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“Did you eat today?”
“No comment.”
“Want to stop for a burger before you rip Ev a new one?”
“Yes please.”
I half listened as Vlado talked to Myron about stopping for food, already excited at the prospect of finally being able to tell my friends the truth, at least a version of the truth.
13
NICK
“Evan?”I poked my head into the kitchen. It was empty. “Ugh.” I stomped across the hall and threw open a random door. Rows of neatly stacked linens stared back at me. “Seriously?” I shut the closet door and glared at it.
Evan’s penthouse was huge and spanned the thirtieth floor of the fanciest building I’d ever been in. It also had security coming out of the wazoo, and the number of armed guards and checkpoints just to get inside one of the elevators was intimidating as fuck.
Vlado had brought me in through the private entrance and elevator in the parking lot. It was guarded by his men and not the building’s security team, which made Vlado less twitchy.
It also opened my eyes to the kind of life Evan lived. I knew he was rich, but I hadn’t fully comprehended that he wasrich, and with that wealth came the kind of attention that required armed guards and living in Fort Knox.
Unfortunately, my new revelations only added to my anger. Evan had made the choice to keep me in the dark about his reality, andthatwas unacceptable.
Whirling away from the closet, I made my way through the living room and toward the other side of the massive space. Vlado had assured me Evan was home.
I wasn’t convinced.
The penthouse was gorgeous with cathedral ceilings, huge, airy rooms, massive floor-to-ceiling windows that showed off the breathtaking view, and cozy yet classy furnishings. Unlike the rental house, this one was lived in. Photos and artwork decorated the walls, and various knickknacks dotted the available surfaces. A threadbare quilt was carefully draped over the huge sectional sofa in the living room, and a stack of books was piled on the coffee table.
“Evan?” I shouted. My voice echoed back at me as it bounced off the gleaming hardwood floors and pristine walls. “Ugh!”
The slap of my shoes on the too-shiny floors was oddly satisfying as I marched toward the only part of the house I hadn’t checked and yanked on the first door.
It didn’t budge.
“Today is not the day,” I grumbled and stomped over to the next door and tugged on the knob. Locked. “You’vegotto be kidding me.”
“Vlado?” I shouted. He hadn’t come inside the apartment with me, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t snuck in while I was busy conducting my search. “If you’re in here, stop hiding and tell me where Evan is or you’re going back on the naughty list.”
No answer.
Still seething, I stalked over to the last door and pulled.
It flew open. Shocked, I overcompensated trying to stop it from slamming into the wall and nearly fell ass over tea kettle when it swung back and hit me square in the hip.
“Son of a biscuit.” I rubbed my hip and peered into the room.
It wasn’t a room, but a creepily dark and tiny hallway. “Evan?”
Silence.
A sliver of light caught my attention at the other end of the short hall.
“Evan?” I pressed my ear to the door in question. A rhythmic thumping sound, almost a hollow slap, filtered through the heavy wood.
I tested the knob. It turned in my hand. Pushing the door open, I peered inside.
“Ev— holy mother of dragons.”
