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I nod my reluctant agreement and step forward toward Harlow, but he speaks again, stopping me in my tracks.
“And, Nico? No tricks or plans. We are not equal here. You work for me, and you have more than yourself to worry about. Having someone you’d do anything for is a weakness. Remember that.”
Yeah, that I do have, and it’s a weakness he has absolutely no issue exploiting. I nod again, my jaw tight as I bend to pick myweaknessup from the floor.
“How long has she been out? Does she know she’s here?” When is she going to wake up, and what will she know when she does?
“She was picked up from the club just over an hour ago. She’s been out since.”
“How much did you give her?”
He rolls his eyes as if I’m overreacting to the fact he’s drugged and kidnapped her, although I’m sickeningly relieved that’s all that has happened to her in this place. I’ve no doubt he would’ve gleefully recounted anything else they’d done to her towarnme.
“She’ll come around soon.”
That’s all the reassurance I need to get her out of here. You can never know for sure how each person will react to chloroform, but the last place I want her to wake up is here. I turn with her tucked into my chest and march out, my uncle holding the doors open for us to get through. He doesn’t speak until I’m awkwardly strapping Harlow into the back seats that I’ve laid her out on.
“Nico.”
I don’t answer, taking my time to make sure she’s secure, but when I close the door and go to open mine, he puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Nico,” he says again, and I finally turn to look at him.
I know he can tell the hate, disgust, and frustration I have for this place and organization, as he looks back at me with sympathy. Even if he’s the only one who keeps some modicum of humanity in my father, he’s still the best of an awful bunch. He still sat back while my father drugged and kidnapped an innocent young woman.
“Stay calm and rational, okay? She was going in either way. At least you’ll be on her side to protect her now.” I nod tightly because he’s right, although fuck knows how they know so much about her. Either way, it’s the tiniest silver lining to this shitty black cloud of a situation, although it means little to me now. He lets me go. I slide into the driver’s seat and head toward Harlow’s apartment, praying she doesn’t wake up before I’ve thought of an explanation for why she’s here with me.
CHAPTER THREE
Ezra
I’m not sure how long we stand there staring at the photo. Neither of us say a word, and I’m not sure if Sawyer is freaking out or if his brain has blanked completely, like mine has. I can’t form thoughts or words or a reaction. I’ve malfunctioned.
All I can do is picture her face. Was she happy when she took this? Surprised? Scared? I hope she was happy. I adore that giant smile more than anything, and I just want to see it again. Like... right now. I knew Harlow was different, felt it in my bones when I met her, and I want her here with me so I can show her that until she believes every word.
“What the fuck do we do now?” I ask eventually, and Sawyer starts as if he’s been in a trance.
“We need to find her.” We do, desperately, but state the fucking obvious, dude.
“You think this is why she’s gone?”
“I dunno, man.” He runs his hand through his hair, gripping the ends in frustration.
I don’t know either, don’t know what she’ll be thinking, but she can think it here, with us. She knew about this before she disappeared—the time stamp on the photo shows it was before we left for the club. She took the test without us while we were in the next apartment waiting for her to get ready. What happened between then and now? She saw Sawyer, but she wouldn’t have run from us both for that, would she? I thought we’d overcome that? Or we were working on it, at least.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” I wonder aloud. Why was she taking the test anyway? It’s not something I’m sure any of us has even thought about, let alone hoped for, but fuck, I wanna be with her every step of the way. I want her to know she can come to me with anything.
“Well, she probably didn’t tellme’cause she thinks I’m still fucking around,” he grumbles. He looks pissed. No doubt he’s beating himself up way more than anyone else could.
“All you can do is make sure she knows the truth when she gets back.”
“Which is when?” he asks.
I don’t bother answering the rhetorical question, because I have just as little of an idea as he does, but a knock has us both whipping our heads toward the door before we rush to it and yank it wide open. Nico stands there, filling the doorway with a bundle of blond hair and pink in his arms.
“Harlow?! Fuck, what’s wrong?”
“She’s unconscious,” Nico tells Sawyer in lieu of a reply from her.
