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A brilliant smile stretches over his face, pulling at his dimples and taking me back to the good old days. I haven’t seen that smile in months, and I’m only now just realizing how much I missed it. “Do you honestly think I’ve brought you here to hurt you?”
I raise a brow, pointedly tugging on my bound hands. As the light bulb gently swings, it sends shadows soaring across his face, quickly flickering and drawing attention to the bloodstains on the concrete floor. I try not to think about all the things that have gone down in this exact spot. Slowly, I raise my gaze back to Nic’s. “You’re kidding yourself, right?”
He shrugs his shoulders and walks back into me before pulling out a small pocket knife. The shiny blade glistens in the swinging light, and as he creeps closer, I wonder just how far he’ll go. He leans down over me, placing his hands on either side of the wooden chair, looking right into my eyes. “You’ve been crying,” he tells me, the blade way too close to my skin for liking. Yet for some fucked up reason, I still find myself completely trusting him.
“So what if I have?”
A growl rumbles through the back of his throat, and I can’t help but breathe him in, still wondering if the old Nic still exists in there. “Why?”
I scoff. “Like you care.”
His eyes glisten with a deep, genuine concern that tears at every piece of my soul. “Try me.”
I keep my glare locked on his. “Really?” I say with a laugh, trying to shrug off my emotions, knowing all too well how they keep coming up and betraying me at all the wrong times. “You don’t talk to me for weeks, you show up at my mother’s wedding, and then come storming into my school making demands, and you chose this exact moment to catch up on the ins and outs of my life. Are you crazy?”
“Answer the damn question, Ocean. Why were you crying?”
I roll my eyes. Why am I giving in to what he wants? “If you must know,” I say with a frustrated huff. “Just before your dickhead Widows decided to drag me out of my car, I’d just received the paternity results.”
His brow arches and for just the briefest moment, all signs of intimidation fade away. “And?” he questions, appearing to actually care.
“What do you think?” I snap. “I’m not going to be sitting in my car sobbing like a fucking baby if it was Colton’s.”
Nic lets out a heavy breath and leans even closer, dropping his forehead to mine. “Fuck,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry, O. What are you going to do?”
I pull back, not liking his closeness, not in the way that I used to. “I’m going to get the fuck out of here, that’s what I’m going to do.”
As if remembering where he is, Nic stiffens and pulls back from me. “I’m sorry, baby, but you’re not going anywhere.”
He walks around me again with the knife still in his hands. Nerves begin to flutter through me as I lose sight of him at my back. I feel as he steps into me and presses the very tip of the knife against my shoulder. He slowly trails it down my arms, not pressing hard enough to cut my skin, but just enough that I’m more than aware of what he’s doing.
The knife travels right down to my wrist, and then in one lean slice, my wrists are freed, and I throw myself out of the shitty wooden seat, instantly launching for the door.
I run at full speed, racing for an exit. When he doesn’t come after me, suspicion pulses through me, only I’m not stupid enough to hang around and figure out why. I don’t know where I am, but I’m assuming Kai, Sebastian, or Eli would be close. All I have to do is find someone with a phone and I’ll be alright.
I finally find a door handle, and as I reach for it, a loud BANG startles me just as a perfectly round bullet sails past my face and sinks into the metal door. My eyes go wide as I suck in a breath, coming to an immediate standstill as shock rumbles through me.
I turn, my eyes instantly zoning in on Nic as he stands under the flicking light. I should be trying to get through this stupid door, yet I find myself moving back toward him, not afraid of the gun that’s still pointed my way. “Tell me that you didn’t just shoot at me?” I demand, my strides large as I race back at him. I storm right into him, shoving the gun away and slamming my hands against his chest. “What the fuck, Dominic?”
“I told you,” he says, not looking the least bit sorry, after all, we both know his aim in near perfect. If he wanted to actually hit me, he would have. “You’re not going anywhere.”
