolish.
So, I remain on my guard, and when I cross in front of the alley, I keep my right hand inside my purse. The charged stun gun gives me a sense of comfort.
Thankfully, nothing out of the ordinary happens.
Once I’m inside the apartment building and enter the elevator, I withdraw my phone from my purse and look for new text messages. There are none.
My lips flatten as my eyebrows converge.
I know Nikolai was watching me tonight, because if it were my imagination, I’d be envisioning him everywhere I go.
What is he up to?
He’s not supposed to be this unpredictable, but I should have known.
A minute later, I’m entering the apartment and relocking the door. The place is dark, warning me that Ava’s already in bed. As I slide off my shoes and walk to the kitchen, turning on the overhead light, guilt rises within me.
Working two jobs hasn’t left much time for me to spend with Ava. I’d noted just how disappointed she was this morning, so I really need to make more of an effort to be there for her. She grew up in Seattle, so Chicago is very new to her, and I know she’s feeling a bit lost and lonely.
I’m the only one she knows, and it’s important that I show her she’s not alone, and that I’m here for her. I need to keep Nikolai from being my entire focus and put Ava first.
Knowing Ava loves pancakes, I pull out the box of mix that she’d bought the other day.
I set it in the center of the counter.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll be up and out of the apartment before she even opens her eyes, so I’ll make it a point to have pancakes keeping warm in the oven for her.
It doesn’t make up for my not being here as much as I would like to, but it at least lets her know that I’m thinking of her.
SEVEN
Blakely
Another few days have gone by without any contact from Nikolai.
My doubts about him are starting to intensify, and I can feel a sense of panic beginning to take form. If Nikolai wanted to revisit our conversations or had truly felt a connection with me, he would have reached out by now.
During my shift at the club, I find myself distracted and less flirty than usual. With a polite smile, I hand a guy his drink and turn to the next patron. My distraction certainly isn’t helping with my tips, but I can’t shut off all the doubts churning inside my head.
Had I made a tremendous mistake by coming back?
If Nikolai feels nothing for me, he’s not going to care about my death. What if he’s planning a way to get rid of me once and for all without bringing any suspicion his way?
I’ve been putting off mentioning my concerns to Ava, because I’d been hoping I’d know by now whether I should be fearing for my life and fleeing the city. The last thing I want to do is panic Ava after she left her old life behind to begin a new one away from Rob.
Shit.
I don’t know what to do.
I honestly thought Nikolai would have revealed his intentions by now, and as the days go by, I find myself beginning to feel foolish. I’d left safety for the unknown, and that might turn out to be the worst decision I could have made.
Once my shift is over, and I’ve helped with the cleanup, I change out of my uniform in the employee restroom and slip on a tee, jeans, canvas sneakers, and my winter coat.
After digging out a knit hat from the pocket, I pull it on over my hair, sling my bag over my shoulder, and make my way back into the club and towards the entrance that also serves as the exit.
As I step out onto the sidewalk, the bitter cold hits me in the face, and I shiver as I bury my bare hands inside my coat pockets. I’d forgotten my mittens earlier on my way out of the apartment.
I dodge a couple smoking on the sidewalk as they wait for either a cab or a friend to pick them up. There are always people lingering outside the club after hours. Either they’re not ready for the night to end and figuring out where to continue the fun, or they’re waiting for rides.
A shiver from the cold treks down my spine, and I duck my head and quicken my pace as I head for the ‘L’ station. It’s just a short walk, and before I know it, I’m on the ‘L’ train and seated in the back. I rub together my numb fingers, trying to warm them as more passengers enter the car, looking for seats.
Someone claims the seat beside mine, and I catch the scent of a very familiar, distinct cologne. My head jerks up, and gray eyes meet mine with cool appraisal.
Holy shit.
Nikolai is sitting beside me.
I’m momentarily overwhelmed by his sudden appearance, and as I gaze at him, I’m distinctly aware of just how much bigger he is compared to me. His jean-clad knee is mere inches from my own, and his broad shoulders hover above mine. He’s wearing the same black, double-breasted overcoat that he'd been wearing the day I’d first approached him, giving him a look of sophistication even though he’s wearing jeans.
I hate to admit it, but Nikolai is an attractive sight that I never tire of looking at.
As much as I’m relieved that perhaps my doubts were just an overreaction, and that he is still interested, I’m also peeved. It’s absurd, but I’m miffed he’d avoided me for so long.
I gaze back at him with flat eyes and wait to see what will happen next.
He slips his hand inside his coat pocket and pulls out a black cell phone. At first, I think he’s going to text me, but then he drops it on top of my large purse where I’d positioned it on my lap. Right at that moment, the train pulls away from the platform, and the motion sends the phone sliding across the smooth fabric of my bag.
I quickly catch the phone before it can fall to the floor. With a frown, I glance at Nikolai to find that he’s pulled out a second phone. His long, elegant fingers are moving across the screen.
The phone in my hand vibrates.
Curious, I swipe the screen and find the text message icon signaling that there’s a message. I open it. What game are you playing?
I look up at Nikolai with confusion. “You think this is a game?”
His attention returns to the phone in his hand as he replies with text messaging.
The phone he’d give me vibrates, and I read what he’d sent. What else would it be?
I stare at his question, not quite sure how to respond. I’m even confused as to why I’m here in Chicago. I’m certainly not going to confess that I’d needed to see him, and that I need to figure out why I can’t get him out of my mind, or that I am trying to figure how being held captive last year had changed me.
He's waiting, so I reluctantly look at him and say, “I don’t know.”
A frown comes over his features as he looks at me questioningly.
“I don’t know why I’m here. I just am,” I say simply.
I hadn’t thought his frown could possibly deepen further, but it does.
“If I were after revenge, it would have happened by now,” I feel the need to point out.
His frown fades slightly, but his expression remains unreadable. He also doesn’t make a move to text further.
An awkwardness comes over me, because I’m not certain if he’s waiting for me to elaborate why I sought him out, or if he’s finished entirely with our conversation.
My stop is coming up soon, so I hold the phone out to him to give it back. He ignored me far too long for me to make this easy for him. If he wants to talk further, he needs to put more effort into the conversation.
He glances at the phone briefly before he begins texting
on his own phone.
I automatically look down at the phone in my hand and swipe the screen just as it vibrates. Keep it. The line is secure.
Ohhh. My heart lifts, but I hide my reaction, and instead, I arch an eyebrow at him. “You mean you want to track my location.”
My comment earns me a look before his fingers move across his phone’s screen.
His reply appears on mine a second later. I won’t respond to any other number but that one. If you can’t handle it, I have no problem taking it back.
I sigh inwardly, knowing this is a great opportunity to keep in touch with Nikolai, but I’m not stupid. He’ll probably track me on the damned thing.
My stop has arrived, and as the ‘L’ comes to a stop and the doors slide open, I rise to my feet. “This is my stop,” I explain to him.
He nods and gracefully rises to his feet as well. Now that I’m exiting the train, he has no reason to remain on it.
I drop the phone he’d given me inside my purse and turn away from him, making my way off the train and across the platform to the stairs.
Much to my surprise, he falls into step beside me as we navigate the stairs to the street level. Nikolai isn’t the type to linger, so I’d naturally assumed our conversation was over.
I pause on the sidewalk and suspiciously look up at him as a small group of people step around us. “You’re not going to try dragging me back to your basement, are you?” My right hand is automatically slipping inside my purse to prepare the stun gun.
He shakes his head.
My eyes narrow.
Right. He’s just going to be a gentleman and walk me to my apartment building? I’m highly doubtful of that.
Nikolai turns exasperated as he pulls out his phone once more and begins to text a message.
I’m already shivering from the cold, but he seems impervious to the bitter chill in the air. Reluctantly, I release the stun gun, and instead, retrieve the phone he’d given me. I pull it out and swipe the screen with trembling fingers so I can read his text. I don’t have to. You seem more than willing to come to me.
I hate that he’s right, and I give him a sour look. “Get over yourself,” I tell him before promptly turning and walking away.
As much as I’d been hoping to see Nikolai again, I’m ready for this conversation to be over. I’m certain he has an employee waiting nearby to whisk him off to his home. He’s too accustomed to his wealth to bother taking the ‘L’ back.
Nikolai falls into step beside me, and my head swivels in his direction as I stare at him. “You’re walking me home?” I ask with a hint of disbelief.
He casually inclines his head.
After everything I’ve been through, I can’t help but continue to be suspicious of him. “Just so you know, I have my stun gun, a knife, and I know self-defense,” I warn as we continue walking.
He actually smirks, as if he’s amused by the precautions I’ve taken to protect myself.
I’m about to say something rather rude when my sneaker slips on a patch of ice I hadn’t noticed on the sidewalk. I pitch forward with a startled squeak.
Nikolai’s arm shoots out, and he hauls me against him to keep me upright. My face momentarily comes into contact with the front of his coat as his cologne infiltrates my senses. I can feel his hand on my arm, just above my elbow, and I quickly take a full step back from him.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, unhappy with how my body had perked up over the brief contact with his.
Nikolai releases my arm, his eyes much more alert than they had been earlier. He gracefully motions with his arm for us to continue walking down the sidewalk.
A heavy silence falls over us as I struggle to gather my composure. We cross the street when the light allows us to do so safely, and then we approach the alley near the apartment building.
Naturally, I slip my hand inside my purse, turning on the stun gun in case Nikolai had been lying and is up to something. I’m certain he’s aware that I’m prepared, but his stride remains casual as we walk, and when we pass by the alley, no one jumps out at me.
I turn off the stun gun and slowly release it as we walk up to the apartment building. When I pull my hand from my purse, I have my keycard.
Nikolai stands there, expression impassive.
Well, this is awkward.
I clear my throat, breaking the silence. “Good night, Nikolai,” I finally say.
He nods his farewell as a dark SUV pulls up to the curb, and he walks towards it.
Now that I’m no longer distracted from the cold, I hurry to the building’s door and swipe my card before going inside. As I walk towards the elevator, a slight smile tilts my lips.
Maybe coming to Chicago was worth it after all.
EIGHT
Nikolai
I climb into the back of the SUV, and a moment later, Ezra is merging with traffic as we leave behind Blakely’s apartment building.
I’ve had Jonah following her on and off since she’d stepped back into my life. While I’d debated how I wanted to deal with her, he’d learned her daily activities and where she works.
It appears that she’s making a life for herself here in Chicago, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. She should be fearing for her life, not working two jobs and flirting at a club.
I run a hand over my face as I sigh inwardly. I’d originally intended to watch her from afar without her ever knowing I was there, but something inside me decided that it would be wise to let her know that I can get to her at any time.
Her lack of fear completely bewilders me.
After everything I’d put her through last year, she shouldn’t be back and wanting…whatever it is that she wants.
Her reappearance is unsettling, and as much as I want to figure out what she’s after, I still don’t want to be giving into her requests and allowing her to think that she’s in control of the situation.
Because she isn’t.
I won’t allow it.
So I’d waited, wanting to draw out the tension.
I’d wanted her to wonder what I was up to and begin looking over her shoulder. Tonight, I’d taken her by surprise on the train, and that’s exactly how I’d wanted to approach her.
Our conversation hadn’t revealed much, which was to be expected due to the short duration of the ride. She clearly doesn’t trust me, and that’s wise of her. I am still undecided over how to handle this new turn of events, but instinct is telling me that she isn’t here to stir up trouble for my business.
So why come back?
I recall the moment she’d slipped on the icy sidewalk and her soft, feminine body had come into contact with mine. The attraction is still very much there. Part of me would like to explore that since I haven’t had much relief this past year, but I’m naturally suspicious of her. She can’t be back because the sex was good between us. It was only once that we’d been together. She’s an attractive woman, she can probably get anyone into her bed, so if she’s here to get back into mine, why?
Unless she’s an adrenaline junkie and the danger of being around me excites her? After all, I could easily extinguish her life if I wanted to, and she knows it.
There are so many reasons she could be back, and because I want to know why she has reappeared, I’d decided to go along with her game or whatever it is she wants to begin.
I’d bought a cell phone for her and made certain it was secure. If she wants further contact with me, she can text me.
Though I can’t guarantee I’ll respond. Doing anything that the fiery woman expects grates on my nerves. I’m not one to be led around on a leash, and she’s going to learn that very, very fast.
NINE
Blakely
Nikolai may have given me a phone to contact him with, but he hasn’t gone out of his way to text me or drop by the club. After two days of nothing, I still haven’t made the first move.
Our relationship—if you can call it that—is so complicated that I’m not sure how to go about doi
ng whatever it is that I’m trying to accomplish.
Am I trying to get to know him?
Date him?
Find closure after the kidnapping and leave it at that?
At least I know he’s not going to try to kidnap me, or he would have by now.
I turn over on the mattress, unable to sleep. It’s my night off, and I’d gone out to dinner with Ava earlier, and then we’d gone to a karaoke bar. Ava was excited to try her hand at singing, but I’d firmly declined the invitation.
Now, it’s after one in the morning, and I can’t sleep because I’m accustomed to my bartending hours. As I stare at the small alarm clock plugged into the outlet in the wall near the mattress, I ponder the second phone resting on the carpet beside my original phone.
For what feels like hours, I stare at the phone Nikolai had given me.
Eventually, I release a sigh of exasperation.
He is a stubborn man.
I reach for the phone and roll onto my back as I press the small button, and then swipe the screen to open it. There’s only one number programmed in the contacts, and I tap on it and text, I still have nightmares. I press send, not sure if he’ll even bother replying.
I’m not even certain why I sent what I had.
Why do I want him to know I still have nightmares? I highly doubt he’ll care. Though it does initiate a conversation about what had happened, so I suppose that’s good. I know I need closure, and the best way to get that is to bring up the kidnapping.
A few minutes go by, and I’m about to set the phone down on the floor next to the mattress when the phone vibrates in my hand. I’m completely taken aback that he’d actually responded.
Is that why you’re texting me instead of sleeping?
I reread his question three times before debating how to respond. I’m thrilled he’d replied with a question, which will keep the conversation going. But I also don’t want to seem too eager. I text, Maybe I half expected you to ignore me, and press send.