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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nico
I’m wallowing in pain and self-pity when there’s a knock at the door. It’s unusual for me to have unexpected visitors, and I’m not expecting anyone today. Checking the peephole, I curse under my breath. I should’ve guessed.
I brace myself for her reaction and open the door. Harlow’s smile drops, along with the coffee cup and bag she’s holding, as she takes in my face. Ezra and Sawyer also gape from behind her, and it’s completely silent, except for the quiet sound of coffee trickling down the wall beside my door.
“What the fuck, Nico?!” Harlow finally asks. Ezra bends to stand the cup upright, although it’s futile—the coffee has already made a run for it.
“Hey,” I say lamely. “What are you guys doing here?”
Harlow doesn’t answer, just standing there with her mouth still slightly agape, so Sawyer does instead. “Harlow heard you were sick and wanted to bring you coffee and cake. We didn’t want her to come over here alone.”
“Good fucking job,” Ezra adds. “What happened?”
I shrug, but then wince, and Harlow’s eyes tighten with sadness.
I sigh. “They got me. Was bound to happen at some point. I swear it looks worse than it is.”
“It looks pretty freaking bad,” Harlow says.
“Well, we can’t all be models, Harlow.” It’s meant to be a joke, but the half-smile pulling on my split lip ruins the mood. “Do you want to come in?”
I step back from the door, and they all come through as I grab a towel from the kitchen to mop the coffee up. Harlow snatches it from me with a glare for even trying, and Ezra helps her clean up the spill as I fall into a chair. Once done, the guys join me on the opposite sofa.
“You’re in so much trouble,” Ezra snickers, and I throw a middle finger up at him. Harlow joins us and hands me the cake bag.
“I think I managed to save this,” she says as she sits back between the guys. “What happened, Nico?” This is the third time someone’s asked me this, but I don’t want to give Harlow all the gory details.
“I stayed for a lecturer’s office hour and got caught up in the fray on my way back home. Left it too late, I guess.”
“You walked?” she asks, exasperated.
“No, of course not—but there’s no parking on the street around here unless you’re collecting or dropping off. I was walking back from my car.”
“But they were only out the other night,” she says.
“They’re getting worse,” Ezra mumbles. They really are. The beatings are getting more frequent, even for them.
“But only here, they never seem to go anywhere else,” she says.
“Except Harlow told me what happened at Chung’s the other night,” Sawyer adds.
“But that was for a reason, they weren’t just there looking for trouble,” I tell them. Harlow frowns, and I realize I let slip information that I’d held back from her.
“Why would they when they can get away with shit here?” Sawyer explains.
“It won’t be long before they spread their wings,” Ezra adds.
“Could they be out tonight?” Harlow asks, and I’m unsure, but I doubt Ezra would’ve let her come if they were.
“No,” he answers confidently. “There’s some big event at their top club tonight, they should all be there.”
“You can’t stay here,” Harlow tells me.
“Of course I can. I live here. I’ll be back to work tomorrow, and it’ll all be back to normal.” I try to make it out as not a big deal, but I don’t think I’m convincing her.
“No way, Nico!”
