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“You’ve lived in my house the last six weeks, share a bed with me each night, and yet you need me to shoot you up with pain meds to come clean? You’re lucky you’re in no shape for a spanking right now.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Nicky snorts. “Those meds are making you delirious.”
Another yawn, this one deep, threatens to pull me under. “Tell me about it. I dreamed earlier you asked me to move in. How crazy is that?”
Nicky stills for a moment, his body so rigid I almost question if he’s still breathing. But then I feel his fingers caress the skin of my forehead, the gesture catapulting me further into my comatose state.
“Pretty crazy, demon,” he murmurs.
I continue to feel the tender touch of his fingers stroking my face, resigning myself to the conclusion that I’ve most likely succumbed to either dreams or full-blown hallucinations by this point.
“You’re bleeding.” His deep voice hitches with concern. “Daph, the split in your lip busted back open. Let me—” He goes to pull away, but my hold on him tightens.
“Lay back down, Conners.”
“You’ve got blood all over your lips.”
“Don’t care. This is my dream. I call the shots.”
I clutch him tighter, knowing full well I’m probably cuddling my pillow at the moment and not the boy I’ve been in love with my entire life, but I don’t even care. His body relaxes back against mine, and in the moment, it feels real enough for me.
Whatever’s in the IV must be potent as hell, because I swear I feel his arm envelop me, drawing me up into his side at the hollow juncture between his arm and shoulder. I smile, pressing my lips to the warmth of his skin before letting sleep claim me entirely.
“I less than three you,” a deep voice whispers amidst the darkness, the incoherent gibberish only confirming my initial suspicions that none of this exchange has been real.
CHAPTER 24
THEN
NICKY – Age 22
Forty-four pounds.
That’s how much two million dollars weighs in hundred-dollar bills.
Guess I can file that under knowledge I never thought would occupy space in my brain but, alas, here we are.
I’ve been avoiding this meet with the Russians now for months and, unfortunately, if I don’t show my face today, the threat of all the problems that Tommy roped me into when he made deals on my unknowing behalf will be coming to fruition.
He’s a traitorous piece of shit. And yet, still, it all falls back on me.
Because, at the end of the day, I missed the signs.
I didn’t notice the way Tommy would stare at J just a few seconds longer than what would be deemed platonic.
Nor did I grow suspicious when he took a more active interest in the shipping route that would later be intercepted.
It somehow didn’t raise any red flags over his insistence that Bishop was behind the heist, or his irritability when I was hesitant to believe it.
And—the cherry on top—the fact I failed to notice my sister was living an entire secret life with my rival for months.
Tommy’s madness may have invited the snakes to the party, but it was my obsession with a particular redhead that even afforded him the opportunity to unlock the back door, allowing them to slither inside. You can’t oversee the workings of the universe if you’re fixated on the sun—especially when she shines so fucking bright.
Daph consumes me.
She fulfills me.
